Two years later…

A ray of sunshine tickled Alexander’s nose, and he let out a sneeze so loud it almost shook the entire bed, sending him sitting upright. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Faith, we left the curtains open again,” he mumbled, but when he looked at the space, he saw it empty when he turned his attention to Lilian’s side of the bed. The outline of her head was still impressed upon the pillow, and her sheets rumpled at the foot of the bed. Alexander stretched out his hand and touched the mattress—it was warm to the touch. She’d just gotten up.

But where?

A sudden chill made him shiver, and he looked outside the window to see the branches of the ash tree heavy with snow. He slipped out of bed, but his toes curled up when he placed his feet on the floor.

“By Jove,” he muttered. The fire in the fireplace had gone out during the night. The servants were not in the habit of entering their chamber before they knew both he and Lilian had risen. They’d lived in their townhouse, a narrow, four-story home in Westminster, between their respective parents’ homes—for a little over six months now, thus making this their first winter here.

While they adored their home and the beautiful garden perfect for their frequent afternoon walks, they’d found it rather drafty in the cooler weather, never more so than today, when the first snow had fallen.

Alexander dashed across the cold floor to the desk, where he stopped to throw his banyan on as he tied it around his waist and was about to ring the bell for his valet to start the fire when his eyes settled on a note on his nightstand. He frowned and made his way there again, slipping his feet into the house shoes beneath the bed.

Then, he extracted the note from underneath the candle holder and saw Lilian had left him a message.

“Gone to see Adriana,” she’d written in her lovely handwriting. A small arrow had been drawn on the bottom, and he flicked the page, letting out a chuckle as he saw that she’d signed the letter with “This note was written by Lilian Russel, Marchioness of Sterling. Your wife.”

Ever since the debacle with the unsigned letter, she always made sure to sign her notes in this elaborate manner, and after two years, it had yet to lose its charm.

They folded the note and opened the second drawer on the nightstand, placing it within, along with the dozens of other notes. Unlike Lilian’s parents, they had decided to forgo the hiding of love notes around the house. Instead, they give them to one another and stored them on the nightstand.

Although so frequent was their habit of leaving messages for one another, they would soon need another drawer—her a bigger nightstand.

Alexander made his way down the hall and saw that the door at the end was open. He was about to burst through the door when he paused and marveled at the sight before him. Standing there, their three-month-old daughter in his arms, was Lilian.

She had her back to him; her eyes were cast toward the snowy garden below. And yet, she was a vision. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, having gotten thicker and lusher during her time with the child. Her nightgown, made of sensible cotton, swayed gently as she rocked their baby back and forth, and around her shoulders, he saw she had a large, navy-colored wool shawl.

He walked quietly so as not to wake Adriana and placed a hand on the small of her back. She turned, and her eyes widened with love.

“Darling, why are you awake? You got up twice to see to her in the night,” she gently scolded, her voice quiet so as not to wake her.

He peered down at his sleeping daughter. She was a perfect mixture of the two, with Alexander’s eyes and Lilian’s upturned nose and mouth. He still remembered when he’d first laid eyes on her after a long night spent fretting outside of the chamber in which Lilian had gone into confinement.

If not for John and his father, he might have gone out of his mind. However, with their aid—and that of several glasses of strong cognac—he’d persevered through the night. When morning broke and Lady Viola—now the Countess of Harenshire—beckoned him to enter, he felt the universe had smiled down upon him again.

Seeing his beloved Lilian with their newborn in her arms had been the most delightful view he’d ever seen, and it remained so to this day. The only moment that had exceeded it was when Lilian told him she’d found the perfect name for their firstborn—Adriana, after his brother.

“What is it?” she asked, suddenly worried. “You look as though you may cry.”

He shook his head. “I just thought back to Adriana’s birth,” he said. Of late, he’d been more prone to emotions, but they were controlled. No longer did he suffer from outbursts—or rather, very rarely. Becoming a husband and father had changed him, and for the better.

The same was true for John. While they remained prone to jesting and liked to tease each other and their wives, they were now responsible, aware of their power—and they both used it for good.

Alexander had learned more about Adrian’s plans to bring about changes for the poorest of the poor by way of passing laws in parliament. So, inspired by his brother and supported by his father and John, Alexander had set out to do just that once he and Lilian returned from their honeymoon.

While his project was still a work-in-progress, he found it fulfilling to carry on his brother’s legacy and do something good for others. One of the men who’d readily joined his plan was Lord Henry, whose father’s illness meant he would soon take his seat in the House of Lords.

They were not friends by any means, but they were related due to the marriage of Lady Viola’s cousin to Lord Henry. Distantly, but related anyhow.

“We must get ready,” Lilian said and looked at him.

“Get ready?” he blinked; the sudden change jarred him.

“The christening,” she reminded him, and he smiled.

“By Jove, yes. I almost forgot.”

They were due to attend St. Martin’s in the Field later that morning for the Christening of John and Viola’s first child, a little boy they’d named Robert, after John and Lilian’s father. After that, they were to spend the afternoon together at the home of John and Viola, which they shared with the dowager countess.

“In this weather, I think many people will be delayed,” Alexander said as he looked outside.

“Perhaps. But it is beautiful, do you not think so? It makes me think of the week we spent in the Swiss Alps on our honeymoon Grand Tour, do you recall?”

Alexander’s smile widened. “We spent most of it shut in our cabin due to the frigid cold.”

“Indeed.” She winked at him just as Adriana stirred in her arms. “Let me lay her down. The nurse will be here soon.”

While they pride themselves on taking care of their daughter without the aid of others—a stark departure from what was considered usual in their society—they did engage the help of a nurse when they had to be outside of their home—such as today.

Another such time came when Lilian undertook her weekly study group. She’d started a little gathering with the daughters of other high society ladies interested in exploring the world. It was a small group, with only five young ladies, but Lilian had inspired them all with her tales of their journey, so much so that several planned to embark on a Grand Tour of their own. If this would come to pass remained to be seen, Alexander knew it made Lilian happy to inspire other young women—even though she’d not had the chance to travel independently.

Not yet, anyhow. Lilian planned to take Viola on a journey to the vineyards of Shropshire when their daughter was old enough to be left alone, but that was several years in the future.

Lilian walked to the cot and placed Adriana back inside, covering her with two wool blankets to ensure she was not cold. The two looked down at their daughter, and then Alexander took Lilian’s hand.

As they walked back to their chamber, she beamed at him.

“I’ve not yet told you. I found a new snuffbox for your mother. Viola and I saw it at Camden in a shop. I purchased it and left it there to be engraved with Adriana’s name on the bottom. I thought we could place a lock of her hair inside for your mother.”

Alexander laughed. “I venture to say my mother has more boxes than she needs, but the idea is lovely.”

“I thought so as well. There is something rather special about the box, I dare say. It looks exactly like the one I placed my letter in.”

Alexander paused in the doorway of their chamber. They’d long tried to find a replica of the snuffbox he’d broken. While he’d managed to replace most of them with the help of his mother-in-law, they’d never been able to find the one that was most special to them all—the one Lilian had placed her letter inside. Until now.

“Are you quite certain?”

Lilian nodded. “I went inside and inspected it. I will have you know it was fortunate I arrived when I did and had it set aside because Lady Emma was there and almost bought it right out from under me.”

He rolled his eyes. Lady Emma, now nearing thirty, had married the previous year. As expected, she’d held out for a rather illustrious match and married an Italian count, a friend of the Prince Regent. They resided in London, and he had the questionable pleasure of her company more often than he liked as the lady and her husband frequented many of the same social functions he and Lilian did.

“I am certain she was quite upset when you did.”

Lilian chuckled. “I think so. She’s never forgiven me for snatching you away from her.”

“I think my ungentlemanly behavior rather disillusioned her,” he replied with a wince.

“Well, it all worked out for the best, especially for me,” Lilian replied and stepped into the chamber. She rubbed her arms and shuddered. “I will say, I am not looking forward to dressing. It is frightfully cold.”

“I agree,” Alexander said and drew her into his arms. “I have an idea that might warm us, at least for a while.”

Lilian tippled her head to one side and smirked. “I think your idea might require us to have less clothing on, resulting in us being colder than we are now.”

He clicked his tongue. “Faith, Lady Sterling, you have a rather sordid mind. No, my idea involved something rather more wholesome.” He nodded his head toward the bed. “The bed might still be warm, and I think if we cuddle up to one another, she shall warm up in no time. What do you?”

Lilian looked from the bed to Alexander and back again, and then she raced to the bed and crawled under the blanket, holding it up for him to join.

Alexander pulled the covers over them, pulled Lilian closer, and placed his lips on hers, drawing her in. When she returned his kiss and they huddled under the blanket, a warmth spread over Alexander from outside and from within.

For this, he knew, was where he was meant to be. With her. Both in this moment, and in this life. Together, and in unity surrounded by love, and happiness. Forever.

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