Blackhaven Castle
Christmas Eve 1813
‘Let’s call her Eve,’ Trey said as his daughter was wrapped in soft blankets, her face red with the energy required for birth as she gave a loud and lusty cry. Small tufts of pale hair sprouted from her head, curling in whorls of moisture.
‘Eve Elizabeth Stanford,’ Seraphina returned and held the baby to her breast, her dark eyes the exact same copy of her father’s.
A year since Trey had asked her to marry him, nine months since she had fallen pregnant and six since the debacle of Ralph Bonnington had been thrown out of a London court.
‘The boys were hoping for a sister. They have said it time and time again.’
‘And you, my love. What did you hope for?’ She reached for her husband’s hand, liking the way his fingers wound around her own as they always did.
‘That you would deliver safely, that was all I wanted. But a daughter…’ She saw his eyes fasten on the rosebud lips and the flaxen hair. ‘Now a daughter such as this one is likely to run me ragged when she is older.’ He stopped and began to laugh.
‘When you came to Blackhaven in the eye of a storm, I thought that the boys would eat you up for breakfast, but they did not. You were the one who changed us instead and made us a family again. Six now,’ he added and bent down to lay a kiss on the forehead of his daughter before his lips came to her own.
‘Ahh, Seraphina, if you had not come…’
She shushed him. ‘I would have found you somehow.’
‘I believe that you would have, my darling.’ The darkness that had cloaked him was gone now, his velvet eyes raking across her face in love.
‘Are you ready for the others? They have been waiting most impatiently outside.’
‘Of course.’
He opened the door to their chamber and a flood of happy excited people streamed through. The boys came first, subdued a little in the unfamiliar face of birth, then came Margaret and Gordon with their many grown-up children, Melusine barking at their feet. Mrs Thomas had returned as well, her help with the birth invaluable, and bringing up the rear came three local women with whom Seraphina had become firm friends.
A life, she thought, as all looked at the newest Stanford. Connections and community. Outside the world was white and the wind hurled itself headlong against the castle.
Aye, Christmas indeed was the season of miracle and surprise….