Extended Epilogues

Six Months Later

A gentle breeze brushed past her cheek, bringing a soft chill to her skin. Selina knew she should move away from the balcony doors, lest she fall ill, but she found that she was enjoying the cold these past few months. With coming winter, Selina was afraid she just might indulge in this odd pleasure far more than she should.

Despite knowing what she should do, she remained at the open doors, staring out past the gardens. Behind her, she heard a gentle knock but said nothing. Lily would make her way inside whether Selina responded or not.

Just as she expected, Lily entered the room and closed the door behind her with an audible click. Selina didn’t bother to turn. She continued staring out at the gardens, listening as Lily approached.

“You will fall ill if you stay here for much longer, My Lady,” Lily told her, her voice as deadpan as ever.

Selina drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her nose. “I know,” she responded.

Lily said nothing as if she was waiting. Selina was grateful for it because it gave her a few more moments to enjoy the chilly breeze before she stepped away from the open doors, tightening the shawl around her shoulders. She made her way to the bed and watched as Lily pulled the doors closed and turned to face her.

“You have visitors, My Lady,” Lily said. “The Duchess of Leinster, the Duchess of Rutherford, and a Lady Tereza.”

“Ah, they have all come to visit me at once?” Selina asked, shooting to her feet. The moment she did, a wave of dizziness came over her and she tilted to the side. Her hand instantly shot to her rounded belly.

Lily was by her side within a second, holding her firmly by both arms. She steadied Selina, not stepping away until Selina was standing soundly on both feet.

“Heavens,” Selina breathed. “I forgot what would happen if I stood up too quickly.” She flashed Lily a smile. “Thank you, Lily. I do not know what this little one would do without you.”

Lily’s silence continued, acknowledging Selina with only a nod and a smile. Considering she’d only seen Lily smile a handful of times since they’ve known each other, Selina could tell that she was in an extraordinarily good mood.

And so was Selina, despite her terrible morning. Already waddling towards her door, she absently ran her hand over her enlarged belly, the source of her many dizzying spells lately. Added to the terrible sickness that she’d had to endure for months on end, as well as her fatigue and constant hunger, Selina was already nearing her wit’s end.

But every time she thought about the moment she’d learned she was with child, and the moment she would finally bring her baby into this world, all those ill feelings faded. According to her physician, she was already coming up to the last few months before her labor and Selina could hardly wait.

And of course, her sisters could not wait either. She’d made sure to send word of her state to her family and had expected them to visit. But she hadn’t expected her sisters to all come at once.

Lily followed in her wake as Selina made her way to the drawing-room where she knew they would be waiting. The trip was slow, on account of her heavy state, and by the time she’d made it down the steps, her feet were aching. Selina pushed on ahead, bracing a hand on the base of her back for the rest of her journey.

The moment she stepped through the doors, the conversation that had been ensuing came to a halt. Tereza shot to her feet first, rushing over to Selina with Louisa right on her heels.

“Oh, my goodness, you’re absolutely glowing!” Tereza exclaimed. Her mouth opened in awe, taking in first Selina’s face then her stomach. “May I?”

“Go right ahead,” Selina urged with a grin. She watched as Tereza’s eyes widened even further as she rested a hand on Selina’s belly. At that moment, the baby moved and Tereza gasped.

“She’s so hearty!” Tereza sighed. “Oh, goodness, I love her so much already.”

“I must say, Selina,” Louisa cut in, standing next to Tereza. “You do look quite beautiful. Being with child certainly suits you.”

“You should let her sit before she topples over,” Charlotte called from behind. She hadn’t risen from her seat, but her smile was as broad as Tereza’s.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Louisa took Selina’s left while Tereza took her right. They both escorted her to a comfortable armchair before they went back to their own.

“So,” Charlotte began, resting her teacup on its saucers. “How does it feel?”

Selina sighed. “None of you told me that it would be this difficult. I spent the entire morning deciding if I would rather fill my stomach or empty it.”

“Hopefully, you did both?” Louisa probed. Her blue eyes sparkled with humor, raising her own teacup to her lips.

“I had no choice but to,” Selina responded. She caressed her belly gently. “He is the one who has all the authority.”

Louisa chuckled. “I must say that I envy you, Selina. Though when I bore my children, I did not struggle as much as you are, I would do whatever I could to be with child again.”

“You’ve only given birth a few months ago, Louisa,” Charlotte pointed out.

Louisa sighed. “And I cannot wait for the third time.”

“Well, I’m certain you are well aware of how to make that happen, aren’t you?” Selina asked with a teasing grin.

All the ladies laughed, except for Tereza. Her cheeks went red instead and she stared wide-eyed at Selina, as if she couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth. In fact, Selina couldn’t believe it herself. She’d never alluded to such things before, even though she was married. But with her sisters, she felt comfortable saying anything.

“That reminds me,” Louisa spoke up once she was done laughing. She turned to Tereza, “Your second Season has already begun, has it not?”

“That is what reminded you to ask me that?” Tereza gasped.

“Oh, come now, Tereza, there is no need to be shy.” Louisa gave her a mischievous look. “I’m certain you know what led to Selina being in such a state, aren’t you?”

Tereza’s cheeks only grew redder. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, clearly at a loss for what to say.

Charlotte reached over and tapped Louisa gently on her shoulder in mock disapproval. “Oh, don’t tease her too much, Louisa. She’s still quite young. Now, tell us, Tereza, how fares this Season? Have you met anyone you might fancy?”

Tereza nodded slowly. Selina watched with intrigue as her outspoken and energetic sister grew interestingly shy. “Perhaps,” was all she said.

Tereza had spent the last Season doing exactly what she’d set out to do—enjoy herself. She’d claimed that even though she’d opened herself up to the possibility of falling in love, she did not intend on forcing it to happen. But now that she’d begun her second Season, it appears there might already be someone up for the task.

Both Louisa and Charlotte looked quite intrigued by Tereza’s words. “Pray tell who this lucky soul is,” Charlotte urged.

“I hope he is able to keep up with you in any capacity,” Louisa said before Tereza had a chance to reply.

“I’m sure there is someone who possesses half the energy as Tereza does,” Selina jumped in as well, smiling pleasantly at her younger sister.

Tereza only rolled her eyes. “If you all insist on teasing me about it then, I shan’t say a single word. I’ll only let your curiosity eat you alive.”

“I’m certain Mother will tell me if I ask,” Louisa said simply.

That was enough to make Tereza’s confidence wither a bit. At this point, Selina was afraid her cheeks might be stained permanently red from her constant blushing. Before she could protest Louisa’s subtle threat, however, another voice sounded from behind Selina.

“The Warwick sisters all in one place?” came Michael’s happy baritone. “I must be quite the lucky man.”

Selina couldn’t look around to see him, no matter how much she wanted to. She waited eagerly for him to come to a stop by her side, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Michael always had the same effect on her no matter how many times she saw him. As the days wore into weeks and months, her love for him only seemed to grow, only seem to blossom whenever he was near. She couldn’t keep the wide smile off her face and couldn’t stop herself from resting a hand on the one he had on her shoulders.

At her touch, Michael looked down at her, capturing her eyes with a soft smile. In that moment, the world seemed to disappear. Once again, their love was the only thing that existed, and the child she would give birth to, was a beautiful reminder of their perfectly imperfect story.

“Would you two like for us to leave?” came Louisa’s voice. Selina looked back at her, forgetting for a few moments that her sisters were sitting nearby.

“We would be more than happy to if you two would like your privacy,” Charlotte agreed with a smile.

Selina was already shaking her head, but it was Michael who responded. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin your reunion. I only ask that you allow me to steal Selina away for a short while.”

“We don’t mind at all,” Tereza spoke up. “Just don’t keep her for too long. There is a lot we need to talk about.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Michael reached down to take Selina’s hand, resting his other hand on her back as he eased her to a stand. Selina couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, even as she looked back at Tereza.

“Don’t say anything about this mystery gentleman until I return, all right?”

“We make no promises,” Louisa answered.

Selina didn’t doubt it. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were to return to find that her and Charlotte had whittled away at Tereza’s defenses until she told them everything they were curious about. Selina shook her head at the thought, then allowed Michael to help her towards the door, his hand still on her back.

She waited until they were out of the drawing-room to say, “I can walk just fine on my own, you know.”

“Yes, but this gives me the opportunity to touch you more often without looking odd,” he responded with a sultry smile. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, lowering a gentle kiss on her lips.

Heat curled throughout her midsection. Selina hummed happily, closing her eyes to enjoy his tender kiss. “I missed that. I missed you.”

“I’ve only been away for a day.”

“My statement stands.” She looked up into his heated green eyes. “It’s been a terrible morning and all I could think about is how much better it would have been had you been here.”

Unable to help herself, she reached up and kissed him again. In the six months since his accident, he’d been wary when coming and going, not wanting to risk there being another accident now that Selina was with child. As such, they spent nearly every moment together. Selina had suspected that at some point, she would need her space—especially considering the fact that her emotions had been a little fragile as the baby grew. But when he was with her, she was happy. And when he was gone, she missed him.

“I wish I could have,” he told her. “But, not to worry. I shall not leave your side even if you try to push me away.”

“Impossible. If I do try to push you away, our child will be quite upset with me.”

“Not to mention the fact that you adore my company.”

“Well, that certainly goes without saying.”

Michael placed his hand on her belly again, stroking gently. As if the baby sensed his father’s touch, it kicked hard. Selina gasped at the sensation and Michael’s eyes went wide.

“I think she’s agreeing with you,” he pointed out. The awed look on his face whenever the baby kicked always filled Selina with such pleasure.

“You believe the baby will be a girl?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“With good reason. With the way she moves before even being born, I can tell that she will have your spirit.”

“On the contrary, I believe the baby will be a boy. As stubborn as his father.”

That seductive smile she fell in love with stretched across his face. Michael pulled her closer, bringing his lips close to hers. He hovered there, taunting her, making her breathless. Coupled with the thumb stroking the small of her back, Selina was fast beginning to forget what the conversation was about, only wanting him to kiss her.

Then his lips twitched as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts. Michael brought his lips even closer, brushing them lightly over hers before finally whispered, “Would you like to bet?”

If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…

Lady Tereza Warwick is determined to win over an experienced, older gentleman, but she knows that knowledge in love matters is essential to achieve her plans. So, when her best friend’s brother offers to teach her the art of swoon, her goal seems to settle in place. Only that, resisting her tutor’s charming ways becomes harder as they get close, and now the decision between the two men is hard to make…

Ravished by the Reformed Rake

November 7, 1815

The months passed, and Daniel and Sally settled into their new lives on Bird Farm. Daniel’s father kept his word and respected his son as the new master of the property, and very soon, the place fairly bloomed with green fields and a vegetable garden, and along the south side of the house, a stand of yellow roses.

On a grey day in early November, Sally waited at the gate to greet two long-awaited visitors: her old friend Merope Brookford, and Grace Miller – the former servant girl who was now Lady Worthington.

“I am so happy to see you both!” she told them, as they drove up in a beautiful little governess cart drawn by one of the Worthington ponies. “I have so much to show you.”

“And we cannot wait to see it all!” said Grace, stepping out of the cart and hugging Sally.

“The place does look wonderful,” said Merope, getting out and hugging her as well.

Daniel stepped up to take the bay pony. “Take care with him, Mr. Bird,” said Grace with a laugh. “He is a favorite of the dowager duchess, and is on loan to us especially for today.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Daniel, bowing to her. “This is Woodlark, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is,” Grace answered. “He is a dear and quite nice to drive.”

“I shall take very good care of him, I promise you,” Daniel said, and led the pony and governess cart towards the shed where Pipit was kept.

Sally leaned down close to her two friends. “We are getting two large ponies and a new wagon next week,” she told them. “I am so happy. Daniel says he will get me a small vehicle to drive, as well, a bit later on, and perhaps even a small pony that will be mine alone to use.”

“So exciting!” said Merope. “I am truly happy for you, Sally.”

With great pride in her grand new home, Sally showed her friends around the newly improved Bird Farm. “My yellow roses are being specially grown to sell at the market each week, whenever I have enough of them,” Sally told them. “I hope to add white and pink very soon.”

“Oh, my mother will take all the white ones you have for the dining room at the inn,” said Merope.

“And if you ever grow red ones, I will take all of those!” said Grace.

“In that case, red shall be next,” said Sally. “There is the vegetable garden, greatly expanded for all of us here and for the market as well.”

“Another crop for my mother to buy,” said Merope, and all of them laughed.

“Now, in this paddock you might recognize at least one of the occupants.” Sally stopped beside the fence of a small paddock, built onto the side of the larger field. “This is Pipit, Daniel’s cart horse, who is now – I am glad to say – quite retired.”

“I’m glad to know that,” said Merope. “There was no harder-working creature in all of Birdwell than old Pipit.”

“True,” said Sally. “But he does have tasks to do as yet. Do you see those three large goats in there with him?”

“Why, yes,” said Grace. “Let me guess, Pipit is teaching them to be companions for horses!”

“Exactly so,” said Sally. “Your brothers must have told you.”

“They did, they did,” Grace laughed. “But it seems that goats are very good for nervous horses. Who would have thought they might be good for that as well?”

“None other than Daniel Bird,” said Sally. “Now, here, in this walled yard, is something very special.”

Sally opened the solid wooden gate of the yard and showed them a half-dozen young black-and-grey goats, who immediately crowded together and stood looking at their visitors.

“They are half native English goat and half Nubian,” she explained. “Smaller than the native goats, with softer coats and drooping ears. We are very much looking forward to the benefit they can bring to our English farmers.”

“I can tell you that the earl is very pleased with the work you and Daniel have done to bring these animals to Birdwell,” said Grace.

Sally just smiled at her. “We hope there will be a good number of new baby kids early next spring,” she said.

But neither Merope nor Grace said anything to that; all they did was look knowingly at each other.

“What is it?” asked Sally, a little puzzled; but then she began to realize that it could only be one thing. “Are you…?” she asked Grace.

“And are you…?” said Grace.

“And are the both of you…?” said Merope.

“Yes!” all three of them cried together.

“Yes, for me,” said Sally. “In the spring.”

“Yes, for me, too,” said Grace. “Also in the spring.”

“And another yes,” said Merope. “A bit later, in the summer.”

“Then let us all look forward to our new babies and our new lives!” said Sally, and the three friends hugged each other and started back towards the house together.

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“What a beautiful day.” Simon sighed, leaning back on his elbows as he squinted up into the sunshine of the garden. The two of them were taking advantage of the good weather with a little outdoor picnic. They had taken a blanket and Mrs Bolton had happily made them a small basket, including, at Marion’s secret request, a bottle of Champagne.

Marion had a surprise for her husband, and she couldn’t wait to spring it on him. She had waited until they had found a glorious spot overlooking the lake, under the gentle shade of the willow tree. Simon was stretched out, his long legs in front of him and his leather boots crossed at the ankle. Since the attack a few months before, Simon and Marion had barely spent any time apart. Neither of them took much joy in visiting London any more, and preferred to visit Eleanor and Nathan when they were at their estate, or even better, have the couple and their sons visit them at Reading Estate.

Mrs Bolton enjoyed having the two babies around, and Loretta made a tremendous fuss of them. It felt as if the whole household was preparing for a similar future for Marion and Simon, even Simon himself. Marion had caught him the last time Eleanor and Nathan had visited with one of the twins in his arms, singing to him softly in the music room.

She had overheard his sweet words.

“This is where your Aunt Marion plays music, and plays so beautifully. When you have a little cousin to play with, then she will teach you all to be fine musicians.”

Marion’s heart had clenched with both love and joy at his words. She had offered prayers and whispered wishes to both her dead mother and father and all the saints that soon, their family’s joy would be complete. Today, after weeks of anxiously waiting and secret conversations with Loretta and Doctor Fuchs, was finally the day she could talk about her secret with Simon. Her heart was racing but she folded her hands in the lap of her gown, a new crimson one that was Simon’s latest favourite.

“It is a beautiful day,” Marion said playfully. “I wonder if there could be anything that might make it more perfect.”

“Hmmm.” Simon tilted his head, gazing at her lovingly. “I don’t think there is anything. What could be more perfect than the two of us, together?”

“Well, I can think of something,” Marion said tartly.

“Oh?” Simon raised his eyebrows. “And what might that be?”

“Well…” Marion looked up to the sky, pretending to think carefully, unable to stop a slight smile playing around her lips. “What about…the three of us, together?”

“The three of us?” Simon sat up sharply, no longer languid and relaxed. He was staring at Marion with eyes wide, mouth slightly slack. He stared at her abdomen as if expecting an embossed announcement to suddenly appear.

“Are you—? What are—? Do you—?”

Marion laughed at him, covering her mouth with her hand. Simon was, in so many ways, the mature one of their relationship, but at that moment he looked so much like a young bridegroom, amazed and baffled by the news that he was suddenly to become a father. She found it absolutely adorable that her usually eloquent husband was so completely at a loss for words.

“Marion!” Simon exclaimed, desperately looking at her with raised eyebrows, waiting tensely for her to speak. “Tell me! Are you—?”

“Yes,” Marion said, smiling at him. “Yes, Simon. I am with child.”

In a breathless moment, her husband had launched forward, kissing her all over her face, her eyes, her lips, the small scar on her forehead, until he pulled away, gasping. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Are you well? Is there anything you need?”

“Yes, I am quite well, and no, don’t worry! Doctor Fuchs has it all in hand.”  Marion laughed, brushing Simon’s hair back from his face where it had become dishevelled. His grey eyes were alight in a way that she had never seen—bright as silver, or fast clouds moving across the sky. Filled with hope.

 “I only hope that it is a son, and we will finally have the heir you have long desired.”

“Oh, my dearest love.” Simon cupped her face tenderly and kissed her sweetly on the lips, his hands unconsciously coming to rest on her softly rounded belly. “I already have everything I ever desired. A child will only add to my happiness.”

“And start our family,” Marion said, smiling up at him eagerly. “The first of many.”

“Oh, my Countess—I see you have plans!” Simon laughed, pulling Marion into his arms and lying down with her, allowing her to nestle against his side and fit her chin against his collarbone in her favourite place to rest. She sighed deeply.

“I plan to give you many sons,” she whispered softly, in her mind’s eye imagining a family portrait populated with happy, strong children. “And a daughter whom I shall call Eleanor.”

“Well, in this I concede to you, my dear wife,” Simon murmured, pressing a kiss against her hair. Marion felt her husband brush his nose against her head and knew he was inhaling the scent of her hair, as he was wont to do. Marion smiled to herself. This was exquisite joy, this familiarity; knowing one’s love and being known by him in turn.

“There is one aspect of this on which I shall not be moved, however,” Simon said with quiet resolve.

“Oh?” Marion lazily stroked patterns against her husband’s waistcoat, feeling dozy with the new burden of the child inside her and the warm afternoon sun. “What is that?”

“If the child you carry is a boy, I do not want to call him Simon.”

Marion stopped her stroking and lifted her head, staring at her husband. He had the strangest smile on his face, as if he was seeing something far away.

“But it is tradition for the Earl of Reading to be named for his father!” Marion exclaimed, thinking of how the Dowager Countess would rage if she found out they had bucked tradition in this way. “You are Simon, named for your father, named for his father—”

“I know, love,” Simon laughed softly, tugging Marion back down and kissing her head again. “But I would like to name our son for a different father—for yours.”

Marion’s breath caught in her throat. Simon’s hand moved protectively to her belly and Marion’s hand joined his, their fingers entwining together.

“I should like to call him Edward,” Simon said softly. “Might it be suitable?”

Marion swallowed hard, blinking back tears at her husband’s exceptional generosity and sweetness. He was the perfect combination of traditional and surprising, and she loved him for it.

“I think it might be,” she whispered. “I think it might be eminently suitable, my love.”

They lay together in silence in the sunshine, no need for words, just their warm bodies and the soft sunlight, and the secret sounds of their three heartbeats. One still too quiet to be heard, but felt, gently, by Marion in the deepest part of herself. Marion sighed, relaxing completely into the love of her husband.

“It is a perfect day,” she sighed.

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The marriage of Cecily Dancer, née Anderson-Reese, and D’Arcy Dancer, just like their two weddings, was the model held up by nearly everyone in good society in all their years in London. They raised a family of four attractive and brilliant children, mostly in London, and sometimes in Ireland, although they never returned to Lincolnshire. The Dowager of Yarmouth, although she had chambers in Lincolnshire, chose instead to reside with the Dancer family, and even devoted much of her time to the children who were some of the brightest and best-behaved children anyone in London had ever seen.

Their four children were Andrew, the eldest and smartest of the children, followed by Patrick, the second, a most empathetic and kindly young man who was two years younger, and then two daughters, Fiona and Diana, who were fraternal twins, and who were three years younger than Patrick. They were both kind and caring and sweet and all four of them grew into excellent examples of British society.

Andrew went to Oxford and entered the House of Lords as a young man, while Patrick went back to Ireland to help with the relief efforts, and finally settled down as a priest with the Church of England. Fiona and Diana both married well and were productive members of society.

Of course, the family returned to Ireland several times a year, where Fintan O’Malley had undertaken a program of land improvement in Kilkenny, which spared many of the peasants in the land of Callan from the potato famine that ravaged much of Ireland only a few years later, and for many years to come. During much of this time, D’Arcy and Cecily were to be found in London, where D’Arcy formed a relief fund for the destitute Irish emigrants, helping them to get to the New World.

“My darling,” said Cecily to D’Arcy one afternoon in the later stages of their life. “I think it would be a lovely thing to take a picnic, now that our children are away.”

“But darling, all of them are descending upon us this evening. Surely you remember that our annual family reunion is tomorrow.”

Cecily laughed, holding her back to prevent the ache that had been bothering her since she turned sixty. “Of course I remember. That is precisely why I want you to myself this afternoon, far from the prying eyes of Fintan and Finnegan.”

“You want a picnic then?” said D’Arcy, smiling, smoothing back his long grey locks. Whenever he made that motion, Cecily fell in love with him again, as if it were for the first time. The years had marked his face with the crags and crannies of age. He was nearly seventy, but still as handsome to her as the day she first saw him at the ball all those years ago.

“I want nothing better,” she said, and moved to him. He kissed her passionately. She, too, bore the ravages of age, but to D’Arcy, who had loved her deeply and passionately for nearly forty years, she was the most beautiful woman who had ever been tossed out of Eden. His kiss was met with her lips, curled as they were in a smile.

“Then I shall have the cook prepare us something sumptuous,” he said.

An hour later, the two of them set out in their little carriage. D’Arcy took the reins and steered them to a little bower he had made thirty years ago for just such an occasion. Cecily, who never knew about this place, sat beside him, breathing in the warm spring air of her beloved Kilkenny. “My love, I do not think it possible to be happier than I am at this minute.”

“I am willing to bet you can,” he said cryptically. Cecily smiled at the eternal creativity of her husband. What had she done, she asked herself, to deserve someone who thought so often and so deeply about her happiness.

“You are a fox, you are, my grey-beard goon,” she laughed.

They rounded the bend in the road, and D’Arcy pointed out a narrow opening in the roadside copse of trees. “We shall go this way,” he declared.

“I have used this road as inspiration for so many of my novels,” she said pensively.

“I know you have,” he said. “I have read every word you have published, and that is no mean feat. This road featured prominently in The Tenant of Mersey Hall, if memory serves.”

“Yes, and in The Highwayman’s Lover, too,” she said, laughing, recalling her early years as a writer. There were times when she could hardly keep up with the demand from her publisher, Mr Thackeray, publisher of The Constitution, the literary journal that she had helped keep afloat for several years before publishing her work in book form. Sometimes, she confessed to herself—but to no one else—she wrote things she would have rather kept to herself. But the readers were voracious in those days, demanding stories of increasing passion and action.

“I daresay, The Highwayman’s Lover was a wonderful book,” said D’Arcy, recalling the passionate scenes by moonlight on a road just like this one.

“Those were heady days,” she recalled, turning to D’Arcy and forgetting the road. “You know that every hero I ever wrote was you, do you not?”

“My darling, that could hardly be true, for they were always so handsome.”

“Just as you are to me, my love,” she said, cuddling into his still-strong arms.

D’Arcy pulled the carriage to halt. “Well,” he said. “What do you think?”

Cecily looked up and saw spread before her like a painting the most beautiful bower she could ever imagine. Lush with the spring greenery of Ireland, it was a beautiful room cut into a copse of trees, with a little brook babbling through the center of it. There was a rough-hewn table and several very comfortable chairs, as well as a swing hanging from one of the overhanging branches.

“My God, D’Arcy, it is divine,” she said.

“Do you know who designed it?”

“Was it not you?” she said in astonishment.

He shook his head.

“You mean, you simply found this?”

“Nay. I did not.”

“Then who did?” she asked, getting confused.

“My darling, this is the very bower you created for the trysts between the highwayman and Bess, his lover. Do you not remember?”

And as she recalled her writing from thirty years back she realized that, not only had D’Arcy read her work, he had created art of his own modeled on the work of her imagination.

She was beside herself. Tears began to pour from her eyes. She was unable to control the love she felt for this man who had so much ingenuity, so much love for her, that he could recreate something she had invented in her mind and save it for thirty years to surprise her in her dotage. He took her in his arms and kissed her. Together they fell to the soft grass and clutched one another as if they were children discovering their passion for the first time.

“I have never loved you more than I do at this moment,” she said, her tears pouring liberally on to D’Arcy’s face.

He wiped them with great joy and clutched her all the tighter. “I have never been happier,” he said, taking his handkerchief and drying her tears.

“Tomorrow, my love, I have another announcement,” he said.

“Are you planning on telling me or will you cause my heart to explode again? It may cost me my life if you do, you know. For I am no longer a young woman.”

“I shall tell you,” he said. “But I want to tell the whole family, for this will affect them as well.”

“What is it? You silly goose,” she said as she kissed his wet face.

“Do you remember all those books you wrote about the young woman taking the Grand Tour? Discovering the great artworks of Renaissance Italy?” he said.

“Well, of course,” she said.

“And do you realize that, in all our time together, we never traveled past France?”

“Well, that is because Jonathan and Garance have that lovely chateau in Provence,” said Cecily.

“It is divine,” he said. “But I have arranged for passage on a lovely new schooner to take us to Florence.”

“Oh, D’Arcy. That is wonderful. When?”

“We leave in two weeks’ time,” he said. “No time like the present.”

Once again, Cecily was struck dumb. “I am so glad that you remembered. I have always wanted to go to Florence,” she said.

“Ah, but not only Florence. We shall go to Venice and Genoa and Rome and Naples. And then we shall go to Greece. We will see everything. I want you to be like Alexander, to weep because you have no more lands to conquer.”

“Then I shall accept your offer, you mad Irishman,” she said, leaping on to his aging form as though she were a wildcat upon a deer.

D’Arcy fell backwards and kissed her deeply.

“Mother,” said Patrick as he sat down to dinner the next day. “I must say I was scandalized last month. You see, I had never read your work before and thought it high time I remedied that situation.”

“I see,” said Cecily, smiling benignly at her son. “What is it that scandalized you?”

“Well, I picked up a copy of your book, The Pyrate.”

“Oh my,” said Cecily, blushing. “You picked up my most scandalous novel. I daresay it is not appropriate for a priest to be reading that sort of thing.”

Diana and Fiona, who knew about this, both laughed heartily. “I suppose you know,” said Fiona, who was the more wicked of the Dancer girls, “that book is based on Father’s experience with a real pirate, Miss Ann O’Mally. Is that not true, Father?”

It was D’Arcy’s turn to blush this time. “Well, of course, I did meet the pirate in question, but I was certainly never seduced by her. Your mother has a fanciful imagination, you know. These things always seem to grow into epic poems in your mother’s imagination.”

“I certainly relished reading that one. In fact, I read it to Dennis, and it made him fall madly in love with me. We have that book to thank for our first child, I daresay.”

Dennis, who was a pudgy bookish fellow, more comfortable with a ledger than with a woman, was aghast at Fiona’s fiery and lascivious nature, and sat with his mouth open, his fork in mid-air. He was trying to speak but found himself without words. Lavinia, their thirteen-year-old daughter, who was the spitting image of Cecily as a girl, laughed so hard a piece of chicken shot across the table and hit D’Arcy Junior, Diana’s youngest child, in the eye.

“Oy. Careful with your missiles,” he said.

Shortly, the table descended into good natured madness for several minutes, until D’Arcy, realizing that the brood of high-tempered, madcap children would never settle down unless he interceded, stood up and raised his glass. In their family, when a glass is raised, silence descends.

Within a few seconds, the table was restive and quiet. “I have an announcement to make,” said D’Arcy, looking grave. “Your mother and I have decided that, at long last, we shall go and see the wonders of the old world. For all the joy we have had together, neither of us has ever been to Italy or Greece, and I have remedied that situation. In a fortnight, we shall depart from Dublin bound for Florence. From thence, we shall travel the length and breadth of Italy and then board ship from Naples, bound for Greece. This journey shall take us several months, and we shall be returning for Christmas.”

There was silence in the room. Nobody knew if it was good news or bad news because of the peculiar way D’Arcy had introduced it.

“They say that Rome is the city of echoes, the city of illusions, and the city of yearning,” said Cecily. “And I can’t wait to explore it.”

“We are certainly happy for you,” Diana said. “By Christmas we shall then hear of your great voyage when we gather together once more.”

“But you all must promise to behave while we’re gone,” Cecily said as D’Arcy placed his arm around her.

“Of course,” Fiona said with a smile, causing them all to chuckle.

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Two Months Later

“Have you always been the sort of person who thinks this much?” Charlotte sounded resigned, perhaps a tad bit frustrated. It brought a smile to Louisa’s face because it was something rarely seen—and something she reveled in trying to bring out of her.

“Only when it concerns a certain person and you know it,” Louisa said by way of response.

Tereza froze in the motion of lifting her teacup to her lips, grimacing. “Goodness, I thought I had escaped hearing about love and such with Selina. Must I come here to be faced with that too?”

“Don’t mind her, Louisa,” Selina said, rather calmly. She nibbled on the end of a crumpet. “She is only jealous.”

“Yes, I am, and I have not denied it.” Tereza sighed. “I cannot wait for my own debut.”

Louisa and Charlotte laughed at that. Louisa had invited her sisters over to have tea with her while Jerome was away on a business trip and the moment they walked through the doors; they’d fallen into their usual practice despite the time they’d been apart. Louisa was happy for the company. She missed having her sisters with her, but, above all, she was happy she could suggest her ideas to them.

“Well, then what do you think about this?” Tereza said. Sunlight pouring in from the open window in the drawing room made her hair glow. “Why not have the physician tell him the good news while you are present? I am certain that will shock him.”

“Any way she does it, Tereza,” Charlotte said, “it will shock him. Jerome will be learning that his wife is with child, after all. What Louisa is looking for is the perfect way to shock him.”

Tereza sighed. “This sounds like far too difficult a discussion for me to partake in.”

“Yes, perhaps you should remain silent for this one,” Selina said, raising her chin. She gave her sisters a triumphant smile. “After all, when it concerns matters of the heart, I know best.”

“Do you now?” Louisa asked, raising her brow.

“Certainly! It takes a hopeless romantic such as myself to be able to think of such ideas.” Louisa and Charlotte shared a look before Louisa gestured for Selina to go ahead. Selina sat up a bit straighter with an eager smile. “It is perfect, Louisa! All you need to do is hire a bard to sing the news to him!”

“Sing?” Charlotte echoed before she descended into a fit of giggles, Tereza joining her without remorse.

Selina’s cheeks went red. “Do you not think it is a marvelous idea?” she asked Louisa. “It is quite romantic being serenaded to; I shall have you aware!”

“Perhaps it is,” Louisa responded with a nod, holding back her own laughter as much as she could to speak. “And perhaps one day, you will have a bard serenade your own husband when you are with child. But I do not think that option shall remain open for me.”

Selina sighed. “I am not so dramatic as you are to think up elaborate news to tell a man he will be a father.”

Louisa knew she was acting quite out of sorts, but she didn’t care. When it came on to Jerome, she hardly acted her usual self and she was willing to explore every bit of that side of her if it meant making him happy. “Jerome, though he will not admit it, longs for a son. Perhaps not so soon, but I am sure he wants on one day. Considering his father hopes to have an heir born for the Dukedom, I think it is quite fitting for me to be a little dramatic in letting him know the good news.”

“Letting me know what good news?”

With a gasp, Louisa shot out of her seat, whirling to face the door just as Jerome strolled in. He looked at the King sisters in surprise. “Ah, forgive me,” he said. “I did not know there were guests.”

“Jerome!” Louisa stepped out to greet him. “I didn’t think you would be returning so soon. How much did you hear me say?”

“Only the last bit.” He frowned, looking from Louisa to her sisters—who had all gone silent and were looking anywhere but at him. “I take it I am the one who will receive this good news. What is it about?”

“Oh, heavens, couldn’t you have delayed your return for a few hours?” she chided gently.

“And here I believe you would have been happy to have me return so soon.” Jerome tiled his head to the side, studying her face. “What is it, Louisa?”

“I…” Louisa glanced at her sisters and saw them urging her on. She faced Jerome again, taking both his hands in hers. She gazed into his hazel eyes, feeling her love spread throughout her. She’d missed him dearly and, had she been prepared for his return, she might have thrown herself into his arms once he walked in through the door. But standing here with him, even with her sisters looking on, was enough for her. “I am with child.”

Jerome’s brows lifted slightly at that, as if he hadn’t heard. And then he frowned. “Are you certain?” he asked.

“Unless Mr. Wilmott is not quite as proficient as he says and my sickness in the mornings are due to some other ailment.” She grinned broadly, squeezing his hands. “We will have a child, Jerome!”

Jerome crushed her against him, wrapping her in a tight hug. Louisa hugged him back. His reaction was all she needed, she realized. Had she been dramatic in her reveal or not, seeing him so happy was all that mattered.

“God, I’m so happy!” he exclaimed and then he pulled away, and then pressed his lips against her in a heated kiss. Louisa broke away, breathless. “Jerome! Do you forget that we are not alone?”

“I haven’t,” he said with a careless grin. “So, you’d better tell them to avert their eyes if they do not want to see us kiss again.”

Before she had the chance to say anything, Jerome delivered the kiss. He slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. It was softer this time, but it lacked none of the heat from before. By the time they broke it, Louisa no longer cared that her sisters were in the room either.

“I missed you,” he murmured to her, resting his forehead against her. He seemed unwilling to let her go just yet and Louisa was content to remain in his arms.

“As did I,” she murmured back.

Jerome slid a hand over her stomach. “I cannot believe this. I’ve returned to find that my wife will bear my child. Surely, I have all the luck in the world.”

“No, it is I that was lucky enough to have found such a wonderful husband,” she responded with a smile.

“Do you think they remember we are still here?” Louisa heard Tereza whisper, followed by Charlotte quick shushing.

“Oh, do you think I will find love like that one day?” Selina sighed. “I can hardly wait.”

Louisa smiled, but she didn’t turn to face them. For now, she wanted to remain in her husband’s arms, where felt like she truly belonged. Just as he’d made her feel safe and comfortable, so too would he make their child love him. He would be a lovely father and Louisa couldn’t wait to have that new beginning with him.

“I think it is that time of the week where I tell you I love you,” she whispered to him.

“Is that so?” he whispered back. “I am almost certain you told me that last night, but I will gladly accept another.”

“You should, because I plan on saying it again. I love you, Jerome, and I always will.”

She said it again that night, the words ringing truer than ever. I love you, and I always will.

If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…

Selina had sworn to give herself only to love, but rakish Lord Caney is the magnet she cannot pull away from. Now, she finds herself in a rather compromising situation with him and marriage is the only way. But caring for her libertine husband who teaches her the pleasures of the marital bed, entails great danger. Because there are things about him that she is not aware of. Can love grow where secrets have been planted? Or is it just betrayal that will bloom in the end?

Seduced by the Brazen Baron