Page 69 of A Love to Remember
He reached for her hand. “We will make our life more than a dream. It will be real, full of desire, respect, friendship, and lots of love.”
“Yes, please. That’s a dream I want to live every day.”
“With you by my side, my beautiful Rose, I know our love will only grow stronger. Now, eat your breakfast. Mother wants to see you and to welcome you to the family.”
Family.
The very word used to revolt her. But now it thrilled her, made her heart sing. And this time she would have a family based on love.
Love. The strongest foundation of all.
Epilogue
CHRISTMAS,FLAGSTAFFCASTLE, ONE YEAR LATER
Rose looked anxiously out the window, her gaze sweeping the long drive, and then up at the sky for the hundredth time. Did the clouds look darker and more ominous than ever?
“Do come away from the window, Rose,” her mother-in-law said. “And stop hovering. The men will be back soon. You worry too much.”
She gave Dowager Lady Cumberland a weak smile. Did a mother ever stop worrying about her child? “It’s not the men who concern me.”
The Coldhursts and Blackwoods had arrived two days ago to share Christmas with them. Maxwell was arriving tomorrow, and hopefully Douglas, too. Thomas remained in India much to Dowager Lady Cumberland’s sorrow.
Her husband had planned a full week of celebrations. He was enjoying his new life as husband and father.
Poor Philip had a little shadow now. Drake hero-worshipped her husband and followed him whenever he could. Philip adored her son, thinking of him as his own and she would be forever grateful for that. But Philip did not let that stop him from being a good father and disciplining her boy when he needed it. Drake would need a strong guiding hand as the Duke of Roxborough. She prayed he never turned out like Lord Francis Gowan. She knew Philip would ensure her son turned into a fine young man, and he was a wonderful role model.
The men of their little party—Philip, Sebastian, and Grayson—had decided to go for a ride over two hours ago and, while it had not yet snowed, it was still cold outside as the sun began to set low on the horizon. Drake and Henry had been allowed to go to the inn as a Christmas treat. Drake had been more excited about being allowed into an inn with the men than about being allowed to accompany them on the ride.
Beatrice came to stand at the window beside her. “Our husbands would never let anything happen to the boys, and you know it.”
“I do,” Rose said. But her heart and head rarely agreed on anything these days.
Portia joined them, standing on Rose’s other side. “Let’s go and get the rest of the children before the others get back. They love the Christmas tree. I thought we could let them open one gift each before they go to bed tonight. We will all need an early night as I suspect the children will be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to open the rest of their presents.”
Portia’s son, Jackson, was almost eighteen months old, while Claire, Beatrice’s daughter, was two. Claire’s nanny had her hands full with the little girl who already bossed Jackson about.
Rose didn’t need any encouragement. Early that July she’d presented Philip with a son, and it would be his first Christmas. Little Drury—meaningloved one—was a strong, healthy boy. She’d worried initially about Drake’s reaction to his half brother. Drake—although not enamored enough to spend time with a baby who did nothing but eat and sleep—spoke proudly of him, and she hoped one day he would be Drury’s fearless protector and companion.
Once back in the drawing room with the children, Rose handed Drury to his proud grandmother and took her seat next to them.
Claire and Jackson, meanwhile, ran around the room, stealing sweetmeats off the table when they thought no one was looking. Finally, the attraction of the Christmas presents got to be too much for Claire, and soon she had ordered Jackson to sit beside her while she picked up each gift and shook it, trying to guess what was in it.
“Don’t you dare open any of them,” Beatrice scolded. “Or there will be no Christmas for you, young lady.”
“I’m just looking,” her daughter shot back.
The door opened at that moment, and in walked the males of their party, all freshly bathed and dressed. Drake—wearing the same breeches, stockings, waistcoat, and jacket as Philip—walked in proudly, hand in hand with Philip, the man he called Father.
Rose blinked back a tear, even as she smiled.
She had one thing to thank Kirkwood for. If he had not kidnapped her, Philip might not have ever declared his heart. Now he told her he loved her at least once a day. And she could never hear it enough.
The two of them walked to stand before her. Drake looked up at Philip. Philip winked down at Drake.
Drake cleared his throat, and then bowed to his mother. “Mother, you look exceptionally pretty tonight.”
Rose’s heart swelled and filled. “Why, thank you, Drake. You, too, look very handsome.”
