Porthlowen
Christmas 1815
Carrie heard excited voices as she and Jacob approached the Trelawney family’s favorite parlor at Cothaire. She paused in the doorway and drank in the wondrous sight.
The fire on the hearth flickered on the faces gathered there. In the very center of the family, Carrie’s father sat with three children balanced on his two knees. The twins, Lucy and Molly, straddled one knee as if atop a pony. On the earl’s other one, Toby perched proudly. Bertie sat on the floor at the foot of the man he called “Grandfather.” He held a block out to Ada, who then offered it to her mother.
Elisabeth took it and smiled. “Very pretty.” She handed it to her daughter who had inherited her ruddy hair color. “Like you, pumpkin.” She was rewarded with a big grin.
Susanna sat with her husband, Drake, each of them trying to keep a naughty two-year-old boy from getting down and stealing the blocks. What a surprise it had been when the Nesbitt household was blessed with another set of twins! Tristan’s and Marcus’s big sisters helped them think of mischief, even though, as Carrie had seen, they did not need much assistance. Her brother stood behind his wife’s chair. Maris was growing round with their child. Since the war with France had ended, both Arthur and his wife had seemed more at ease. The family understood why when he admitted that he had served as a courier for a spy network that stretched from the Continent to Whitehall. So many of Carrie’s questions about the odd hours her brother had kept were answered with that explanation. His journeys now were solely for estate business.
A puff of cold air made the fire flicker when Carrie and Jacob entered the parlor, followed by Gil and Joy. Everyone greeted everyone else at once. Calls of “Happy Christmas” echoed through the room. Gil’s voice rose over everyone else’s as he bragged about having his first tooth loose.
“Let me tell you. We have learned it is much easier when those teeth are coming out than coming in,” Jacob said as he patted his son on the head.
“Enough!” said the earl with mock sternness. “I have waited long enough.” He held out his hands. “Where’s my present?”
Carrie leaned forward and drew aside the blanket on the bundle she carried to reveal tiny lips tasting the air. While Jacob gave her the special smile he saved for her, she placed the baby in her father’s arms.
“Here he is. Reginald Maurice Warrick.” She let her family admire its newest addition. She remained in awe of the blessing she and Jacob had received. Both of them had been astonished when she discovered she was pregnant. Astonished and filled with elation.
“What a handsome lad,” the earl said.
“He gets his good looks from his mother.” Jacob winked at her, and she felt her heart melt as it had the very first time he had gazed into her eyes.
Gil sidled over to stand by her father’s chair. Standing on tiptoe, he gazed with love at his brother’s face. He raised his eyes, looked around at everyone there, and said in his most solemn tone, “My baby!”
Everyone laughed, and Carrie put her arms around Jacob as he held her close. He pulled her over to stand beneath some mistletoe by the garden doors. When he bent to give her a kiss, she halted him and slid his spectacles up his nose. Their laughter flowed together as their lips met in joy.
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