The Aristocrat

by Penelope Ward

  Mum was still fairly close to my ex-wife, which I knew made Felicity a bit uncomfortable—not because she had anything against Darcie, but because my mother’s relationship with my ex was stronger than with her. Technically, under the peerage rules, both Darcie and Felicity were allowed the title of Duchess of Westfordshire, although Felicity still couldn’t get used to it. She’d smile awkwardly with a hint of a grimace anytime anyone called her “Your Grace.” But she handled it with grace, in any case.

  As for Darcie, she had recently reconnected with her former lover, Gabriel Davies, who himself was now divorced. He confessed that he’d always regretted ending things with her and wanted a second chance. Given that she’d still had lingering feelings for him when we first got together, one might say everything ended up the way it was meant to.

  After lunch, we all moved to the dining room and gathered around Eloise as she blew out the candles on her Hello Kitty cake. (Her mum had a tiny bit of influence on that choice.) My daughter squealed in joy and clapped along with us as we applauded her. She loved attention. In that sense, she wasn’t anything like her mother.

  After the cake time was over, I looked at Felicity, and she nodded, giving me the go-ahead.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “So, we have some news.” I took her hand.

  My mother placed her teacup down. “Oh?”

  I took a deep breath in. “We’re having another baby.”

  Mum’s mouth dropped, and I knew what she was thinking: Please God, let it be a boy.

  Before she could get her hopes up too much, I announced, “And it’s a girl.”

  I paused to allow my mother a moment. My entire existence for so long had been about producing a male heir to carry on the Covington name. I’d come to terms with the fact that it might never happen. It didn’t matter to me, although I knew it had mattered to my father. I tried to hold on to the advice Nan had given me—that wherever my father was now, he saw things from a different perspective and understood what truly mattered. Carrying on one’s family name for vanity’s sake ultimately wasn’t the purpose of life.

  “You found out already?” my mother asked.

  “Yes,” Felicity said. “We had an ultrasound. I’m actually about four months along, but we wanted to wait until we were sure everything looked okay before we announced it.”

  Sigmund came around to our side of the table and offered us each a hug. “Congratulations, guys.”

  When he returned to his seat, Felicity and I once again glanced at each other.

  “I’ll tell him,” she whispered. “We were thinking about naming her Britney.” She paused. “If that’s okay with you, Sig. We wouldn’t want to upset you in any way. We only want to honor her if it would bring you joy and not sadness.”

  My cousin sat speechless. Then his eyes began to glisten. He stood from his chair. “Excuse me a moment.”

  The only time I’d ever seen him cry was right after his wife died. But I suspected he was doing that very thing right now in the bathroom.

  Felicity looked a bit panicked. And honestly, I wondered whether we’d made a mistake.

  Even my stone-cold mother looked as if she were about to cry.

  I knew time hadn’t really healed his wounds. I wondered whether he’d be able to give his heart to anyone else in this lifetime. Maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe we only get one great love. I knew if something were to happen to Felicity, I could never love another person the same way, and no one would ever replace her. Why would Sigmund be any different?

  That reminded me of something I’d once told Felicity, back when we first met: “a connection between two people is no less valuable if cut short by circumstances.” Perhaps Sigmund and Britney were the greatest example of that.

  My cousin finally emerged, and while his eyes were a bit red, there wasn’t a tear in sight.

  He smiled. “Thank you for wanting to name your daughter after her. Despite what my nearly losing it might imply, there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier.”

  Felicity placed her hand on his arm. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I can’t wait to tell her parents.” He grinned. “And if the doctors were wrong and it turns out you’re having a boy, I fully expect you to name him Sigmund.”

  Everyone burst into laughter.

  If the Covington name ended with me, so be it. I’d die a happy man, surrounded by my beautiful, redheaded angels. Or perhaps my daughters would go against the guard and refuse to change their names, remaining Covingtons after all.

  So much had changed over the past nine years since Felicity Dunleavy first came over for tea. My life had turned out nothing like I’d envisioned it, and that was a damn good thing. Sure, I’d made mistakes. People had been hurt along the way, myself included. But amidst the pain of heartbreak, separation, and sadness, I’d learned firsthand what Nan had told me about love before she died.

  The purpose of life is to love with all of your heart and soul. No matter when the end of my days came, I would be able to say I’d done just that. My daughters would know their father loved them. And that would be my legacy.

  Dear Readers,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading The Aristocrat! I’d love to stay in touch and invite you to join my mailing list and receive back a NEW, FREE short story.

  For a Good Time Call

  Ever see For a good time call scribbled on the bathroom wall of a bar? Sure you have. Ever wonder what would happen if you had a few too many drinks and actually called the number? Well now you don’t have to wonder anymore, because I’ll tell you… It blows up in your face when you suddenly realize who Mr. Good Time is.

  * * *

  The Anti-Boyfriend

  RoomHate

  The Day He Came Back

  The Crush

  Just One Year

  When August Ends

  Love Online

  Gentleman Nine

  Drunk Dial

  Mack Daddy

  Stepbrother Dearest

  Neighbor Dearest

  Jaded and Tyed (A novelette)

  Sins of Sevin

  Jake Undone (Jake #1)

  Jake Understood (Jake #2)

  My Skylar

  Gemini

  Park Avenue Player (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Stuck-Up Suit (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Cocky Bastard (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  British Bedmate (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Playboy Pilot (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Mister Moneybags (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Rebel Heir (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Rebel Heart (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Hate Notes (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Dirty Letters (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  My Favorite Souvenir (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Happily Letter After (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  Not Pretending Anymore (co-written with Vi Keeland)

  * * *

  The acknowledgements are always the hardest part of the book to write. There are simply too many people that contribute to the success of a book, and it’s impossible to properly thank each and every one.

  First and foremost, I need to thank the readers all over the world who continue to support and promote my books. Your support and encouragement are my reasons for continuing this journey. And to all of the book bloggers who work tirelessly to support me book after book, please know how much I appreciate you.

  To Vi – You’re the best friend and partner in crime that I could ask for. Without you as a sounding board, I would undoubtedly have gone crazy a long time ago. Well, crazier. ;-) I’m a lucky girl!

  To Julie – Thank you for your friendship and for always inspiring me with your amazing writing, outlook, and for always being just a click away.

  To Luna –Thank you for your love and support, day in and day out. You continue to be an inspiration in showing me that anything is possible if you put your mind to it.
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br />   To Erika – It will always be an E thing. I am so thankful for your love, humor and summer visits. Thank you for always brightening my days with your messages of encouragement.

  To Cheri – An amazing friend and supporter. Thanks for always looking out for me and never forgetting a Wednesday. Can’t wait to hopefully see you this year!

  To Darlene – I am so grateful to have met you, and it has nothing to do with the delicious Medjool dates you send me, but rather your valued friendship.

  To my Facebook reader group, Penelope’s Peeps – I adore you all. You are my home and favorite place to be.

  To my agent extraordinaire, Kimberly Brower –Thank you for everything you do and for getting my books out into the world.

  To my editor Jessica Royer Ocken – It’s always a pleasure working with you. I look forward to many more experiences to come.

  To Elaine of Allusion Publishing – Thank you for being the best proofreader, formatter, and friend a girl could ask for.

  To Julia Griffis of The Romance Bibliophile – Your eagle eye is amazing. Thank you for being so wonderful to work with.

  To my assistant Brooke – Thank you for hard work in handling all of the things Vi and I can’t seem to ever get to. We appreciate you so much!

  To Kylie and Jo at Give Me Books – You guys are truly the best out there! Thank you for your tireless promotional work. I would be lost without you.

  To Letitia Hasser of RBA Designs – My awesome cover designer. Thank you for always working with me until the finished product exactly perfect.

  To my husband – Thank you for always taking on so much more than you should have to so that I am able to write. I love you so much.

  To the best parents in the world – I’m so lucky to have you! Thank you for everything you have ever done for me and for always being there.

  Last but not least, to my daughter and son – Mommy loves you. You are my motivation and inspiration!

  * * *

  Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author.

  She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son and beautiful daughter with autism.

  With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels.

  Penelope’s books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

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