A Lady’s Colorful Enigma – Extended Epilogue

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The sounds of happiness and laughter filtered through the sunroom doors as Billy and Kate Huntington played out upon the lawn, the four- and six-year-olds watched over carefully by their nanny while Catherine devoted herself to another painting. The proceeds for such would be going towards the art school, which she had dreamed of building for so long. And with every year that her children grew, she found that dream becoming more and more certain. 

With every brush stroke, she felt her happiness growing and every time that she looked up from her painting to watch the children, her heart swelled. 

The calm and quiet of Bath was just what she needed. After so long back and forth to London, supporting William in his latest business venture, she was pleased that they had finally settled for a while, happy that her children could experience all that they had experienced when they were young, skimming stones in the pond upon her father’s estate and catching bugs in the meadows beyond, climbing trees and horse riding, receiving an education from the best tutors in English, Mathematics, Science and the arts. Nothing would be kept from her children. She would not scold them for their scabbed knees and their dirty clothes. They would embrace childhood with open arms just as she had done. 

“My love?” 

William’s voice startled her, and she realized that she had lost herself in thought, her paintbrush pressed a little too heavily upon the canvas before her. 

“Oh, no!” She exclaimed, dropping the brush on her pallet, and grabbing her handkerchief to dab off the excess before it dried. 

William approached, chuckling. “My poor handkerchief has gotten a beating these last few years.” 

Catherine’s heart swelled. She still remembered to this day the moment that William had offered his handkerchief to her, which she had taken, to keep a piece of him close to her. 

And though it was now covered in paint, she held it close even as William slipped his arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek. 

“You have quite outdone yourself, my love,” he told her, looking over the painting of Billy and Kate she had created, perfectly capturing a moment in which they had been throwing a ball for their pet spaniel, Gale, named so for his whirlwind attitude. 

“It is not my best,” Catherine shrugged and shook her head. Then, in the next breath, she added, “I did not expect you back until four.” 

“My love,” William chuckled at her and removed his pocket watch. “It is well past four.” 

“It is?” Catherine exclaimed. Looking down at the watch he produced for her, she erupted from his arms, almost knocking the canvas in the process. “Oh, heavens! Everyone shall be here in little over an hour, and we are not nearly half ready.” 

William gripped hold of her and pulled her close. Kissing her upon the tip of her nose, he whispered, “I like you just the way that you are.” 

“Willy!” She snapped at him, tapping him on the upper arm to urge him away. “Do not attempt to distract me. We must bathe the children and be ready.” 

At almost that very moment, Clara appeared in the doorway with a pile of clothes in hand and announced, “My lady, the baths are drawn.”

Catherine barely dared to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, Clara,” she said before calling out the open doors, “Children, it is time for your bath! Our guests shall arrive soon.” 

Billy, Kate, and Gale came barreling into the room so fast that William had to grab hold of the easel to stop it from falling as the two of them wrapped themselves around his legs. 

“Papa, papa! We missed you!” Kate cried out as William plucked them both up into his arms. Gale whimpered and barked, bouncing at his feet. 

Catherine laughed, watching the man she loved with their children. He had become a wonderful husband, but even more, an exceptional father. Better than she ever had dared to hope for. And she watched as he zoomed them out of the room, headed for the baths in their nursery. 

She smiled happily, wiping her hands upon her apron before removing it to hand to her maid. “Thank you, Clara.” 

“You’re welcome, my lady,” Clara said, dipping her head. 

Wistfully, Catherine asked, “Clara, do you ever wish things were different?” 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her maid stiffen. “My lady?” The concern was clear in her voice. Clearing her throat, she added, “No, my lady, never. I am perfectly happy as I am.” 

“Hmm…” Catherine mused. 

“Do you wish that things were different, my lady?” Clara asked. Her voice was quiet as though she was fearful to ask the question. 

Catherine turned her gaze upon her maid, the woman who had always been her closest friend and confidant, and she shook her head. “Ten years, Clara, ten years and I have never once wished to be anywhere else.” 

Relief washed over Clara’s face then and she smiled. “I am glad, my lady.” 

***

That night, William and Catherine greeted all of their friends into their home. They dined, they drank, they played games, and all was merriment. 

They celebrated the sale of Catherine’s latest painting, securing the building she had longed for close to the nearby village. In it, she hoped to open a school for the arts, an exhibition room for the talents of all the local children, determined that all would have a safe space to be their creative self. Her own children would be chief among them. More than that they celebrated ten years of blissful marriage in which William’s business with his father had grown in leaps and bounds, setting him up immeasurably for the day when he would finally become the Marquess of Bath. 

Taking to the dance floor after dinner, Catherine found she was happier than ever before. Wrapped in her husband’s arms she breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

“Are you well, my love?” William asked as though he did not like the sound. Catherine buried herself closer to him still and sighed again. 

“I am,” she said. Looking up into his eyes, she asked, “Are you?” 

“Better than ever,” William responded. 

They were only half-way through their dance when the children came barreling across the dance floor and wrapped themselves around their parents legs. Almost bowled right off their feet, Catherine and William laughed joyously. 

With a shared look, the two dipped down and plucked up their children in their arms. Together, they held them, and they danced in such a fashion rarely seen. Catherine could imagine what her mother would say were she with them. She would say that children ought to be abed long before now, that they ought to be seen and not heard, that they were much too rambunctious. But Catherine loved that she and William had raised them differently. She loved that they were there, along with all of their friends, to celebrate the day when their parents had become one. 

And she wouldn’t have had it any other way. They danced, and they laughed, and they shared a kiss. 

When the music finally drew to an end, William placed Kate and Billy back onto their feet and urged them back towards their nanny at the far edge of the dance floor. “I must take your mother to receive her gift now.” 

“A gift? William, you did not need to do that,” Catherine protested, but William gripped hold of her hand and started to guide her from the dance floor. 

“Continue!” He called to the musicians, urging their friends not to stop celebrating. “We shall rejoin you momentarily.” 

Edward made some lude comment about how they were likely off to make the next Huntington child, before his wife, Marilyn, clapped him upon the shoulder and told him not to be so vulgar. 

Catherine watched them both as she went, laughing at how two of her best friends had become so close. A squeeze of longing clutched her heart to know that Isabella was not with them. She made a mental note to write to her about all of the night’s goings on, to ask about how she fared as she awaited the arrival of her fourth child, likely another son after the first three, or so everybody expected. 

We are all so grown now, Catherine thought, watching Edward place his hand upon Marilyn’s swollen stomach just moments before William dragged her from the room. 

“William, where are you taking me?” Catherine protested. “Our guests shall miss us. The children will be up to no good.” 

“Let them,” William laughed and he pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. “Children will be children and the rest can take care of themselves.” 

Before she could make another protest, he leaned in and kissed her hard upon the lips. 

“Come with me.” 

Again, William began to guide her down the hall and into the library. It was lit only by the fireplace that roared with flame, crackling musically in the otherwise silent room. 

“I have a gift for you,” William told her and he gestured towards the desk. 

“William, you did not need to get me anything,” Catherine protested, shaking her head. 

“It is nothing much,” William assured her, urging her up to the desk. 

Upon it Catherine found a small rectangular box with an envelope sitting upon the top. With a glance at William, she watched him urge her on with a nod before she picked up the envelope and plucked out the letter inside. 

Dear Catherine, 

All these years that have passed and yet you are still as beautiful as the first. 

I cannot commend you enough for the happy life you have given us nor the even happier children. 

I thank the lord each and every day that you saw fit to give me a second chance. 

Please, accept this gift as a token of my ever-growing affection. 

All my love, 

Willy

P.S. After seeing the state of the previous one this afternoon, I am glad that I have brought this one.

Catherine looked up from the letter and raised her eyebrow at William. He simply smirked at her and chuckled, “You shall have to open it to find out.” 

“William, you know I hate surprises,” Catherine said, feeling her stomach flutter. 

“I do believe you shall like this one,” William assured her, and as though he was determined for her to see it, he plucked up the box himself and pulled off the lid. 

Inside something was folded within sheer pink paper, something small and fabric. Curiosity caught the better of her and Catherine peeled back the paper to reveal a handkerchief. 

“William, I…” Catherine stammered, her heart swelling as she saw their initials embroidered in gold upon the corner of the handkerchief. It was the simplest of gifts that she could have been given and yet, to Catherine it was everything. 

Plucking it up from the box she played with the fabric between her fingers. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she lifted them to William to see that he too was holding them back. 

“It is beautiful,” Catherine told him past the lump in her throat. 

“No, my love, you are beautiful,” William announced. He placed his hand upon her hip and leaned in to kiss her. “And you are smart and much too good for me, but I thank the lord each and every day that you continue to love me.”

Clutching her new handkerchief to her chest, Catherine leaned in and kissed her husband upon the cheek. “Then you shall have a lot more to thank the lord for in your lifetime.” 

“I thank him for my tree climbing, paint-smeared, barefoot wife,” William chuckled as he pulled her in close and kissed her once more. “I thank him for my two whirlwind children and our beautiful home. I thank him for the sun and the sky and the stars, for every day I lie beneath them, I know I shall have you by my side.”

Catherine’s stomach fluttered then, and she knew that it was time. “On that note, William,” she said, smiling with further tears in her eyes, “And on Edward’s comment. I do believe he was too late.” 

Catherine gripped hold of William’s hand then and as she placed it upon her abdomen, her husband’s eyes widened with astonishment. “You…you cannot be. You are with child?” 

Catherine’s heart swelled to see the love, affection, and surprise in her husband’s gaze, and all she could do was purse her lips and nod, to stop herself from weeping openly with joy. 

“Oh, Catherine! All those years that I mocked you, all those comments I made that you were no lady! Forgive me, you are the most wonderful, elegant, and glorious lady that ever lived,” William told her, as he dropped down onto his knees and pressed his lips to her abdomen. Catherine’s tears fell as he spoke to her stomach. “Hello, little one, I am your papa and I want you to know that I love you, and your mama, and your brother, and sister, and I cannot wait to meet you… for you shall surely be as wonderful as all the rest.” 

In that moment Catherine saw not only her awe-inspiring husband and the devoted father of her children. She also saw the little boy he had once been, the one who had mocked her and jibed at her. The one who had made her feel far less than perfect. And, looking back, she realized that she had been tested. How else was she to have deserved such happiness as she felt right in that moment? How could she possibly have known what true happiness was if she had not felt pure heartbreak previously? 

William had been there during her lowest of lows but also her highest of highs and as he rose to stand before her once more, Catherine whispered happily, “I look forward to the next ten years climbing trees and skimming stones.” 

“There shall be no climbing trees for you for a while,” William stated, holding her face in his hands to kiss her tenderly. 

“Just you try and stop me,” she whispered against his lips and the two of them smiled together, both knowing that they were both far too stubborn to be stopped from doing anything they had set their mind to. Their entire marriage was a testament to that. 

“Perhaps we can leave the tree climbing to the children for a while?” William suggested, holding her close. 

Catherine wrinkled her nose at him playfully and said, “Perhaps.”

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