Extended Epilogue

“Where the hell is he!?” Celia raged at the ceiling of the bedchamber. She screamed again as a contraction seized her.

“There, lassie. Is that any way to call for yer husband?”

Celia shot Mairi a glare.

Unlike most people, Mairi was not cowed by it. Rather like Keith, she had a Scottish fierceness about her that had made her immune.

“Aye, lassie, not to worry. They’ll find him.”

“The one day he chooses to go hunting. The one day!” Celia cursed again as she flung herself back on the bed. “When is this baby going to come out?” She clutched her swollen stomach.

For all the discomfort and morning sickness over the last nine months, she would have taken it all again if it meant avoiding this pain. Twice over

“Mairi, please, make it stop.”

“It will soon, lassie, I promise ye.”

Celia loved how Mairi never called her ‘Your Grace.’ She was far too kind and doting for such a thing. From the day Mairi had arrived at their house, Celia had been ‘lassie.’

Mairi had helped her father completely recover from his illness through tonics and natural remedies. Since then, she had come back to England a couple of times, but when Celia fell pregnant and she found the physicians both infuriating and condescending, Keith had asked for Mairi to come back again.

The moment Mairi had returned, she’d swept in singing Scottish airs and talking about the bonnie child that was to arrive.

“I wish this child would just come out,” Celia whispered to Mairi as two maids ran around her, preparing for the birth. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting them for so long.”

“Don’t ye worry.” Mairi stood beside the bed and stroked back Celia’s damp hair. “They’ll be here soon enough, wailing and crying over all this fuss.”

Celia laughed in spite of the pain. Mairi had a habit of always cheering her up.

“Is everyone else here?” Celia asked, choosing not to look at the maids, who were now gathering towels.

Mairi must have issued some orders when Celia wasn’t paying attention, for they had suddenly sprung into action.

“Aye. Yer mother-in-law and cousin are downstairs. Yer sister and yer friends too.”

“And my mother?” Celia asked uncertainly.

Marianne had gotten over the shock of their rushed marriage within a couple of months, but Celia feared that her mother would never be completely at ease in her presence. Celia would always be wild, and having married a rather bold Scottish duke who had earned a reputation for being an excellent boxer and fighter had only confirmed the wild rumors.

“She’s here,” Mairi assured her, stroking back her hair again.

“Thank God,” Celia whispered. Now all she needed was for Keith to get here.

They had talked about their child a lot over the last few months. Sometimes, she saw a nervousness in his expression. His father had let him down so badly that it was easy to see that Keith was terrified about being such a disappointment to his own child.

A month ago, when Celia had not been able to sleep, Keith had joined her in her bed. The baby was kicking, and he’d lain behind her, his hand on her stomach to soothe the baby as the daylight faded beyond the windows.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” Celia had whispered, rubbing her stomach. “I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl.”

“Whoever they are, I’ll love them like nothing else in this world.” He’d pressed a single kiss, intimate and full of meaning, to her neck. “I promise ye this, Celia. They will be protected, better than any child could hope for.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be a wonderful father.”

He hadn’t answered but had kissed her again.

“Argh!” Celia felt the pain again. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, lassie, but we cannot wait for the father to be here. This bairn is coming now. Get yerself ready and sit up—it will be easier for ye.”

“Easier?” Celia said wildly, struggling to sit up.

“Well, perhaps a little.”

Celia was about to curse again when the pain wracked her body.

***

Keith kicked the door open. It ricocheted off the wall as his four friends rushed in behind him.

“You can’t have missed it. We raced back here as fast as we could,” Philip called, the closest behind him.

“If he has missed it, Celia will never let him forget it,” Xander said knowingly, taking the gun from Keith. He handed all the shotguns they had been using to the steward, who had accompanied them.

“Calm yourself, Keith.” Aaron clapped him on the shoulder as they marched across the hall, each of them dusting off the soil and errant leaves that had fallen on their clothes during their hunt. “You have a life ahead of you with this child.”

Keith nodded, though he felt quite numb. He couldn’t put into words the dual feeling of excitement and terror that had clung to him ever since he had found out that Celia was with child.

On the one hand, he was thrilled. He wanted to bring life to the world, something to love, something to raise better than his father had ever raised him. On the other hand, it opened up old wounds, old fears about repeating the past.

I am not that man. Hasn’t Celia shown me that this last year?

The past year had been wonderful. He’d loved every minute of it. Even when they were arguing, he adored her. It was the way they were together that was so fulfilling. Never once had he behaved like his father. He’d never raised his hand to her, never tried to control her—nothing.

I am Keith. I am my own man.

“Keith!” His mother’s voice pierced the air.

Keith shrugged off his frock coat as he turned to the nearest open door. Inside the drawing room was his mother, his cousin, his wife’s family, and her friends. Elizabeth was perhaps the tensest, waving a handkerchief frantically in her excitement.

“We have no news,” she said, hurrying to the door. “Mairi just said it was all happening very quickly.”

Jonathan moved forward next. Briefly, Keith took comfort in how well he looked. Since Mairi had treated him, the Marquess looked much healthier, with pinker skin and not a bead of sweat in sight.

“She’s strong,” Jonathan whispered to Keith reassuringly. “She’ll get through this, even if it is fast. She pulls herself through everything.”

Keith managed the smallest of smiles. He knew his father-in-law was right. Celia was just about the strongest woman he knew.

Yet, he also knew that things could go wrong in childbirth.

“Is she—” He broke off when her screams echoed through the corridors.

Everyone froze, looking at the ceiling.

“I think that means the baby is coming,” Dorian declared as he wrapped an arm around his wife. “Your scream was even louder, wasn’t it?”

“Not the time, Dorian,” she reprimanded him.

Keith could take no notice. As the others talked about getting drinks to calm their nerves, he hurried out of the room. Later, his wife’s friends and family could come and see her and the bairn, but now, he wished to be alone with his wife and child. He wanted to hold on to this moment and never forget it.

In the corridors, he passed maids carrying dirty towels and calling for clean ones. The sight of blood made Keith’s mouth run dry. No maid gave anything away as he passed by. They were all too busy carrying out their tasks.

When Keith reached the door, he found it had been left open by a maid.

He was there when it happened. He watched, rooted to the spot, as Celia let out the final cries.

“That’s it! That’s it, lassie. Here he comes!”

A boy. It’s a boy.

Keith stumbled into the room.

Celia’s shouts broke off as her spine crumpled. She looked in danger of falling back, with sheets piled around her thighs as Mairi lifted something bundled in fresh towels in the air. Celia lifted a hand, reaching for that bundle, but then she fell back.

Keith raced to get to her in time. He barely managed to catch her, then knelt on the bed behind her, supporting her.

“Keith,” she whispered, her voice feeble. She laid a hand on his, her affection plain. “You’re here.”

The relief in her voice flooded through him.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her head and brushing her damp hair to the side.

He was so grateful that she was all right that it took him a minute to focus on the bundle.

“Here we are,” Mairi declared, walking back toward them. “Yer son, laddie,” she addressed Keith. “Perhaps ye could hold him for a minute? I need to get yer wife here cleaned up.”

Keith hesitated. Surely Celia should hold him first? Yet, Celia nodded, urging him to do it.

Slowly, Keith eased back and stood beside the bed. He extended his arms and waited for Mairi to pass the bundle into his hands.

“He’s so small.” The words escaped him in a rush as his eyes landed on the face of his son. He could carry the boy using just his hands.

The towels kept him so hidden that Keith pulled the material back a bit, desperate to see more of his face. He was as gentle as he could possibly be. Though his son and heir made dry crying sounds, he wasn’t in too much distress. He was reaching out with one hand, as if looking for something.

Keith shifted, trying to soothe his boy by stroking his cheek. The boy reached up and grabbed onto his finger.

A rush of happiness overwhelmed him, and he found himself beaming as he had never done before in his life.

“Look at you.” Celia’s soft voice reached him.

Mairi had cleaned her up. She was propped up against the pillows now, watching him as more sheets were thrown over her and Mairi dried her forehead.

“I love you so much,” Celia whispered.

Keith moved toward her, sitting on the bed beside her and holding their boy between them.

“I love ye both,” he said in realization.

He hadn’t been prepared for this feeling, this need to keep the boy in his arms safe from anything that came his way.

At once, it hit him like lightning.

I never have been like my father, and I never will be.

For he would gladly lay down his life for his boy.

“I’ll go tell yer friends and family he’s here. I’ll ask that they give ye a few minutes alone before they come up,” Mairi said softly.

“Thank you, Mairi,” Celia called to her as she left the room. “Fancy releasing him yet?”

“Not really,” Keith said with a laugh. “But for ye? Anything.” He passed their son into her arms.

Transfixed, he sat beside his wife, his arms around her as she held their boy. They both just stared at him for many minutes as he opened his eyes and looked around, taking in his parents.

“I’ll be the best father and husband I can be, Celia,” Keith whispered to her. “I promise ye that.”

“Oh, my love.” She turned her head and looked at him. “I already know you will be.”

She leaned forward, and they shared the lightest of kisses. It was a mere brush of the lips, but the sweetness of the moment made Keith happier still.

“So, what shall we call him?” he said softly, helping her hold their son as her arms grew tired.

“How about Michael?”

“Nay, we need something more unique than that. What about Fergus?”

“Ergh. I have not just given birth to an eighty-year-old man.”

“Ha! We will always have something to argue about, won’t we, sweetheart?” he asked her as he placed a kiss on her neck.

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***

Two Years Later

Celia drummed her fingers on the base of her glass as she looked around the ballroom.

There didn’t seem to be a person missing tonight. Anyone whose name had ever been whispered was now here at their ball. Celia took a sip of her wine as she stood on the bottom step, her head a little higher than the crowds, so she could survey them all.

At one end of the ballroom were her friends and their husbands, all laughing about something that had evidently tickled them greatly. Celia smiled even as she looked at them, though she could not know from this distance what the joke was.

How things have changed over these last few years.

All at once, Celia was no longer in her ballroom. She was in a library, watching Violet, Eleanor, Grace, and Diana hide from the world.

“So much has changed,” she whispered to herself as she looked at her friends. Each of them was now deliriously happy. All of them had families they were devoted to.

Xander’s arm was wrapped around Violet’s waist, Dorian was cleaning Eleanor’s glasses, Aaron was holding Diana’s hand, and Philip and Grace were laughing about something so loudly that others were turning around to look at them. Their happiness was palpable from across the room.

Then her eyes landed on Lady Alicia.

Lady Alicia nodded and gave Celia a small smile. She had a habit of apologizing to her wherever she saw her, even after so many years.

But Celia understood desperation. And she couldn’t really hold a grudge, not when Lady Alicia’s actions had brought her and Keith closer together. If anything, Celia should be grateful, which is why she forgave Lady Alicia.

After Violet edited her piece and exposed the man who had seduced her instead, Lady Alicia married him and secured her child’s future.

“Your Grace, Your Grace!” a familiar voice called for Celia, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, Lady Arundel?” Celia turned to face the lady as she approached.

Lady Arundel fluttered a fan in front of her face animatedly, trying to hide her rather excited expression.

“What a delight it is to be at your ball this evening. You and your husband have held quite the event of the Season.”

“Have we?” Celia said with interest. “You are too kind.”

She wasn’t going to give away the fact that she had held this ball with a very specific purpose in mind. Slyly, her eyes flitted to a group of young single ladies in the room, including her husband’s cousin.

Just as Violet and the others had once done, they stood in an isolated circle, each of them looking rather eager to find a place to hide. One lady hid completely behind her fan, another behind her elder sister, and a third seemed to be calming her nerves by helping herself to a third glass of champagne.

“Tell me, are the whispers true?” Lady Arundel asked, moving up a step so they were at eye level.

“What rumors?” Celia adopted a nonchalant tone.

“Are you returning to being a matchmaker?”

Celia pointedly took another sip of her wine.

“Oh… you are!” Lady Arundel declared with glee.

“I said no such thing.” Celia smiled broadly. “I must greet my visitors. I wish you a good evening, Lady Arundel.”

“Oh, you are, indeed.” Lady Arundel practically shook with excitement. “Who are you to match then?”

“Good evening,” Celia said again and moved off the step. She made her way through the crowd, heading toward the group of single ladies, including Keith’s cousin.

She had met this particular group at a recent tea party. She had seen so many similarities between them and her friends.

Each of them was nervous about the world of the ton, and they all chose to hide away instead of facing the world.

It’s time to bring them out of their shells.

“What are ye up to?” A hand suddenly came up around her waist.

Celia was turned sharply away. Half falling into Keith’s chest, she laughed as she gazed up at him, nearly dropping her wine glass.

“You startled me!”

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “I was trying to save a particular group of young ladies from yer attention.”

Warmth spread through Celia’s body. It was an equally electrifying feeling, and a sensation of coming home, whenever Keith was near.

“Saving? Pah!” Celia laughed and pointed across the room. “Perhaps they could do with a little matchmaking, don’t you think? Someone who can prod them into stepping forward and taking their futures into their own hands.”

“Aye, Celia. Yer dares worked well for all of us.” He gestured between them and their friends. “But ye do not know whether it will work for others too.”

“Trust me.” She winked at him. “Maybe sometimes, all a lady needs to do to find happiness in this world is to step forward. Maybe… not everything good just arrives on our doorsteps. Or…” She paused, waiting until she was certain she had her husband waiting on her every word. “Would you rather I hadn’t taken a dip in the lake that night?”

His lips curled into that perfect, sultry smirk.

“Ye know I wouldn’t change that night for the world.”

He took the glass from her hand. As he handed the glass to a server passing by, he turned her hand over and pressed his lips to the back of it.

A thrill shot through Celia, one that made her long to be alone with him again. It was this happiness she wanted to give to other women—the feeling that they had indeed met their perfect partners.

“Save yer matchmaking for two minutes, Celia. Yer husband wants ye for a dance.”

“If you insist,” she said playfully, willingly following him to the dance floor. “But not for long, I plan to matchmake all the young ladies in London!”

The End.