“You have delighted us long enough.”
—Pride and Prejudice
AS the last few notes of a concerto died away in the air of the room, the gleeful laughter and clapping of two young children could be heard.
“All right, my loves, your father has favored you with not one but three pieces of music, and it is long past your bedtime,” Charlotte said, looking up from a letter in her hands.
“But Mama, Father promised us a story too,” said a little girl of six, with the same dark looks and emerald eyes of her father.
“And I’m starving. Nanny promised to bring me an apple and cheese,” wailed the younger brother, whose countenance matched his mother’s.
Nicholas looked at the happy scene before him. “Now Solange and Richard, your delaying tactics are well known to us. But I suppose,” he paused when he saw the delighted smiles overspread their innocent faces, “we can have a brief, very brief reading lesson and story as we wait for Nanny.”
Nicholas walked the two children to the long table and began asking them the names of the old fired-clay letters he and Charlotte had formed so long ago in the cottage. He patiently corrected them when the sounds of the letters did not correspond with their shapes.
He glanced up to catch the loving, proud gaze of his wife. Their eyes met, and Nicholas was filled with the joy he had never dreamed would be his.
Nanny appeared at the doorway of the west salon, bearing the promised apples and cheese. The children rushed to her with the endless hunger of the very young.
“Dearest?” inquired Charlotte.
“Yes, my love?” He walked over to sit on the arm of her overstuffed armchair.
“Shall we invite Mr. and Mrs. Llewellyn for supper tomorrow night?”
“I think a visit with grandmamma and the vicar is very much in order, now that they have returned from Italy. It is a wonder she did not burst in on us this afternoon when they returned.”
Charlotte laughed. “I assume she has someone, a very special someone, who occupies her uppermost thoughts.”
“Ah, yes. The vicar. He is an old rogue, is he not? I suspect St. Peter will have many questions for him when he meets him at heaven’s gates. Knowing Mr. Llewellyn, he will charm him into acceptance,” Nicholas said, shaking his head.
Nicholas could see the happy glow of laughter in Charlotte’s large gray eyes. She still appeared to him as a girl of seventeen instead of five and thirty. “And we should have Mr. and Mrs. Roberts to celebrate the transfer of the brewery to him as he has worked devilishly hard.”
“Oh, I love impromptu parties! You must give Charley the pleasure of laying out your finery tomorrow. It is only proper, on his final night,” Charlotte said. “I am so glad you acceded to his request to apprentice with Mr. Babcock, here. I think he will make an admirable steward for one of the other properties in a very short time.”
Charlotte paused to brush a lock of his hair from his brow. Her touch brought the familiar wave of pleasure to him.
“I fear your stepmother, Edwin, and Susan would expire from shock at the idea of common folk invading the hallowed grounds of Wyndhurst Abbey.”
“Yes, well, I for one take comfort in knowing that we have provided the three of them enough fodder over the years to warm their conversations at every meal in the wilds of Yorkshire. But, I have been pleasantly surprised by their behavior since Edwin and Susan wed, although I suppose I should not be. Living so far removed, with her ten thousand a year, it would be next to impossible for them to overspend. In fact, I had thought to send them word that I would make good on my promise. Do you think the shock of an offer to use the house in Bath would be too much?”
A gurgle of laughter escaped her. “I don’t see why not.”
Nicholas reached down for the letter on his wife’s lap. “What does your cousin have to say for himself? Still showing Lady Sheffield the delights of Paris in the springtime?”
“No. I’m afraid he has wearied of that lady and of Paris. He talks of coming to visit us. Let’s see,” she said, looking at the letter. “He writes, ‘I shall bestow on you and your husband my presence if you can assure me that Edwin and Lady Susan will not make an untimely appearance. I should not want to have to disappear again for a year, although I cannot say my year in Biarritz and St. Jean de Luz was not well-spent.’ “
“I do believe, dearest, that you are not translating the last part very well. There seems to be a somewhat delicate reference to a certain lady and what he did to her anatomy. He may come as long as he does not contemplate any part of your anatomy.”
Charlotte smiled and folded the letter.
The two children piled into their mother and father’s laps. “Now, Father, you promised us the story,” said Solange, with the same commanding tone Nicholas used.
“Why, you know I cannot read, my sweet,” Nicholas said, looking into the serious expression of his daughter and mussing the top of her dark hair.
“That’s a great bouncer, Father. Now read our favorite story again, please,” begged his son with large gray eyes. “Yes, the one about the girl who saves the knight who is then saved in return,” Solange said, handing her father a storybook. “Ah, yes, A Passionate Endeavor, my favorite, too!” he said, smiling at Charlotte as he opened the book. The soft touch of Charlotte’s hand glided through his hair. He closed his eyes and felt her gentle kiss on his forehead. “Once upon a time…”
The End
~Bonus excerpt after the Author’s Note~