Epilogue
One Year Later
Fox feared his heart would give out before the day was over. It hammered like a mallet in his chest.
“Quit your pacing,” Malcolm grumbled. “You’re making me seasick with all that back and forth.”
Fox shook his head. “Why is it so quiet?” He squinted at the ceiling, trying to see through to the room overhead. “I never knew silence to be so terrifying.”
Malcolm said nothing.
The specter of Aileen’s death had weighed heavily upon them all day.
Particularly as Leah was currently ten hours into birthing a child. His child.Theirchild.
Fox paced another circuit of Thistle Muir’s parlor, the silence from the bedchamber above overwhelmingly thunderous.
Malcolm sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I hear tell some women are quiet when they labor. Ye cannae think that Leah would become the vocal sort just because she’s in monstrous pain, do ye?”
Though Fox was sure Malcolm meant the words to be comforting, the thought was a punch to the gut—that his beautiful Leah would suffer in silence.
“Never fear,” Malcolm continued. “My sister hasnae come this far tae let happiness slip away. Have patience, Fox. All will be well.”
The door pushed open, causing them both to turn, Fox’s heart lurching once more.
But it was only Mr. Dandy, sliding into the room and arrowing straight for Malcolm. The cat leapt onto the burly Scot’s lap and bumped his head against Malcolm’s shoulder, demanding pets.
The bloody catadoredMalcolm Penn-Leith.
Mr. Dandy followed him around like a lovesick swain, meowing and purring and shamelessly begging for scraps of affection.
And despite Malcolm’s grudging scratches, Fox secretly believed the man found comfort in the cat’s adoration.
Against all odds, Mr. Dandy had become a boon to them all. Even the Duchess of Westhampton grudgingly tolerated him.
The Duke and Duchess had remained at Laverloch for nearly three weeks last summer and, despite some initial misfires, their visit had resulted in all of them forming a long-lasting friendship.
After the Westhampton’s departure, Fox and Leah had made the decision to move down the glen for the winter. Laverloch was remote even at the best time of year, but during the winter, the mountain road became snowbound and impassable.
For his part, Fox rather liked the thought of being shut up in his warm, cozy castle with his lush wife, scarcely climbing out of bed for months on end.
But Leah had rightly pointed out that being so cut off for weeks at a time would not be good for Madeline’s well-being. And Malcolm needed them.
And so the family removed to Thistle Muir, settling in with Malcolm and filling the silent house with the sound of Madeline’s pattering feet and Mr. Dandy’s yowling. Though he pretended to dislike the noise, Malcolm slowly lifted out of his bleak melancholy.
It likely helped that Madeline had wrapped Malcolm around her little finger within a few days. It was not unusual to find him reading to her of an evening, contentedly petting Mr. Dandy between them.
They had spent a delightful Yuletide together, made all the more joyous by the news that Fox’s suit before the Court of Arches had been successful. Susan’s marriage had been reinstated and Madeline declared legitimate.
And the long, dark winter nights did afford Fox ample time alone with Leah. Each evening, as they lay curled around one another in their bed, he would recount his memories of the West Indies and Madras. Leah would listen with rapt attention and ask endless questions about his military service—the food he ate, the smells and sounds of far-off places, the temperature and weight of the air on a summer night.
In turn, Leah whispered into the dark her stories of life at Thistle Muir, which though quiet, offered up a nearly endless supply of humorous anecdotes.
He adored listening to her. Her eyes shone in the firelight as she recounted young Ethan’s denial of eating a cherry tart, despite the red ring around his mouth. And when describing how teen-aged Malcolm stole a calf into the house to sleep in his room, she had giggled so hard, she shook the bed. Every story felt precious and new, as if Leah had waited her whole life to tell these things only to him.
And then, after their long talks, Leah would curl her head upon his chest and fall asleep, her slow breaths lulling him to slumber.
Those nights had been some of the happiest moments of his life.
