Extended Epilogue
2 years Later
Today marked the commencement of Albert’s second year. An event initially conceived by Charlotte as a quaint gathering, with the innocents from the local foundling home as the guests of honor had bloomed into a veritable fete. This was no small thanks to Mrs. Mayton’s ceaseless enthusiasm, which carried the news throughout the village as swiftly as a bird takes wing. Bless her heart.
Nevertheless, Charlotte found herself buoyed by the atmosphere, thrilled to be the hostess to a merry throng of tenants, villagers, children, and their esteemed peers. No longer merely a phantom, but as the true Duchess of Eldenham.
Rupert and Gilbert, ever the jovial pair, approached with a gift that sparkled in the sunlight. Twin play swords, crafted with care and etched with the moniker of their son: Albert Timothy Arthur Remming. Each name a tribute to those cherished souls who had once graced their lives, now at eternal rest: Charlotte’s late uncle, cousin, and father.
Planting a kiss on each of Albert’s plump cheeks, the duo issued their playful decree. “Grow swiftly, Albert. We await the day we can cross swords in friendly combat.” Charlotte could not help but marvel at the dear companions her son had already acquired.
Diana, now the Countess of Redmont, along with her newlywed husband, had recently returned from an extensive trip across the continent. Their arrival brought not only their joyous company but an assortment of trinkets and curiosities from their travels, gifts for each member of the family.
Nicholas gifted Albert a silver brooch with their family crest on it. “It belonged to Uncle Albert,” he said, and Charlotte’s heart swelled. “He would have wanted to give it to him.
Jeremy, feigning envy, quipped, “Why does Albert receive a greater number of gifts than I?” His playful grumble was met with laughter, and Samuel’s jovial retort, “Because, dear friend, he has usurped you as our favorite!” The drawing room echoed with mirthful chuckles at this banter, the air itself seeming to share in their delight.
The day was perfect. And they couldn’t be more grateful for their blessings.
***
As night fell, their dear Albert was tenderly tucked into his bed, his little eyes heavy with sleep. Jeremy, with a twinkle in his eye, informed Charlotte he had an exhibition of sorts to share with her. Seated in the carriage, he playfully tied a band of silk over her eyes, eliciting a hearty chuckle from his wife.
“Jeremy, I dare say that this rather obstructs the purpose of you showing me anything,” she ribbed him good-naturedly.
A chuckle of his own escaped him. “A modicum of patience, my love,” he countered gently. “I assure you, the anticipation will serve only to enhance the experience.”
Minutes later, the carriage’s gentle jostling subsided, and he carefully assisted her down. Her steps, guided by his confident arm, crunched through what seemed to be a layer of underbrush.
At his signal, she lifted the blindfold, and a sight of breath-stealing beauty filled her vision. They stood by the tranquil expanse of the lake, its still waters transformed into a mirror of the summer moon’s majesty. Awaiting them on the banks was a tableau of an idyllic picnic, meticulously arranged in the soft glow of the lunar light.
“Oh, Jeremy,” her voice came out in a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the enchantment of the moment.
He drew her close, his lips finding hers in a sweet, lingering kiss. When they parted, she met his eyes with a gleam of excitement. “I have some tidings of my own to impart,” she confessed.
With a hand resting protectively on her stomach, she revealed her pregnancy. The flicker of hope and anticipation in his eyes warmed her from within, as though she had swallowed a drop of the moon’s own light.
“Are you certain?” His voice wavered with barely contained emotion.
“I harbored some suspicions and waited to confirm before I broke the news to you. Yes, Jeremy,” she assured him, her voice brimming with joy. “We are awaiting another blessing.”
His face broke into a radiant smile, and she found herself swept up in a flurry of jubilant kisses, their echoes of joy blending harmoniously with the lullaby of the nighttime symphony.
He tenderly descended to his knees, planting a kiss upon her expectant belly with a reverence usually reserved for hallowed ground. His voice, brimming with warmth and humor, flowed out into the night.
“Promise to be a good little squire or damsel for your mother, will you?” He chuckled at his own jest, his laughter ringing out like a merry bell in the calm evening.
Rising to his full height, he looked at her with such eagerness that it was infectious. “I have a premonition it’s a little miss. I find myself longing for a sweet daughter,” he confessed, the anticipation gleaming brightly in his eyes.
“I love you, Charlotte,” he stated, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a comforting shawl. “You are the very embodiment of my joy,” he added, his words caressing her soul.
“And I you, Jeremy,” she responded, her voice soft yet firm. “Thank you for being the source of my happiness too,” she confessed. She leaned in to offer him a tender kiss, a seal of their shared happiness.
As his hand slipped stealthily under her skirts, her heart gave a flutter. He would never mend his ways. A laugh bubbled within Charlotte, the sound filling the air, transforming it into a joyous song in the night. She was complete, and that fact could never be changed.