Page 120 of The English Queen

“I know. We will move forward, having learned from her. And having learned all the things we could do better. We were lucky to have her for as long as we did—to teach us. But she’s… she’s at peace now. Taken too soon but never forgotten.”

Robbie left and took a moment down the hall himself. He knew the next chapter would be his to write. He would be the one to make mistakes. Having learned from his mother’s challenges, he hoped to better keep the family together. Robbie learned so much from her—good and bad. But, in the end, they were together. That was what mattered. They put their differences aside to celebrate her life as she deserved. His mother was a vibrant, fiery, stubborn human. She had been a staunch defender of family and country. Robbie would preserve that legacy. And, looking at his children, he knew it would happen. Natalie was every bit that sort of person. George understood the duty. He would do with them what his mother had. He would teach them. Still, Robbie knew he would have to let them go to love and live. He would step aside and trust them. That is all he could do. He learned these lessons over the past decade and a half. This is how he would unite them. This was only the beginning.

Epilogue

“No! I need you to keep walking. Do not try to provoke your sister. Oh, do not give me that face! I am onto you, young lady!”

Keir heard a woman’s voice around the corner. For a second, he could have sworn it was his wife calling their misbehaved children. Sometimes, he swore he heard Maggie in this place. And as he viewed Margie come marching around the corner looking cross, he knew it wasn’t Maggie but Bethany who called to her herd of unruly children. Skipping right behind their older sister were Beth’s twin girls, Mathilde and Elise. Beth appeared, looking exasperated in a tiara, a sash across her body secured with her late mother’s favourite brooch, holding her youngest child on her hip.

“Pa!” the girls brimmed, giving Keir a big hug to his sheer excitement.

He loved these moments. He was happiest when the house was full of grandchildren.

“Oh, thank God,” Beth said. “Papa, can you please take Louisa? The nanny is getting a bite to eat and I’m taking these beasties down to Rita and Vanna.”

“We are not beasties!” six-year-old Margie announced loudly, hand on hip.

Beth groaned and handed the baby over. “You are earning the title at present. Their father is on the phone or else I would have pawned her off on him.”

“It’s no trouble, bug,” Keir scooped up his youngest grandchild. At only nine months, Louisa was still in the peak chubby face a bairn hit before first steps. It was a precious time. He wanted to soak it up.

“Thanks, Papa” Beth kissed his cheek.

“Take a deep breath. You look lovely. Like a picture. I cannot get over how much you look like your mam about the age she was pregnant with you.”

Beth smiled sweetly, “Thank you, Papa. I feel about as big as a house. And I’ve got months and months to go.”

Beth had been adamant she would give Louis two children only. However, they ended up with three after the unexpected four-year-old twins. And then, they’d somehow wound up with little Louisa, thinking she would be last. Then, several months into Louisa’s life, Beth and Louis had happily announced their fifth pregnancy. Keir chuckled thinking about it. However, now he would have a happy brood of grandchildren a baker’s dozen strong.

“I love her. We’ll have fun.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s dreadful today.”

“No. She’s an angel, darlin’,” Keir chuckled. “You’re a sweet wean, aren’t ya?”

He kissed the baby’s head, her sweet red curls greeting him. While all Beth’s children to-date had been blonde as could be, this surprise had been going ginger since about six months. It suited Keir just fine. Maggie would have loved to know she’d had a ginger grandbaby there in the herd down the line. Somehow, Keir assumed she knew.

“Now, I have to go drop these three off with Rita’s nanny. Come, come girls,” Beth said. “I’ll see you shortly. If you see Louis—”

“I will tell him,” Keir agreed.

Beth strode off, her ballgown whooshing as she admonished the still-surly Margaux in French. That, too, was just like her mother. The older Beth got, the more and more she reminded Keir of his late wife. She was only thirty-five but now had a great big family. And she was ever the picture of confident queen these days. She wasn’t the only one, either. He bounced the baby on his hip as he spied one of the evening’s guests of honour. Natalie marched down the corridor towards her grandfather, as if on a mission. Atop her head sat her birthday tiara.

“Look at you, lass!” Keir declared. “How do you feel? You look beautiful.”

She did. She could have been a dead-ringer for Beth at this age. Nat was far too grown. She stopped and sighed, adjusting the sash which indicated the royal honour her father bestowed on her.

“I am so flustered and turned around, Grandpa. Mummy is nowhere to be found and I am sure this is not right. The sash. I look utterly ridiculous, I think.”

“You look like a beautiful young woman. Stop yer blebberin. The tiara is a beautiful thing on you. You should be happy. And yer Mam is down that way. Yer aunt just took the girls towards her. She’s with cousin Rita.”

“Ah, okay. I will find her. Have you seen Georgie?”

“I did a bit ago. He was with yer dad.”

“Okay, I will just go find Mummy then,” Natalie said as the baby gave a great big smile.

“Doesn’t cousin Natalie look a picture, Louisa?” Keir brimmed.

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