Page 100 of The Duke's Second Bride
She held the string, letting Luke put his hands over hers. “And now, we shall run this way just as the wind changes. Are you ready?” she asked. Luke nodded, delighted. “And—go!”
They pulled. The wind lifted the kite out of Christian’s hands as they ran, lifting higher and higher into the air until it was floating comfortably next to James and Lucy’s kite.
“It’s working!” Luke exclaimed joyfully. “I’m flying a kite, Mama! L-look!”
Ava looked up at the kite, then back down at the boy. Her heart felt so full it might burst. She rubbed the little boy’s hair, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
She and Christian had yet to have a baby together. Ever since that one false alarm, there had not been so much as a hope.
And yet, while Ava knew she would be overjoyed to have a baby in their lives, she no longer felt as though there was an empty space to fill.
The first time Luke had called her Mama, she had cried with joy. It just felt so right. Regardless of his parentage, Luke was every bit her child, and she was his mother.
She would never erase Isabel’s memory from their family, of course. She encouraged Christian to finally open up and talk to the boy about his mother, and to answer any questions Luke may have had.
Grief would never disappear entirely, she knew. But it helped to talk about it.
They had even done a family picnic at St. George’s on the anniversary of Isabel’s death, and both Luke and Christian had agreed to make a yearly family tradition of it.
It seemed like the final wall around Christian had fallen.
And with his guilt about Isabel no longer hanging around his neck, he was finally free to love both Ava and Luke with full abandon, and with no fears of the future.
Ava let her gaze drink in Christian’s manly figure as he walked back towards them. Happiness had brought out an inner glow that only served to highlight the delicious masculinity of his features.
He approached them with a spring in his step that seemed new and delightful, and that smile on his face that Ava loved.
Loved.
What a relief, to be able to say the word out loud without any fear of shame or embarrassment. What an even greater relief, to say the word and have it reciprocated without any caveats or doubts.
Christian loved her, as she loved him. She had never felt more certain of any single fact in her entire life, as she was of this one now. She had finally found what she was looking for.
She was home.
“So that’s how you launch one,” Christian remarked casually as he looked up at Luke’s kite.
Ava stared at him. “Do you mean to tell me you have never flown a kite before?”
Christian immediately flushed a deep red. “Well…there just wasn’t—my parents never—” He sighed, after a moment, putting his hands in his pockets and avoiding her gaze.
“Ah, don’t be so shy, Christian!” Vincent called over from a few feet away. “There’s no shame in being worse at a toy than your twelve-year-old son!”
Christian shot the other man a glare as Ava and all of the children laughed.
“Oh, come now,” Ava said gently, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek, deepening his flush even further. “Luke, would you like to help me teach your papa how to fly a kite?”
“Yes!” Luke said, clearly thrilled by the idea. He stuck out a hand, offering the spindle and rolled end of the kite string to Christian.
Christian took it reluctantly. “Well,” he said. “I suppose it can’t be that difficult.”
The kite dipped in the sky. He pulled at the string, trying to get it to tense once more against the wind, but it didn’t seem to work.
“Try running against it,” Ava suggested. “That ought to get the wind beneath it properly, so that it can sail once more.”
Christian followed the suggestion, running backwards. But soon the wind changed direction, and he found himself having to run nearly in a circle.
As he ran backward, the wind gusted sideways, jerking the kite at an odd angle. The string slackened and whipped around his ankle, sending him sprawling. He rolled down a small decline in the field, landing at last with the string entirely tangled around him.
