WITH A PEACE and contentment he’d not known before, Stephen reached down and placed his palm over the swell of her womb. He was awed and incredibly grateful for the twisted fate that had finally brought them together. “I noticed this while holding you on my horse, but I had thought you had simply enjoyed too many biscuits this summer.”
She scowled at his words, and he kissed her on the forehead. He could hardly believe his luck! His lips traveled down to her cheek, and then her neck, and then over to her mouth. No longer scowling, she had become as hungry as he was.
Stephen’s reluctance to move toward the bed had vanished. “So you are, what, nearly three months into your confinement? Have you seen a midwife or a doctor? Is it all right to…?” He glanced in the direction of the bed.
Cecily grimaced guiltily. “The only person I have told is my father. And he thinks the child to be Flavion’s. I did not wish to call for a doctor because then I would have had to commit to lying to Flavion about the child’s paternity. I put it off as long as possible.”
“Very wise of you,” he murmured against her skin.
Stephen had resumed the trail of kisses he’d started moments earlier, and she shivered when he located a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. “Perhaps…” She tilted her head, giving him better access to her neck. “…perhaps I was merely waiting for you. Perhaps something in my heart knew you would come and save me… save us both.”
While she spoke, he maneuvered them so that they lay atop the mattress facing one another. “So there is definitely going to be a reckoning with your father in my future.” He beheld the tender, fragile skin of her face, her soft auburn hair, and her rosebud pink lips. He took into account all she had been through and considered that she had managed, nonetheless, to maintain her spirit and her dignity… well, most of her dignity…
She was worth far more than a hundred-thousand pounds. She was priceless.
And she was his.
“I would like for you to see a doctor, Cecily. We will go to one who is known for discretion. But I must be certain there is no risk to your health before…” He stopped speaking as he let the hand pulling up her skirts drift caressingly along the tender skin to the inside of her thigh. Groaning, he buried his head in her neck again.
“Stephen?” she asked sweetly.
“Yes, love,” he answered, wondering what other surprises she might have in store for him.
“Remember how you showed me ways to make love without actually…?”
At her words, he stilled. Oh, good Lord, she would be the death of him yet.
“I remember that very well,” he answered her seriously.
“Well, I was thinking that perhaps we could… er… well, would you mind if we spent the afternoon discussing ah… some of Shakespeare’s other works?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And after that, they both proceeded to make much ado about nothing.
EPILOGUE
STEPHEN’S PROPERTY IN Southampton had been well cared for and even renovated with several modern new conveniences over the years he’d been abroad. Although he hadn’t been residing in it, he had cherished it as having been the home he’d lived in with both his mother and his father before their deaths.
Cecily loved it. It was the home where they were going to raise their family. For that was what the three of them had become now with the arrival of young Findlay Leonard Nottingham. She reached down and touched Finn’s soft little cheek to encourage him to continue nursing. He was four months old and the spitting image of his father. He had soft blond hair and the deepest blue eyes imaginable. And he was so very serious, just like his father.
As she sat rocking the child in their bedroom, Stephen came strolling in, looking windblown and a full of life.
He was not serious all of the time.
Like when they took their private picnics upon the beach.
Or when he played with their child.
“He is sleeping?” he asked with genuine care. Her husband was a far more involved parent than she would have thought. It was as though he would make up for the years he had spent away from family by heaping love and attention upon his own wife and child.
She had no complaints whatsoever.
“I received a letter from Flavion,” he said cautiously.
Shortly after their marriage, Stephen’s solicitors had tracked the Cunningtons down in Italy. Daphne’s father had returned with his daughter to England as soon as he’d discovered the true nature and legal standing of her relationship with the Earl of Kensington. It was Cecily’s understanding that the woman had agreed to take her position alongside Flavion after all. There had been no correspondence since then, until now, that was.
“It would seem,” Stephen said tentatively, “that the countess has given birth to a daughter… two months ago. Flavion says she has black hair and jet-black eyes. He says she is adorable and is the spitting image of her mother.”
Stephen’s eyes met Cecily’s as he looked up at her over the letter. “But that is impossible…” Cecily reached up and covered her mouth to prevent a laugh from escaping. It seemed that Flavion had gotten his cuckoo after all.
Stephen’s eyes laughed with her as he folded the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. “We must send our congratulations.”
“I shall arrange to have a gift sent to them,” Cecily said. “What a lucky man Flave is. It seems he’s been given everything he deserves.” Little Finn was smacking his lips and pulling away from her breast. He looked quite satisfied and very sleepy.
Seeing that Finn was done, Stephen set the envelope on a nearby table and took the child from her. After cooing and kissing his son, he reluctantly placed the sleepy baby in the lacy bassinette Cecily had insisted upon. “And what of you and I? Have we gotten all that we deserve?”
Cecily stood up and stepped lovingly into her husband’s arms. “Oh, I hope not. I’m looking forward to spending another thirty or forty years more with you, my love.”
“Fifty,” Stephen said, kissing her. “Sixty… seventy.” And then they happily went on to do just that.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MARRIED TO THE same man for over 25 years, Annabelle Anders is mother to three children and two Miniature Wiener dogs. After owning a business and experiencing considerable success, she and her husband got caught in the financial crisis and lost everything; their business, their home, even their car.
At this point, she put her B.A. in Poly Sci to use and took work as a waitress and bartender.
Unwilling to give up on a professional life, she simultaneously went back to college and obtained a degree in Energy Management.
And then the energy market dropped off.
And then her dog died.
We can only be grateful for this series of unfortunate events, for, with nothing to lose and completely demoralized, she sat down and began to write the romance novels which had until then, existed only in her imagination.
She is happy to have found her place in life.
Finally.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THANKS TO Blue Tulip Publishing for taking a chance on me!
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