Page 102 of A Princess By Christmas
“I may annoy you from time to time. Donovan says I can be very annoying when I’m of a mind.”
“I like to be annoyed.”
“But I will be a good wife to you. I will love you and honor you and I will keep all your secrets.”
“I know.”
She grinned. “Then, yes, Marek Brendan. I will go with you to your farm and your dogs and cows and sheep in Wesloria and pretend I don’t know who you really are and write bits and pieces about things that should be brought to light and—”
Marek caught her up before she could finish the list of all the things she would do and kissed her—her cheeks, her mouth, her forehead.
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “I love you,” she whispered.
He didn’t say it back. He hadn’t heard her.
Hollis smiled. She’d have to get used to that.
EPILOGUE
A trial has commenced in the case of His Royal Majesty the King vs. Mr. Felix Oberon in the plot to usurp the throne. This follows the trial of former ministers of trade and foreign, respectively, for attempting to poison the king. Mr. Oberon is accused of orchestrating a coup through the peace process. It is said the plan was a complicated one—to cause unrest in the regions where Weslorians are considered the poorest by bartering away their livelihood, then enlisting those poor souls in an uprising against the king. Furthermore, the plot was to make the king appear to be weak and sick and incapable of making good decisions for the country.
Mr. Oberon had planned to claim the throne through a distant relation. In the wake of this terrible scandal, the Weslorian parliament has secured the succession of the throne to the firstborn child of the king, with no male relatives able to supercede. Princess Justine will one day be queen.
The kingdom of Alucia has agreed to negotiate once more around the lucrative coal mines in the Astasian region. Lord Osiander, the minister of labor, will lead the negotiations for Wesloria. It should be acknowledged by all that peace is a precarious thing and must be negotiated at regular intervals.
In happier news, it has been widely reported that the Alucian Duchess of Tannymeade is expecting her second child in the autumn. In England, the future looks just as bright for the Duke of Tannymeade’s brother, Prince Leopold, who, with his wife, recently visited his family in Helenamar and reported the healthy growth of new saplings at his English estate. The prince and his wife were accompanied by Lord and Lady Iddesleigh of England. Lady Iddesleigh delighted in taking Alucian dance lessons during her stay. Lord and Lady Iddesleigh continued on a tour of the region and visited Wesloria, bringing with them news and letters from home to the author of this gazette.
King Maksim has recovered from the attempted poisoning of his person. Talk has turned to finding a match for Princess Justine, and as would be expected, princes and sons of dukes from the world over have sent gifts so that she might take notice of them.
Ladies, when welcoming a newborn in the summer months, take care to eat fruit and sit in the sun for at least an hour a day, as that will aid in the baby’s digestion of mother’s milk. This writer has discovered that a good helping of cake will also aid in the little prince’s digestion, as well as his mother’s digestion.
—The Brendan Gazette of News, Advice, and Musings
ALETTERFROMDONOVANhad come yesterday, but Hollis had saved it until today. She’d taken her baby, Maksim, named for a grandfather he would never know, out into the grassy field behind the modest manor home she lived in now. The house sat at the base of the mountains, and the loveliest copse of elm trees provided shade from the noonday sun.
Brutus, the biggest dog with the shaggy black-and-white coat, had come along, and stretched across the blanket she’d put on the ground for his midday nap. His snoring had chased the sheep across the field.
Hollis put her baby to her breast and opened Donovan’s letter. His handwriting was atrocious, and she had to squint to make out some of the words.
He wrote that he’d let her house to an American family with four daughters, all of them on the hunt for wealthy Englishmen, which he clearly found amusing. He and Ruth and Mr. Brimble had taken up residence in her father’s home, and Mrs. Plum came round every other day to cook for them. Marcus, the cat, had slipped away one night and had never come back, and while Mr. Brimble still had Buttercup, he was so distraught about Marcus that Donovan had found another black-and-white cat to soothe him.
He said the peacock’s wedding was held at Westminster, because her father knew someone who knew the queen.
He reported that he was in excellent health and quite happy. As usual, he offered no more than that. He said that the news of Maksim’s birth had filled him with joy and he longed to see the baby. He wrote that he missed Hollis terribly, but that he could tell from the brevity of her letters she was well occupied and happy, too. He did hope one day she would return to London to visit.
The rest of his letter was filled with gossip, which kept her enthralled until the very end. She had changed a lot, but the desire to peek into other lives was still very much a part of her.
Hollis folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket, then lay down on the blanket with Maksim. Every once in a while she caught the smell of the bread she’d baked this morning, wafting over them, teasing her belly. Oh, but she’d grown a bit round since coming to Wesloria. Mrs. Tarian, the neighbor, had taught her how to cook. And Mrs. Tarian had a baby slightly older than Maksim. He was her fourth, and thank goodness for it—Hollis and Marek had been helpless when Maksim had been born. Mrs. Tarian always knew what to do.
Hollis dozed a little. This was her favorite thing to do on summer afternoons, to have a lie-down in a field with a dog and a baby beside her. Her next favorite thing to do was to lie next to her husband in their bed. She blushed a little, remembering last night.
When Maksim began to fuss, she got up, nudged Brutus off the blanket, gathered it up, and walked back to her house. The cat, Mr. Whiskers—they had allowed the Tarian children to name him—was sitting in the window, watching them. Brutus barked at the cat, as he did every day, and the cat stared down at him with superior intelligence, as he did every day. With Maksim on her hip, Hollis opened the garden gate and stepped through. From here, she could see the road, and just as she knew he would be, Marek was riding up the lane, on his way home.
The sight of him filled her with so much love and joy. He had kept his word to her—he’d made her so very happy. In everything he did, in every way. She couldn’t dream of what prayer she’d uttered through the years to have brought him to London.
Marek easily dismounted and walked forward, kissing her first, then Maksim’s head. Then, of course, he bent down to greet Brutus. “What do I smell?” he asked, looking toward the house.
“Bread.”
He grinned, his eyes flashing gold at her. He put his arm around her waist. “That makes me indescribably happy.” He kissed her cheek.
They walked into the house. But just as they reached the door, the sun caught some crystals she’d hung from a fruit tree. It fractured the light and it looked as if someone had sprayed them with sunshine. Maksim gurgled. Marek took him from Hollis’s arms and carried him inside, Brutus on his heels.
Hollis paused on the doorstep and looked around at her little world. It was perfect. There was not a thing she would change about it. Change was over for her—she had found where she belonged in this world, and she could not have been more content.
She turned and walked into her house to join her family.
