“Oh, no, my sweetheart. We both win.” Proclamation delivered, Richard lowered his mouth to claim his wife’s sweet lips, kissing her with such passion and desire that he swore he could hear her toes curl.
Epilogue
December, two years later
Richard stood with his back to the window of the drawing room at Highgrove Manor and watched with a concerned eye as his heavily pregnant wife paced back and forth.
“Blasted trains. Why can’t they ever run on time?” Juliet muttered as she gestured toward the mantel clock. “It’s already half past four. At this rate, Edward and George will be lucky to make it home by midnight.”
“Juliet, please sit down,” Richard insisted, trying to keep the dictatorial tone that she disliked out of his voice. “You know the doctor advised against any strenuous activity.”
“Walking is not strenuous,” Juliet replied, turning to resume her pacing.
“It is if you do it for more than an hour,” Richard snapped, repositioning himself so she could not see out the window. “I swear, you are wearing a hole in the carpet waiting for that boy to arrive.”
“Edward has been at school for nearly four months,” Juliet bristled. “And I have not been able to visit him once in all that time. Of course I’m anxious for him to get here.”
She tossed her head indignantly, but Richard noticed her eyes misting over and he felt a stab of guilt. Though assured by the doctor that excessive emotion was normal for a woman in her condition, it always rattled him to see Juliet in distress.
Tentatively, he put his arms around her. After a few stiff moments, she hugged him back. “Hush, now, sweetheart,” he said calmly. “They’ll be here soon.”
He stroked his hand softly over the large mound of her stomach and was answered with a vigorous kick. It was reassuring, yet at the same time Richard knew he wouldn’t fully relax until Juliet was safely delivered of their child. But that was at least five weeks away, the doctor had predicted.
Lady Moffat, the former Miss Olivia Hardie, looked up from the needlepoint she was stitching. “Richard is being overprotective, as he is wont to do when it comes to those he loves. Yet it might be a good idea to rest for a bit, Juliet. Shall I ring for tea?”
“I’m too excited to drink it,” Juliet confessed, clasping a hand over her swollen belly as she slowly descended onto the sofa. “It was kind of George to volunteer to bring Edward home. I vow I’d be worried ten times over if Edward were on his own.”
Olivia smiled. “George was happy to be of service, especially since he knew Richard would never leave you for any length of time.”
“Have you looked out the window?” James bounded into the room, Lizzy practically on his heels. “It’s snowing.”
“Will you take us sledding, Papa?” Lizzy asked.
“Snow?” Juliet’s face tightened.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Richard hastily assured her. “It’s just a few flakes.”
He gazed out at the snow-shrouded courtyard, wincing at the lie. Big, soft flakes swirling in the wind were caught in the golden beam of the lanterns lighting the drive. He had noticed the snow starting an hour ago, but intentionally kept the discovery from Juliet.
The feathery flakes had grown thicker by the minute, and the snow was now coming down in earnest. Richard knew travel was growing more and more treacherous; George and Edward would soon be moving through a blinding curtain of white. Provided the train had even reached the station.
Two observations he decided to keep to himself.
Juliet gazed at him broodingly. Richard disliked intensely the feeling of helplessness that overcame him, but honestly, what could he do about the weather?
“Perhaps we should listen to some Christmas carols to pass the time,” Olivia suggested. “Lizzy told me she has been practicing several on the pianoforte.”
Ever anxious to be the center of attention, Lizzy preened with delight and sat on the bench in front of the instrument. She was far more enthusiastic than skilled, but her rudimentary efforts provided a distraction and helped to ease a bit of the tension in the room.
The holiday songs led naturally into a discussion of the various Christmas plans, scaled back this year owing to Juliet’s condition. It was a subject that normally improved Juliet’s mood, but her vague answers proved how much her mind had once again drifted to Edward.
Richard was about to admit he had run out of things to say and questions to ask when James cried out, “I can see the coach coming up the drive!”
In an instant everyone was on their feet, rushing to the front hall. Richard positioned himself beside his wife, ever mindful that with her center of gravity shifting, her balance was not always the best.
James and Lizzy opened the front door together and George and Edward swooped into the hall. Snowflakes whirled around them like confetti before the door was closed tight, shutting out the elements. With a laugh, Edward turned down the collar of his coat and brushed the melting snowflakes from his hair.
“We’re here!” he announced.
“At last!” Juliet catapulted herself toward her son. Edward gave a comical wince but allowed his mother to hug and fuss. Until his brother and sister started teasing him.
“Quiet, you two,” Richard admonished, shooing them away playfully. They giggled, ran away, then came back for more.
“Is no one happy to see me?” George whined mockingly.
“I am.” Olivia gave her husband a quick kiss, then turned to greet Edward, but George snatched her hand and drew her back to give her a very thorough kiss.
Richard smiled. There had been many changes in the last two years, but none more spectacular than George’s wholehearted embrace of matrimony. His devotion to his wife was nothing short of miraculous and something Richard knew he never would have understood if not for his own feelings toward Juliet.
True, Richard’s marriage had brought chaos to his well-ordered life, but it had also brought love and joy and warmth and laughter. Things he had told himself repeatedly that he did not need. But she had proved him wrong. And so had the children.
“You wrote and told me there would be smaller numbers this year, but I was wondering if Uncle Horace and Aunt Mildred will be coming for Christmas?” Edward asked as they huddled around the drawing room fire.
“Of course,” Richard answered heartily. “Not everyone will join us this year, but there are certain members of the family that had to be included.”
“Besides, without Uncle Horace around, who will help Cook and Mrs. Perkins decorate all the gingerbread cookies?” Juliet asked with a playful twitch of her brow.
“You mean eat them,” Edward said with a grin.
“Well, yes, of course. That, too, is very much a part of our family holiday tradition.” Juliet hugged Edward again, then reached out to pull James and Lizzy close. Her eyes teared and overflowed, though her mouth smiled and there was an unmistakable shadow of joy on her face.
The sight touched Richard in ways he still couldn’t fully explain—yet he was grateful he felt the emotions, was humbled by their existence.
“You’re squashing me, Mama,” James protested.
“Me, too,” Lizzy said.
“And me,” Edward agreed. “But I don’t mind.”
With a deep chuckle, Richard caught Juliet’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to her fingers. “Happy?”
“Perfectly.” She released the squirming children and stepped into the circle of his waiting arms. “Edward is home safe and sound, we are all together, and we have two weeks to prepare for the holiday celebration.”
The sight of her happiness made Richard’s heart thud, the love inside him feeling almost painfully strong. “Well, my dear, once again I find that I am about to say the words I never thought I would utter.”
“Oh?”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes, his own alight with mischief. “I can hardly wait for Christmas.”
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Tis the Season to Be Sinful Page 28
