Epilogue

EPILOGUE

D ecember 1824

Hawke woke the day after Christmas with a sleepy smile. One year ago, he would not have conceived of the plan that would move him from his childhood home, from all the good lasting memories he had made there, from the only real life he had ever known, to this extraordinary life.

And what had also seemed inconceivable last year, lying in bed next to him, was the very real culmination of a love so great his heart was not big enough to contain it. It seeped out of him in joy, in kisses, in family—a very opinionated lot and fiercely loyal. Misfits one and all. Rochester and Hudson were so much a part of his family that he and Lovie were spending the holiday in the country house, which now belonged to Hudson alone. Last year, there had been no room for him at the inn, as it were, and this year, there was room aplenty in heart and home alike.

Hawke leaned on his elbow, waving a finger over Anna Elizabeth Hawke's bobbling hands as she tried to grab for him. Her aim was still erratic and sloppily adorable. Little curly locks of auburn hair feathered the mattress beneath her tiny head. Two and half months, and she was starting to smile real smiles. Now and again, he could encourage a hiccupping coo from her. He considered that his greatest achievement to date, with the exception of the love between him and his beautiful wife.

Lovie was not lying on the other side of Anna this morning, though. She must have stepped away while they slept. He played with Anna for another five minutes and then rolled out of bed. Little dark button eyes followed him about the room as he dressed. Then like most mornings, he changed a nappy and swaddled the baby in a clean gown and blankets. Lovie had called him a natural.

"All right, little lamb, let's find your mum." Hawke ventured to the breakfast room, but it was empty. He stopped by the family parlor and found Hudson reading the paper.

"About time you rose for the day," Hudson said, completely obscured by the dailies, the paper rattling as he turned the page.

"Where is my wife?"

"My sister has not been seen."

Every chance he got, Hudson ribbed Hawke because he knew how much it riled him. But not today. "And if you knew, would you tell?"

Hudson forced the paper into an ill-cornered fold and set it beside him on the settee. "I might not. Why don't you give me my niece while you scout." Hudson was already standing, making his way toward Hawke.

"It's not like Lovie to disappear. What if the babe gets hungry?"

"Nonsense. She looks fit and sated to me. Besides, you'll have more freedom to look for Lovie. Now hand her over."

"I'll ring for a nurse."

"Don't you dare," Hudson said, taking the baby into his arms. Anna transformed the facial expressions of everyone who held her into a smile, even Hudson's. He grinned like a doting uncle, which of course he was.

Hawke decided he was right. He left Anna to Hudson and searched the rest of the parlors. He ended up back in the drawing room. The bow windows were decorated with greenery. Mistletoe hung over the door. A bowl of punch was at the side table, and he smiled remembering last Christmas in this very room where Lovie had kissed him.

He snapped his fingers. "Of course, you little minx," he said to an empty room before he retrieved his greatcoat and headed out into the elements. A slow drizzle of rain had started, and he knew where she was.

He hurried, cutting through a field and cursing the mud. When he came upon the cottage, he was unquestionably soaked.

"There you are," Hawke said when he opened the door and found his beautiful wife seated on the sofa, her arm resting on the back cushion.

"I've only been waiting all morning."

"How did you know I'd find you?" He shut the door against the cold and basked in the warmth of a blazing fire. He was wet and chilled until he saw her smile.

"I had faith that you'd figure it out before long."

"You should have told someone where you would be. What if Anna gets hungry?"

"I fed her just before I left. She should be comfortable for at least another hour, so I'd make good work of the time were I you."

"Hudson took her from me."

She laughed. "Is that resentment I hear?"

"Perhaps a little. I want all her smiles." He took off his coat and hung it on a peg, then shook the rain from his hair.

"She has enough for us all, I promise. And Hudson adores her. Besides, I asked him to take her."

"You did not." He tried to sound harsh but couldn't manage it because he didn't feel it. In truth, he liked Hudson. "Don't tell me he knew you were here because I asked him."

"Of course, he did, and I told him not to tell you." She smiled, satisfied as she patted the clean sofa covered in a ruddy damask slipcover. A far cry from last Christmas. "Come sit with me and tell me how you figured out my hiding place."

He did as she suggested and sat down beside her. "Because one year ago today, a woman asked me how to make love standing up, and although I did not oblige her request, I did make love to her right there on the floor before the fire."

"I did not ask you to make love to me standing up."

"You did. But I'd rather not waste time on semantics. I'd rather get out of these wet clothes."

"Would you? Well then, my love, let me help."

And she did. She helped him with so many things, like making a new home, a forever family, and love. He'd never had siblings, but Lovie's cousin and brother accepted him with ease, although Hudson didn't like to admit it.

* * *

Underneath the weight of her wonderful world, Lovie Hawke lay with her husband before a roaring fire of her making.

"Remi, how did you know I wanted to kiss you when we met?"

"I could see it in your eyes. The spark hit me right here." He pointed to his mouth. "And here." He pointed to his heart. "And here." He pointed to his groin with a teasing lift of his brow.

"Where did it hit first?" Her smile was a promise.

"In a place only you could touch."

"Your heart," she said breathlessly.

He chuckled. "No, darling, everywhere at once. I belong to you, and you belong to me. Never doubt it."

"I didn't want to like you."

"I know," he said with an understanding smile.

"You think you're so smart." She gently shoved him. "I wager you did not know that I meant to lead you to this cabin."

"Today?"

"No, last year. The barn would have been easier, and we were just as soaked either way. But my imagination was running wild, Mr. Hawke, and I wanted you to tame it."

"I have found your imagination to be endless and untamable."

"It is as endless as my love for you, Remington."

"Then I count myself the luckiest man who ever lived."

THE END