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Four Years Later
Matthias watched from the window as the two children and their mother played in the snow below. They seemed to have built some sort of fort out of the snow, which James was now trying to knock over. His son looked like a military general trying to command his troops without any coherent sense of how to talk to them or give orders. He simply kept waving his little arms around. They looked even stubbier and shorter than they actually were in the thick coats and furs that his mother had insisted that he wear, and watching him, Matthias couldn’t help but laugh.
His son looked entirely ridiculous and entirely adorable.
Catherine, meanwhile, was lying on her back, making snow angels. Her mother must have taught her how to do that, otherwise Matthias was not sure how she would have learned. She also looked adorable. Her snowsuit had been hand-embroidered by Gwen, and although Matthias couldn’t make out the details from that far away, he remembered well how it was decorated with little snowmen, snowflakes, and sleighs.
One of the many gifts that Gwen had given their children.
Gwen herself was trying to build the fort with James. She kept trying to show him how to pack the snow so that he could build the sides taller. But he was ignoring her, of course, choosing instead to focus on whatever game he was playing in his head. The scene made Matthias’s heart swell. It was exactly how he had imagined winter at his country estate, when he was younger and dreaming of the wife and family he would someday have.
The estate had been a gift from his mother upon his marriage. It was in Oxfordshire and spread far out into the distance, past where Matthias could see. In the summertime, the field where his son was currently trying to become a master general would be covered in daisies and sun flowers. Behind him was the entrance to the English garden. In the wintertime, the gate looked even more gothic and regal, with its arched entranceway and spikes around the edges. Inside, the carefully trimmed hedges were covered in snow, making it look like a castle built entirely out of frost.
Past the English garden was the forest where Matthias and Dominic would hunt for wild boars or grouse in the warmer months. Last year, he and Gwen had hosted a large hunting party to tremendous success. Although the estate was a tad far from London, most of the ton had made the trip north and had found the grounds to be wonderful for hunting, carousing, and of course, dancing into the wee hours of the night.
As Matthias continued to watch from the upstairs window of his country estate, he heard a loud crash from below.
Oh no, that will be Gareth and Nathan.
His brother’s three-year-old twin boys wreaked havoc wherever they went. Sighing, Matthias tore his eyes away from the scene below and made his way across the bedroom to the door, then out into the hall and toward the large staircase that led to the entrance hall.
At the bottom of the staircase stood his brother, hands on his hips, as he scolded his two young sons.
“What have I told you both about running when you are inside?” he demanded, feigning a tone of dissatisfaction that Matthias was sure that he put on in order to seem more fatherly and authoritarian.
“No running in the house…” the boys said simultaneously. They looked contritely down at their feet, but as Matthias got closer, he saw them steal mischievous glances at one another. He was sure that his brother had seen, too.
“I do not mind if they run,” Matthias said from above, and the three of them turned to look at him. Dominic gave him an exasperated look.
“Please do not play nice uncle when I am trying to be the disciplinarian,” he said. “They cannot run inside.”
“Oh, very well,” Matthias said, sighing dramatically in a way that made both boys giggle. “I would be very cross if you broke something.”
“They did break something,” Dominic said dryly. “A vase in the music room.”
Matthias shook his head. “Well then, I will admit it: I was lying. I could never be cross with my favorite nephews!”
He held out his arms, and his nephews shrieked in delight, then launched themselves into his arms. He picked them up, laughing, and twirled them around, while their father looked on disapprovingly.
“We cannot be your favorite nephews!” Gareth protested as he set them down. “We are your only nephews!”
“And spoiled nephews, I might add,” Iris said from behind them, and Matthias turned to see his sister-in-law coming in through the front door, her winter jacket still around her. “I do admire my sister,” she added, shaking her head. “It is frightfully cold outside. I do not know how she is able to spend so much time out in the snow with the children.”
“She is very sturdy,” Matthias said.
“She always has been,” Iris said with a laugh. “Come now, boys. We must go and get you cleaned up for dinner.”
“We get to come to dinner?” Nathan asked, and she laughed.
“Well, no. Not the big dinner with the adults. But you can come and say goodnight beforehand, when we are having drinks in the parlor.”
It was going to be a full house that night. Not only were Iris and Dominic visiting with their boys, but Beatrix and Simon had also arrived the day before with their daughter, Harriet. Gwen’s old friend Estelle was also there with her daughter and husband, and his mother, Sir Cyrus, and Gwen’s Aunt would be in attendance. It was a large group, but with Christmas right around the corner, it was the perfect time to have so many gathered together.
Iris left with the boys, and Dominic shook his head. “Two boys is rather a handful,” he said. “I do have some sympathy now for what Father and Mother went through having us.”
“Father and Mother were not around much during our childhood,” Matthias pointed out. “They let the nannies and the governesses do all the hard work.”
“Well, yes, that is true. But perhaps that is why we turned out well.”
“Do not let Mother hear you say that,” Matthias said sharply. “She is much reformed, you know. She makes a point of being loving and supportive now.”
“What do you not want me to hear you say?” a voice asked from the top of the stairs, and Matthias and Dominic turned guiltily to see their mother heading down the stairs toward them.
“N-nothing,” Matthias said quickly. “Only that I am spoiling the boys.”
“Yes, well, that is no surprise,” she sniffed, reaching them and giving him a small smile. “You were always very—”
“Sensitive?” He laughed. “Oh yes, I have heard.”
“Dinner tonight is quite the affair,” the Dowager Duchess continued undeterred. “Do you think Lady Dartmore is up to it?”
“Now, now, Mother,” Matthias said. “I was just telling Dominic how supportive you have become. Do not make a fool of me yet.”
His mother tutted. “I only meant because she was feeling so tired yesterday.”
“Was she?” Matthias asked, frowning.
“Yes, dear, did you really not notice? She was fatigued at luncheon.”
“I was out riding then.”
Matthias looked at his brother, a little alarmed, but Dominic shrugged. “I am sure it is nothing. She just has a full house. It is a lot of work for a lady.”
“Yes, I suppose…”
But Matthias couldn’t help but worry. Although Sir Cyrus had made a full recovery, Matthias still sometimes got anxious about his mysterious illness and if something like that might ever happen to Gwen. It was not unheard for illnesses to pass through family members. But he was being silly. It was Christmas, and she was simply tired from all the work.
And indeed, when Matthias sat down to dinner that night in the dining hall, he could fully appreciate how much work his wife had put into the dinner.
The hall looked magnificent. Long taper candles burned from every sconce, and the table was set with another twenty candles, each as long as a forearm. The flickering light illuminated course after course of delicious food, from venison and suckling pig to mince pies and puddings, haddock soaked in butter with rosemary and thyme, chops and liver, and every other delicacy he could ever dream of. Gwen must have pulled out all the stops in ordering produce and meat from the village, making sure Cook had everything she needed, and organizing the staff.
And when he turned to look at her, his face was shining with admiration.
“You have done marvelously tonight, Gwen,” he murmured, taking her hand and pressing it to her lips. “And on top of that, you look more beautiful than ever. You are positively glowing.”
Even in the candlelight, her blue eyes were sparkling, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked rosy, and when she smiled up at him, her eyes were so full of love it nearly made his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I never thought I could be good at running a house. I thought that managing a business was all I could ever be good at. It turns out what I am good at is—”
“Managing?”
“Yes!” She laughed. “Although being here, even for a month, is making me desperate to get back to the workshop.”
“Oh, I am sure,” he laughed. Around them, the buzz of conversation continued, but he was focused solely on his wife. It felt good to know that everyone they loved was around them, but that he could still feel entirely enraptured with just one person. “I know it was hard for you to be gone from the training academy so shortly after it opened. I do appreciate you coming up here and doing this with me. I think it is important to establish these traditions around the holidays.”
“So do I,” she agreed. “Although I do miss the training academy. I have never found anything so satisfying in my life as training other young ladies to become business-minded and learn about the textile industry.” She suddenly looked guilty. “Except motherhood, of course…”
He laughed. “You do not need to justify anything to me.” And he kissed her hand again. “I agree that turning the rebuilt workshop into a training academy was one of the best uses of that space. And now that Cavanaugh & Daughters is expanding, it is time for a larger workshop anyway.”
“I could not agree more.”
Later, after dinner, and the rest of their guests had gone upstairs for drinks, Matthias and Gwen carried out a tradition they had done many times before, in the late evenings after their guests had gone to sleep; they walked together along the grounds. In the snow, it was particularly romantic. They were all bundled up, and as they walked through the thick, snowy fields, the lights of the houses looked like the flickering candle inside of a gingerbread house.
“I wanted to ask you,” he said, as they reached the top of a bluff and turned to look at the house. “My mother said you were feeling fatigued yesterday. Are you well?”
“Oh, yes. I am well.” A mysterious smile passed across her face, and she reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled something out, which she handed to him. “This might explain my fatigue.”
He looked down. In his hands were two small, carefully embroidered booties.
Booties.
For a baby.
He stared up at her, joy and wonder swelling inside of him. “You are with child again?”
“I am,” she murmured, her smile wide and radiant. “Are you pleased?”
“Pleased?” He did not know how to answer that except to pick her up and swing her around, before quickly remembering her condition and setting her back down. “More pleased than I can ever say. Just when I think you have given me everything, you give me more.”
And then he kissed her thoroughly, there in the snow, until neither of them could feel the cold any longer.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Whispers of Regency Love", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hello my dears! I hope you enjoyed the Extended Epilogue of my new book! I can’t wait to read your lovely comments here. Thank you for being so wonderful! 🥰
One of my pet peeves about many authors of historical romances is their choice to ignore the very times of which they are writing. Thankfully you do not. Your grammar & phrasing are appropriate. Your characters do not ask after one another by saying ” are you ok?” You use the phrase ” are you well” which is historically accurate! Thank you. This urge to use modern-day language in a historical setting is either laziness on the part of the author or more ” dumbing down” to appeal to a larger readership.
I am so glad you did not make that choice Thank you again. I enjoy your books very much.
Thank you so much for your lovely comment and support, dear Linda! So glad you enjoyed the language and the story! I do my best to avoid modern language.