4 Years Later

The scent of freshly cut grass and pine mingled with the air, as Francesca stood beside her Aunt Priscilla near the edges of the outdoor ballroom. The garden was adorned with an array of blossoms, roses and tulips alike, with a few strategically placed tables for the guests to be able to rest if they wished. The skies were free of clouds and the air held a warm chill, making it a perfect setting for the occasion. A soft breeze caressed Francesca’s hair and she glanced yet again towards the entrance, anxiously awaiting Joshua’s arrival. He was terribly late.

“Truly, dear, one would think that your Duke would know better than to keep his wife waiting,” Aunt Priscilla tutted in a playful tone.

Francesca’s lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps, Aunt,” she replied, her voice light, “the concept of time becomes rather elusive when one is preoccupied with matters of great importance.”

“Or perhaps,” Aunt Priscilla countered with a gentle laugh that melded with the strains of music, “gentlemen are inherently predisposed to lose themselves in their grand endeavors, forgetting that, somewhere, always, a lady awaits.” She gave Francesca a playful nudge, her jewels catching the glow of the candles.  

Amusement danced in Francesca’s clear, pale skin – the light flush of anticipation brushing her cheeks. She imagined Joshua, with his broad shoulders hidden beneath his dark attire, consumed by some pressing task while her own thoughts lingered on him with a mix of frustration and fondness. Her button nose crinkled ever so slightly as she envisioned his full lips parting in apology, the roman shape of his nose somehow accentuating his earnestness as it always did.

“Gentlemen,” she murmured, more to herself than to her aunt.

“Indeed,” Aunt Priscilla agreed, her gaze drifting across the throng of guests interspersed between hedgerows and marble statues. “But do not let it trouble you. That is their nature after all. It took me the bright part of a decade to tame mine.”

Francesca giggled practicedly as her slender figure swayed gently to the music, her stance elegant yet at ease, now that she had taken up the role of a Duchess. Instinctively, her hand drifted to her stomach, resting there protectively.

“I pray it takes me half as long. I do find myself rather… expectant this evening.”

Aunt Priscilla, astute as ever, caught the subtle change in Francesca’s demeanor. Her gaze briefly fell upon her niece’s hand cradling her stomach. “Expectant, you say? Now there is a word. And has our esteemed Duke inspired this state?”

“More than you can imagine,” Francesca mused silently with a smile she struggled to suppress.

Her attention was drawn to the entrance as a small crowd of several guests clustered together and their murmurs grew. Francesca’s heart fluttered as Joshua appeared, his gaze sweeping over the gathering until it found hers. She greeted him with a warm smile and a very subtle wave—lest her aunt reprimand her once more.

“Ah, my dear Francesca,” his voice called, resonating above the hum of conversation and the lilting music.

He strode through the crowd, his lean muscular frame moving with an effortless grace that belied the urgency that had delayed him. Beside him, Benedict bore a conspiratorial grin, clearly aware of what awaited his friend.

“Forgive us,” Joshua murmured with a grimace upon finally reaching her. His brown eyes, alight with the reflection of lanterns strung above, held hers with an intensity that spoke volumes of his apology, more than his words ever could.

“An urgent matter demanded our attention,” Benedict added, scanning the outdoor ball and searching for the drink booth–as usual.

“An urgent matter,” Francesca replied, arching a brow.

“Indeed,” Joshua continued, “…but I assure you, it is a tale best saved for later.”

 “And I… shall return shortly,” Benedict said as his gaze finally found his mark. He set off just as swiftly as he arrived.

Francesca placed her palm in Joshua’s, as his fingers caressed the back of her hand with soft circles. Oh, she was burning to tell him the news. She glanced at him with a mischievous smile and slowly drew them away from their friends, and towards the gathering crowd that had begun forming near the dance floor.

“Very well, my love,” she teased. “I shall await the tale with bated breath…”

Joshua’s gaze lingered on her. The strings of the orchestral music heightened and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. Her heart fluttered as she giggled at his boldness before a—no doubt watchful—audience.  

“You appear to be in high spirits this evening, Your Grace,” Francesca said, her arms resting on his shoulder as her fingers entwined around the nape of his neck.  

“In the company of such radiance, how could I not be?” He swept her off her feet and swirled her around in tune with the music’s crescendo.  

“Ever the charmer,” she giggled. “Well, I find myself in possession of a delightful surprise for you, one that shall, I dare say, render your day significantly more… agreeable.”

Joshua’s brow arched in intrigue as they glided in unison.

A playful smile tugged at Francesca’s lips, her pulse quickening beneath the heat of his touch as she leaned closer. “A secret,” she echoed softly, reveling in the way his eyes darkened with anticipation.

“Tell me,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath caressing her ear as the dance drew them closer still, “for I find myself curiously at your mercy.”

Francesca could not hold her anticipation. Not only did it seem almost unbelievable—despite how many years had passed—that she was standing before Joshua, in his arms, as his wife, but knowing she had the rest of her life with him… Unable to contain her excitement, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Joshua Kingman,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulder, “we are to be graced with a new beginning… I am with child again.”

In the span of a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them—their shared breath, the press of his body against hers, and the profound understanding that flickered in his eyes.

“Fran—Francesca,” he stammered, the word a sacred vow, “The sudden ball… is that why…Truly?”

Francesca caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded coyly. As the final notes of the music faded into the night, they remained locked in their private reverie. The swell of life within her was a tender flame that they now nurtured together, a secret no longer veiled but shining with the promise of tomorrow.

“Come,” Joshua whispered with a devilish grin, “let us celebrate this… wondrous news—but just you and I.”

Together, they slipped away to a secluded balcony, a quiet corner of the estate untouched by the night’s festivities. Surrounded by blossoming flower pots and twisting vines, they found themselves in a serene haven, devoid of other guests or attendants. Joshua guided Francesca to a lone wooden bench as they each struggled to suppress their excitement and laughter.

“Imagine the look upon little Lucy’s face when we tell her. She will be delighted!” Francesca giggled as she finally let down her guard.

Joshua’s hand found its way to the small of her back, anchoring her in the swell of emotions that threatened to carry her away. “She will make a remarkable sister,” he agreed, his voice low and filled with the gravel of anticipation. “Just as you are a remarkable mother.”

Francesca’s heart thrummed in her chest, a staccato beat that played counterpoint to the distant orchestra. “And you,” she whispered, leaning closer, “a remarkable father.”

“Of course I am,” Joshua replied with a hint of jest, drawing nearer, his breath tickling her temple. “But Lucy takes after you in more ways I would say.”

“With her stubbornness? I find myself hard-pressed to agree,” Francesca beamed.

“Her stubbornness was shared between both her parents,” Joshua laughed in return.  

“Now, with another on the way…” Francesca’s voice trailed off as she envisioned their future. A future filled with laughter, growth, and cozy evenings by the fireside unfolded in her mind’s eye.

“Francesca…” Joshua breathed, drawing her closer until their bodies aligned, a perfect fit. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating against her own. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough,” she teased.

“Then let me show you.” His hand reached for her waist, while the other lingered on her breast as their lips met. A moan escaped Francesca’s throat and she eagerly climbed to sit astride on his lap, while her hands desperately explored his frame. Neither could wait until they were home, alone in their chambers—always sharing the same anticipation as they once held on their wedding day. Joshua’s lips lingered lower to the sensitive spot beneath the hollow of her neck and she had to stop him.

“Let us not tarry too long in sharing our news,” she said breathlessly. “I am afraid I won’t be able to contain myself if you continue.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His touch was a balm, soothing the fluttering excitement that was dancing through her veins presently. “But you are right—let us return to the guests, if only to get the night over with.”

***

Francesca and Joshua found themselves once again amidst the bustling ambiance of the outdoor ballroom. The air was alive with the buzz of conversation and the soft clinking of glasses, all under the watchful gaze of twinkling stars. They had already shared the news with Benedict, who seemed excited at the thought of mentoring another child, ‘hopefully a boy’ as were his words. He already had taken the role of an Uncle towards little Lucy, so it was little wonder that he looked forward to it.

However, presently, Benedict had bigger problems. He stood beside the couple, a drink in his hand, as he mooned over a Lady who was surrounded by her own crowd of friends. 

“Come now, Benedict,” Francesca chided gently, “you mustn’t let a mere introduction send you into such a fret.”

Joshua clapped a reassuring hand upon Benedict’s shoulder. “By Jove, I never thought I’d live to see the day you would actually hesitate upon approaching a Lady, old boy.”

Benedict managed a rueful smile at Joshua’s words, his fingers fiddling with the cuff of his perfectly tailored coat. “I do not believe her parents would approve–not without proper introduction,” he confessed, casting a furtive glance toward the Lady responsible for his affection—a vision in blue, laughter spilling from her lips like music. Her head turned and she glanced at Benedict, a grin painting her face.

“See there? She is approaching.”

“Just keep in mind,” Francesca continued, “We women hardly care for perfection. It is the effort to put us at ease we truly appreciate.”

“My ever-lovely wife is correct,” Joshua chuckled, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. “Or I would be as pitiful as you today, old chap. It is her parents you should save your worries for.”

Benedict fixed the ruffles of his waistcoat and stepped forward after receiving a nudge from Joshua, meeting with Lady Janette half-way as a smile bestowed her face.

“I guess we shall witness the dawn of another great romance tonight.”

“Oh, I will most certainly make sure of it,” Francesca agreed, her pulse quickening beneath Joshua’s lingering touch on her hips. And though the evening air carried a chill, within her bloomed a heat that no autumn breeze could quell.

“Regarding what I said earlier—about waiting for the festivities to end before leaving our guests…” Joshua smirked wolfishly at her. “I have concluded, it is hardly discourteous to take a stroll alone to enjoy the lovely night breeze. Agreed?” Joshua murmured, his words barely audible above the rustling leaves.

Francesca’s eyes glinted with promise. “Lead the way,” she breathed excitedly.

They moved with silent steps, escaping the watchful eyes of the ton, their path illuminated by flickering lanterns that hung from the boughs of ancient oaks. With each step, the music became a distant echo, their world narrowing until there was only them and the thrumming of their hearts.

“Here,” he said, guiding her into a secluded alcove shielded by cascading wisteria. Their seclusion was immediate and intimate, bathed in silvery light. “We are invisible to the world.”

Francesca leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, her breath hitching as Joshua’s hands settled on her waist once more. His touch was familiar—intimate—and yet, every contact ignited a flame within her, as if every caress was a discovery, yet also a cherished memory.

“Joshua,” she breathed, the sound of his name a prayer upon her lips.

“Yes, my love…?”

In the ensuing silence, they stood close, foreheads touching, the world around them fading into insignificance. 

And in the shelter of the wisteria, under the gaze of the moon and stars, they sealed their promise with another kiss—a kiss that spoke of new life, of endless possibilities, and of a love that would endure through the ages.