Epilogue

Two years later

The Marquess of Kerrick was in the habit of spitting up right after his nap, but Julia knew she couldn’t hold it against him. After all, the marquess was a mere year old today and was quite beautifully behaved for someone that age.

Julia held her son as she stood in the back gardens of Lynton Park, watching the other children frolicking. Felicity was overjoyed by Daphne and Joseph, Laura’s twin children, and the dear little toddlers loved to caper after the older girl. They fell down in the mud an awful lot, but thankfully the Weatherfords believed that dirt created character.

“You should be walking soon,” Julia said to her son. Arthur beamed gummily up at her and gave a happy shriek. He also wriggled in her arms; he was a first-rate wriggler. “You’ll be difficult to catch, I can tell.”

“I’ll have to tie a bell around him,” Miss Winslow said, laughing as she approached. “There was a rambunctious cat at my old school who wore one. It helped to keep track of all the mischief he got into.”

“Comparing the next Duke of Ashworth to a troublesome feline?” Julia thought about it. “Given his parentage, that’s fair.”

Miss Winslow took a turn with the infant, gazing at him with sheer delight. Having another child around meant the governess would still be with them for a good while, which Julia appreciated. While her son and heir babbled and blew spit bubbles, Julia went to see to the party.

Laura and her twins had come, as had Susannah, Percy, and the Duke of Huntington. Even Constance was here, seated beneath a tree and watching the festivities with an only slightly judgmental eye. For her, it was a stark improvement. Since the near disaster with Lucas Campbell, Constance had sheepishly acknowledged that Julia had been right. She might even have apologized, at least somewhat. Perhaps Julia and her stepmother would never be the best of friends, but at least the animosity between them had ceased. Mostly. Constance and Laura sat and watched as Susannah, Percy, and Huntington engaged in a spirited game of lawn bowling.

“Who’s winning?” Julia asked as she approached.

“I wouldn’t have believed it, but Miss Fletcher has stomped all over the pair of us,” Percy said.

“I’m not shocked by it at all,” Huntington laughed. “Miss Fletcher has an admirable form.”

“Oh, it’s only because I’ve had practice.” Susannah’s cheeks were full of color, and her eyes sparkled as she bowled another excellent point. Julia joined the men in applause.

Susannah had spent much of the past two years at Lynton Park. While Constance would not allow the girl to travel to the Continent for further musical training, Julia had hired a tutor from one of the most esteemed schools in Vienna. The Park had resounded with music daily for much of the last two years, and Susannah had become a true proficient. The tutor, a Herr Gruber, told Julia that Susannah showed a spark of genius.

A spark that, Julia noted, the Duke of Huntington had begun to appreciate. The past few days he’d been at Lynton Park, he’d spent a great deal of time speaking and laughing with Susannah, and appreciating her playing.

Constance would be only too delighted by such a development. Indeed, she seemed to be watching the pair of them with hawklike curiosity now. Hopefully, she wouldn’t swoop.

“Do finish up your game soon. The host will be back momentarily, and then the picnic can truly commence,” Julia said, fighting back laughter.

Julia left the partygoers and walked over to Miss Winslow in order to collect her son. Who should she find with the governess, Arthur already in hand, but Gregory himself?

“Your timing’s impeccable.” Julia was secretly glad when Miss Winslow went to fetch Felicity. She craved every moment she could get alone with her husband. The past two years, every day had been a delight, every evening a paradise. Nothing gladdened Julia’s heart, though, like the sight of Gregory holding their son.

When she’d become pregnant, the duke had been afraid that he would prove to be a terrible father as his own had been. But he needn’t have worried, because her husband was as natural a father as he was a husband. In Julia’s eyes, he was damn near perfect.

“Timing is an important skill.” Gregory kissed Arthur’s head and returned the boy to his mother. The child had fallen into a sound sleep. “A skill this one should learn. To fall asleep at his own birthday party? The height of rudeness.”

Gregory’s teasing words stopped when her lips met his. Every time Julia kissed or embraced her husband, the world around them seemed to fall silent. Only Arthur’s sleepy squirming as he awoke could break the spell.

“He’s a good little chap, isn’t he?” Gregory pinched the baby’s cheek.

“Like his father.” Julia smiled.

“Ah, but willful like his mother. I’d have it no other way.”

“I believe we make splendid parents, don’t you?”

“I’ll never miss out on an opportunity to praise myself. Or you.” Gregory kissed her once more, causing Julia’s toes to curl within her slippers. The man was delectable.

“Then you shouldn’t mind doing this all over again?” she asked slyly. It took Gregory a moment to work out her meaning.

“Julia.” His eyes seemed to glow with excitement. “Are you…?”

“Three months along. The doctor called yesterday when you were out.” Julia knew it was too early to feel the baby kicking or doing anything, but she still took Gregory’s hand and placed it upon her stomach. He stared at her like a man caught in a dream. “Which would you prefer? Girl or boy?”

“I’d like to order one of each.”

“I’m afraid that much is out of my hands.”

“Then a girl. One who’ll shake this whole place up a bit, much like her mother.”

Arthur blew a raspberry, seeming to happily concur with the idea.

“Most men wouldn’t wish for a troublesome female, my love.” Julia walked toward the party with her husband and son, Gregory’s arm around her waist.

“Most men are idiots,” the duke growled. His lips found her neck for one scintillating instant. “A troublesome woman makes for a happy home.”

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