Epilogue

EPILOGUE

November 1821

L ucius held out the box with a grin. “Another year of beauty gained.”

Christiana took the box and laughed. “Tell me that in twenty years.”

Life had changed so much since last November. Marriage with Lucius had been everything he had promised. Love, family, friends. They had decided to live at Falcon Hall, giving Lucius’s father and his new wife privacy. The Elwoods were frequent dinner companions, and Lord Elwood had recently presented her with venison, courtesy of his last hunt.

Lord Bentson would be their guest for Christmastide again. She was already planning the house party for this year, hoping Lucius’s sister, Annette, and her husband, Lord Weston, would join them.

Christiana untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. “Oh, Lucius, it’s beautiful.” She lifted the crystal dove from its nest of velvet and held it up to the light.

“Just as you are. It’s a symbol of our love and the peace you have brought to my soul by becoming my wife.”

“You have given me the same.” She stretched on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

He shook his head and pulled her close. “That won’t do.” His lips covered hers, not stopping their sweet assault until she was breathless.

“The aviary will be finished next spring. Would you like a pair of doves for it?”

She blinked back tears. Tears of joy for a year of bliss, with more blessings coming in the next year. “My heart is already so full.”

“I’ll stretch it to make room for I have decades more to spoil you, my sweet bird,” he said and kissed her again.

“I have something for you too,” she said.

“It’s not my day,” he objected. “I have my heart’s desire right here.”

“Consider it an early Christmas present. For if I wait, you might guess before that day arrives.” She carefully placed the dove in the curio cabinet, then walked to the big oak desk. Pulling a small velvet bag from the top drawer, she handed it to Lucius.

He gave her an odd look, then opened the bag, and shook out the contents. A delicately carved bird of white ivory lay in his palm. His brows drew together, then his eyes widened. “A stork?”

“A symbol of life,” she said, beaming.

“A baby?” he asked. “We’re having a baby?”

He picked her up and twirled her around and around. Christiana laughed and let her head drop back, enjoying the spinning sensation and the joy radiating off her husband.

The library banged open, a hulking Mr. Jensen darkening the doorway, a scowl on his face. Lucius stopped turning and let Christiana slide to the carpet. “He really needs to get out of that habit,” mumbled Lucius, scowling back at the butler.

“We’re fine, Mr. Jensen.”

“I’m going to be a father,” yelled Lucius, picking Christiana up again and spinning her in the opposite direction. “You shall be an uncle, Jensen.”

The butler stared at them, and slowly, very slowly, a grin stretched across his face. He let out a howl that would frighten a banshee.

Christiana laughed, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. She thought of the little sparrow, so easily lost in a gale. She had been lost, afraid to find her way. Lucius had broken through the storm and brought her back. He would always be her sun, breaking through the clouds to guide her home.

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If you were intrigued by Lucius’s sister, read about Lady Annette and Lord Weston in A Wallflower’s Wassail Punch .