Epilogue

EPILOGUE

P hoebe’s cry of distress sent Harrison to his feet as he waited in the hallway outside her bedroom. She had been in there for nearly an hour with only a maid running back and forth to bring hot water and warm towels, and no one had given him an update in at least twenty minutes. It was utterly nerve racking to be forced to wait through such a huge life moment while his wife undoubtedly needed him on the other side of the door.

When the door did open, his housekeeper, Mrs. Beatley, peaked her head out, her normally perfect coiffeur in disarray and a pink flush to her cheeks.

“Well?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing yet, my lord. She’s in a lot of misery which makes sense given how small she is. She’s screaming with each pain as if it’s tearing her insides.”

Harrison groaned. “What can I do to help?”

Mrs. Beatley gave him a sad smile. “There’s nothing to do, my lord. We just have to allow nature to take its course with these things, I’m afraid. Perhaps you should go to the library and get yourself a drink? It might be a while.”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No, I’ll wait here.”

“Mrs. Beatley,” Phoebe cried out and the housekeeper pulled her head back inside the room and slammed the door shut.

The anguish in Phoebe’s voice was terrifying, and he wished he could be there beside her as she navigated this new point in their lives, but she had expressly told him he would only get in the way. She had been adamant that his worrying would cause her more distress than it would help and had summarily banned him from the room when the time came. She was right, of course. He hated seeing those he cared for in any amount of pain, so perhaps his hallway banishment was necessary.

The door opened once more and Mrs. Beatley stuck her head out. “We have one!” she said, before closing the door behind her.

Surely, given how tiny she was, there could not be any more than that?

But to his utter astonishment, the screaming began once again and sweat broke out on his brow. What on earth was he to do with more than one? Understandably this was the way these things went, but for some unknown reason he had only imagined one inside that tiny belly. There was hardly room for anyone else.

“Two,” Mrs. Beatley shouted through the bedroom door.

“Dear god,” Harrison said, sliding to the floor. Two? That meant double of everything. That meant two terrors running around the home, breaking things and ruining furniture. He would have to increase the staff’s salary tenfold just to ensure they stayed on.

“Three!”

“Fuck,” Harrison said, pushing up off the floor. Perhaps he would get that drink.

In the library, Harrison poured two fingers of scotch before taking a well-paced stroll around the room. A basket sat by one of the armchairs, filled with strings and little woolen mice toys. A deck of cards sat on the low table, awaiting their nightly game, although he had a sneaking suspicion that tonight’s game would be postponed. With all the bustle going on inside the home it only made sense that silly things such as card games would fall to the wayside. No, there were more pressing matters.

Three new little urchins who would need to be looked after with care and comfort, taught what it was to be raised in the Everly home. Obviously, their mother would help with feeding them and keeping them clean, but it was anyone’s guess how long that would last.

“Harrison?” Phoebe said from the door.

Harrison looked up. His beautiful wife stood before him with cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and the most beautiful smile on her face.

“Would you like to meet them?” she asked.

Harrison smiled, setting the glass down on the table before taking his wife’s hand and following her upstairs. Inside their bedroom, tucked into a corner by the fireplace sat a deep wicker basket covered with a fluffy blanket and some towels. Small cries sounded from the basket and Harrison hurried over, kneeling down to peek inside.

Mildred lay on her side, three small kittens nuzzled against her stomach eating hungrily while she groomed them. It was unfathomable to think that they had all come from such a small cat, but here they were, of varying sizes and colors. Poor Mildred looked tired, her eyes soft, and she nuzzled her head into his hand as he scratched her cheek. “What a brave girl you are,” he said.

“She was phenomenal,” Phoebe said beside him. “I think I was more worried than she was.”

“Was your mother a nuisance?” Harrison asked the cat.

Phoebe laughed. “You would have been worse.”

Nodding, Harrison sat on the floor, crossing his legs before him as he looked at the newest additions to his family. “I hope she knows that we’re never letting her outside the house again,” he said, looking at each kitten to see if they looked anything like their sire. “I don’t plan on letting a single tom near her ever again.”

Phoebe sat down next to him and took his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. “She’s going to have a tantrum for a month.”

“I don’t care. Nobody takes advantage of my little girl.”

“You’re still certain you don’t want children?” she asked.

Harrison kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. “Still certain. You don’t want them, it’s your body and I support whatever you want to do. This is my family. This is all I want.”

Phoebe smiled before reaching forward and itching Mildred on the white tuft on her head. “I love you, Harrison.”

Harrison looked down at his wife, the soft smile on her lips as she watched Mildred with her kittens making his heart skip. He was not perfect, nor would he ever be, but here, in this moment, life was perfect. Phoebe by his side, a new collection of kittens to worry over.

Perfect.

“I love you, Phoebe.”