Page 30 of Miss Barton's Mysterious Husband
“Because I was nice to your aunt?”
“Yes. When anyone even a fraction less generous would have ripped into her for what she’d done to us.”
He sighed and ran his hand though his hair. “She feels bad enough already. Anyway, I don’t want to cause a rift between you and your family, whatever they might have done. We have the children to think of after all.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Children, is it?”
Roland caught her in his arms for a ravenous kiss. He felt like he hadn’t kissed her for a month. After a faint huff of surprise, she joined in with commendable enthusiasm.
He raised his head and stared down at this woman he adored. “It’s time we got to work on the next generation.”
Her delicious gurgle of amusement reminded him of the peach of a girl he’d married. Although that girl, beguiling as she was, couldn’t compare with the array of complex delights she presented now.
“Do you indeed? Oof!”
He’d swung her high into his arms and marched toward the door. For a few topsy-turvy seconds, he juggled her as he opened the door. “I do. Especially if the front chamber on the first floor has a full-size bed.”
“It does.” Charmian twined one hand around his neck.
He smiled down at her with all the happiness filling his heart. This was going to be the best Christmas ever. He couldn’t help remembering his grim predictions for the day when he’d riddeninto Puddlebrook. How wrong he’d been. “Then what are we waiting for?”
As he carried his wife across the empty foyer and up the wooden staircase, he could swear he heard angels singing alleluias. Or perhaps that was just what happened when a man was madly in love with the woman he’d married.
Love and joy had returned to Roland’s life, along with the wife he worshipped. He was blessed indeed.
Epilogue
Leeder Hall, Northamptonshire, Christmas Night, 1823
Charmian, Lady Destry, gave a contented sigh as she entered the candlelit bedroom and moved toward her dressing table.
“Tired, my darling?” Roland asked from where he sprawled before the blazing fire in a brocade-upholstered armchair. He’d come upstairs before her and had already changed out of his formal wear into a royal blue dressing gown.
Outside it was snowing. Here, inside their beautiful bedchamber, all was comfort and warmth.
She gave him a radiant smile. “It’s always a big job, hosting everyone for Christmas.”
“Especially this year.”
Her hand lowered to her midriff, over the place where a new baby grew. “Especially this year.”
They hadn’t yet told the family that they expected their second child in the summer. Their firstborn, a rumbunctious boy called Alfred, slept upstairs in the nursery under the loving care of Milly, who had taken up a place as nursemaid at Leeder Hall. He’d been born nine months to the day after their reunion, so Charmian and Roland had indeed made a baby during that ecstatic night of emotion and revelation.
On Boxing Day, they’d left the Spotted Fox in one of the inn’s carriages for hire. Two days later, they’d reached Leeder Hall, but by mutual consent, they waited until New Year’s Day to read their lost letters. It had been an occasion for tears and regrets and, most of all, a revelation that on both their sides, love had never faltered.
The five years since that rainy Christmas had seen the permanent healing of the wounds left from their separation.Charmian and Roland had established a life full of joy and purpose on their thriving estate, with yearly visits to London for the season to add a touch of excitement to their country routine.
Now Roland rose and prowled across to stand behind his wife. “We don’t have to do a big Christmas every year.”
She met his eyes in the mirror. It always struck her how right they looked together. He remained breathtakingly handsome, but these days, the first thing she noticed was that he looked like a man at peace with himself and his world. “I know we don’t, but it’s a nice way of getting the family together.”
The annual winter house party mixed Charmian’s aunt and mother with Roland’s relatives. His sisters and their families, and his cousins and aunts and uncles.
“You enjoy it.” He undid the clasp on her extravagant diamond necklace and laid it in a glittering pile on the dressing table.
It was a Christmas gift from her doting husband. He’d presented it to her during a private moment before dawn. She smiled now to remember the cool weight of diamonds on her bare skin and the passionate interlude that had ensued.
“I do. And I like that Mamma and Aunt Janet think you’re the icing on the cake these days.”
