Extended Epilogue

Three Years Later…

“How can a tiny child be so quick on his feet!” Lionel asked, as he ran past Amelia, who had just emerged from the library after hearing the ruckus.

She burst out laughing, glancing up the hallway to find the culprit. Daniel skidded to a halt on the parquet floor, ducking behind a side-table to hide from his father. The little boy’s delighted laughter echoed into the hall, reminding Amelia of a story that Caroline once told about Lionel as a boy—how he was never very good at hide and seek, always giving himself away with his giggles.

“He is so fast, Amelia!” Lionel called back over his shoulder, coming to a stop. “I do not suppose you have seen him, have you? Goodness, where can our darling boy be? He was just here! I think he must be so fast that he has become invisible.”

Amelia leaned against the doorjamb of the library door, watching the scene with her heart so full of joy, smiling so wide that her cheeks ached.

Daniel peeked out from behind the side-table, grinning the kind of grin that only a happy child could conjure. He looked so like his father, though his raven black hair was wild and unkempt—there had evidently been something of a battle with the comb that morning, as there was most mornings.

“Oh well,” Lionel said with a dramatic sigh, “I shall just have to eat all of Mrs. Bishop’s strawberry tarts myself. It is a great burden, but I shall have to manage it.”

The little boy burst out of his hiding place. “Papa, no! I want tarts!” He smacked his forehead in the most adorable fashion, apparently remembering his manners. “Please. Tarts, please.”

“A-ha! There you are!” Lionel ran toward Daniel and scooped the boy, throwing him up into the air and catching him with ease.

Nevertheless, Amelia’s heart lurched as it always did when her beloved husband did such things. Daniel adored it, of course—the more exciting, the better.

Daniel screeched with delight. “Again, Papa! Again!”

“Again? Well, if you insist.” Lionel threw him up again, the boy’s eyes fixed on his father with a smile so wide it made Amelia want to cry tears of joy.

For an instant, Daniel soared, then came safely back down into his father’s capable hands. From there, Lionel set the little boy onto his shoulders and turned around.

“What do you say, dearest?” Lionel asked, smiling at Amelia. “Shall we be terrible rogues and have strawberry tarts for breakfast?”

Amelia laughed. “I suppose we must. But, you have to promise that you will let me run a comb through your hair, Daniel. It looks as if you have a bird’s nest upon your head, and I should hate for the sparrows to think that you are their new home.”

“Your Mama is quite right,” Lionel agreed. “If you do not comb your hair, sweet boy, then I shall have to take my scissors to it and cut it as short as mine.”

Daniel eyed his father’s dark hair, pinching little tufts between his perfect, tiny fingers. He ran his fingertips back and forth over the shortest parts at the sides, chuckling to himself.

“Hedgehog, Papa,” the boy said, laughing. “You are hedgehog.”

“And you will be a baby hedgehog if you do not brush your hair,” Lionel pointed out, peering up at him.

Daniel considered the words and, presumably, the promise of strawberry tarts. “Mama comb my hair. I want tarts. Please.”

“Certainly, my darling.” Amelia smiled and went to join her husband and son, putting her arm around Lionel’s waist as they set off toward the kitchens together. Daniel held onto his father’s ears for additional safety, while Lionel had tight hold of his son’s legs, all three of them linked together, forever entangled.

It was everything Amelia had ever wanted, and never thought possible. And though she did not think of the ‘curse’ very often, having decided the day she discovered the truth of it that Lionel would be an exception, as well as any sons they might have, there was an unexpected beauty to the curse that she had not anticipated.

It made her grateful. It made her wake up each morning, determined to make that day better than the last. It made her love for her husband and her son stronger than anything she had ever thought her heart was capable of feeling. She valued every minute, every second, in a way that she, otherwise, might not have done.

But it took John… Word had arrived about a year ago that Lionel’s uncle had passed, making it to five-and-forty before the curse came for him.

Amelia shook the thought away, reminding herself that it was not the ‘curse’ that came for John. He was perfectly healthy when he died, stolen away by an accident not any sickness. A terrible coincidence. John had still been an exception, and Lionel would be too. As would Daniel. She believed it with every fiber of her being.

“After breakfast, shall we play in the gardens?” Amelia asked, choosing happiness.

Daniel yelped with glee. “Hide and seek!”

“Hide and seek,” Amelia agreed, standing on tiptoe to kiss her husband’s cheek and her son’s hand. “Your papa shall have to wear his spectacles, or he shall never find me.”

Lionel chuckled. “I will always find you, my love.” He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “It is your perfume. It leads me to you every time.”

Amelia blushed furiously, batting him playfully on the arm as they continued on to claim their strawberry tarts.

***

“We shall be late to our own dinner party,” Lionel called out, as he flipped through book that Amelia had been reading: The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling.

“I am almost ready, I promise!” Amelia called back from the adjoining room, which had been designated as her dressing room. “Only Isolde and Edmund are here, and they are being well tended to by Caroline and Rebecca. The others have not even arrived yet—I have plenty of time.”

Lionel smiled. “You do not have plenty of time. We were supposed to be downstairs to welcome everyone half an hour ago!”

He was looking forward to seeing his own friends, for it had been some weeks since he had had the opportunity. Business had taken up the majority of his time, his friends were equally busy, and he was eager to spend an evening thinking about nothing but his wife, good conversation, excellent food, crowing about the wonders of fatherhood and what an exceptional boy Daniel was becoming, and perhaps some dancing if someone could be persuaded to play the pianoforte.

“And my friends are, invariably, late,” Amelia insisted. “It is a habit we all share, which, rather luckily, means that none of us are ever late, for we all arrive at the same time.”

Lionel pretended to click his tongue. “I shall have to go down alone if you are not out here in—”

His words faded as Amelia emerged from the dressing room, so beautiful that she stole the breath from his lungs. She wore a new gown, yet it was somehow familiar—garnet red with gold embellishments, and his mother’s necklace at her throat.

I am the luckiest man in the world…

He rose abruptly from his chair, casting aside the book, but as he walked toward her, eager to embrace her, the Persian rug had other ideas. It had bunched without him realizing and as he took a step forward, his foot caught on the gathered bulge of fabric.

His eyes widened as he felt himself falling forward, his other foot jolting to keep his balance.

Arms out at his sides, no longer plummeting toward the floor, he took a relieved breath and stared at his wife. Amelia’s cheeks reddened, her hand covering her mouth to hide the laugh that pealed from her lips, her eyes shining with mirth.

“My clumsy love,” she said softly, once it was clear that he was all right.

He straightened up, pretending to dust off the front of his waistcoat. “I have said it before, and I shall say it again—I was never like this before you came into my life. Once upon a time, I was known as a sturdy, reliable gentleman who would never dream of tripping over.”

“What have I done to you, hmm?” She chuckled, closing the distance between them.

He slipped his arms around her, holding her close. “You are a constant distraction, my love, and I would not have it any other way.” He smiled. “You look… extraordinary.”

“Do you recognize the colors?”

“How could I forget?” he purred. “I believe the last time you wore a gown like this, I threatened to punch every man at Lockie’s ball.”

She beamed from ear to ear. “I had no idea you could be so jealous, back then.”

“Nor did I.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “If I was not already married to you then, I would have picked you up and carried you straight to the nearest church.”

She grasped his lapels lightly and rose up on tiptoe, pausing a whisper away from his lips. “I love you so very much.”

“I love you far more than you shall ever know,” he replied, the words bringing his lips even closer until, at last, he kissed her.

She melted into him in the way that never failed to make his heart sing, their kiss slow and searing, to the point where he no longer cared how late they were to their own dinner party. He held her tightly, kissing her fiercely, savoring every moment, banking memories to ensure that he would always be the wealthiest man in England—not in terms of money, but in terms of happiness.

“I hate to interrupt,” an amused voice called from the doorway, “but the rest of our guests have arrived, and I fear it would be rude if the two of you decided not to appear.”

Lionel and Amelia pulled apart slightly, both turning to look at Caroline, who gazed at them fondly, her hand to her heart. A woman who had become as much of a mother to Amelia as she had been to Lionel, for so many years. And a woman who was so adored by her great-grandson that Lionel often remarked that she was Daniel’s favorite; the sweet boy always asking to see his ‘Nana’ at every opportunity.

“We are coming,” Lionel said with a smile.

Caroline nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, take a few more minutes. No one will mind.”

With a contented sigh, the older woman disappeared from the doorway, leaving the happy couple to steal one more kiss before they had to head downstairs to greet their friends.

As their lips grazed, both smiling with each tender press of their mouths, Lionel thanked his lucky stars that Amelia had come to his townhouse door, all those years ago.

The End