Quincy raised his head from the map he had spread out on his father’s desk and looked out the window to the sea beyond. He took in the vast blue sky and the undulating waves with a happy sigh, contentment curling in his belly. They had been back for a month, but he was more than willing to stay just where he was for a good long while. There would be time to set sail again. After.
Just then a commotion could be heard from below. He smiled at the familiar, beloved sound, his gaze unerringly searching for and finding Clara. She was making her way back to the house through the lovingly restored gardens of Swallowhill, no doubt from an excursion to the greenhouse. She spent much of her time there, tending the plants they had brought back from their travels. It had been nearly a decade since they’d first set sail after their hasty wedding, and in that time she had accrued quite a collection. Most notably, the two imps at her side.
His gaze softened as he looked down on his children. Young Frederick, named for Clara’s father, was tall for eight, nearly reaching his mother’s shoulder. He walked at Lenora’s side, his gaze steady on her as she related something or other to him. In his arms was a small gray bundle, a young rabbit he had found and was mending back to health, the latest in his growing menagerie. And then there was Willa.
At six she fairly ruled them all, with her black hair and mischievous smile. Clara was known to moan that she was so like Quincy she feared for her sanity once the girl reached adulthood, accompanied by a fond look for them both. Right now, Willa was dancing among the flowers, singing and bending to pick up a rock, a leaf, and whatever else might strike her fancy.
Clara looked up and spied him. She grinned and spoke to the children, and soon they were all waving their arms, their bright smiles in the early-afternoon sunlight making his heart expand in his chest. He remembered that long-ago day when he and Clara had stood poised at the beginning of their life together—how it felt as if he could not hold a bit more love in him.
Yet that had been proven wrong, for day in and day out he loved her and their children more and more.
She spoke to them again, and was soon leaving them to play in the fresh air while she walked toward the house. He heard the door opening and closing, and her step on the stairs. Anticipation raced through his veins. And then she was in the doorway.
“Quincy,” she murmured.
In two long strides he reached her and she was in his arms. Her lips were sweet and eager, and he felt he could stand there forever kissing her and be utterly happy.
Until a nudge in his belly made him realize that was an impossibility.
He pulled back, grinning ruefully down at her stomach. “Madam, I do believe our daughter is going to be as precocious as her older sister when she arrives.”
“Lord save me,” Clara said with a happy laugh, her hands lovingly drifting over her swollen belly. “But it could be a son, you know.”
“Please, woman,” he scoffed with mock outrage. “Have I ever been wrong?”
“No,” she grumbled with obvious reluctance.
He laughed, and together they walked to the large window overlooking the garden. The children were on the ground, playing with the rabbit, Frederick as ever watchful over his sister. Clara smiled happily, then looked to the map on the desk. She ran her fingers over it, tracing the routes and notes they had made over the years, before giving his father’s worn book, lying close by, a loving pat.
“And have you decided where you would like to go on our next adventure? The children are eager to visit Greece, but I’ve a mind to stay closer to home.”
“I think closer to home is just the thing,” Quincy said, laying a gentle hand over the swell of his wife’s stomach. “What say you to an extended stay on the Isle?”
“I would like that very much,” she murmured, covering his hand with her own. “Though are you certain you’ll be happy staying still for so long? Life may get dull after a time.”
“Ah, my love,” he said, laughing, pulling her close, “our family is the best adventure I could have asked for.”