Hugh could not have looked any more pleased. “I know it is unorthodox, but would you mind so very much if we named her Luella Miracle? I’ve been calling her my little miracle for nearly a week now.”
“I think Luella Miracle is perfect.” She touched Luella’s cheek. It was downy and soft. “So, she is the one? I remembered she’d awakened, but I still don’t understand.”
“The midwife says she has seen such an occurrence before.” But he did not continue.
“What?”
Hugh swallowed. “She said it was perhaps because I held the baby against my skin, against my heart. The warmth and the rhythm, perhaps, but there is really no explanation. I only know she is our miracle.”
“And the boy?” Penelope was very curious now. “How is he?” She had the greatest urge to hold her other baby, too. As though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hale and hearty, already charming his nursemaid.”
“Is that so?”
Hugh placed his hand on her arm and squeezed it gently.
Without answering her question, he leaned forward and dropped his forehead on it, overcome, it seemed once again. “I know it is early. I know you have only just gone through a most overwhelming labor and birth, so I do not ask for it now. But when you are feeling more yourself, I beg your forgiveness.” He lifted his face and looked into her eyes. His were bright with unshed tears again.
Love for him settled into every fiber of her being. She placed one hand along the cords of his neck. It was warm and strong. His pulse beat evenly. “Only ifyouwill forgiveme.”
He smiled. “I will thank you. For your desire for a child and your decision to make me a part of your passion.”
She laughed. “If you would thank me then I will forgive you.” And then she grew serious again. “I do love you, Hugh.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in a chaste but tender kiss. “I love you Penelope.”
She moved her hand into his hair and felt the warmth of his scalp. “It’s about time.”
Epilogue
“Ican walk, you know.” Penelope hooked an arm around her husband’s neck as he swung her up and into his arms. Hugh sent her a threatening glance. In all the time she’d known him, she never would have suspected he could be so bossy.
She’d endured it up until this point.
Since the day the twins had been born, he’d involved himself in both her recovery and the babies’ care. Furthermore, he’d hired a wet nurse to take on half of the feedings, made certain Penelope ate properly and insisted she spend far too much time abed.
She rather enjoyed most of his attempts to spoil her, but enough was enough. “If I have to spend one more day indoors, I’ll positively scream,” she’d told Hugh that morning.
Whereby, he’d surprised her by relenting almost immediately. With a most annoying smirk and then a smug glance, he informed her that he already had a picnic planned for the two of them that afternoon.
The remainder of the morning had drawn out endlessly until just before noon when Rose assisted her into a day dress that she hadn’t worn in ages. Her midsection hadn’t returned to its normal size yet, but over the last week, she’d begun to see changes. She doubted, however, that her breasts would ever be the same.
“Nonetheless, it’s just as easy for me to carry you. You lost a tremendous amount of blood—” He began his usual explanation.
“—and I need to regain my strength. Yes, darling, you’re absolutely right. Whatever was I thinking?” Penelope clung tightly to him as he descended the staircase. Not that she thought he’d drop her but because she rather enjoyed being carried after all. She rested her head on his shoulder and placed her free hand on his chest.
Just this week, she’d begun to imagine making love with him again.
Not yet, but soon. They had a few other matters to address first.
Milton, the elderly butler, held the door wide and as Hugh stepped outside. For the first time in what felt like forever, Penelope felt the warmth of sun touching her skin. Across the lawn, a blanket was spread beneath a large oak tree, along with a basket and a few small pillows.
Penelope squinted her eyes to keep them from watering. She’d been indoors for far too long.
It was time.
Away from her chamber, away from the nursery, Penelope needed to have a serious talk with her husband. Although he didn’t speak of it, she knew he blamed himself for all the difficulties of the twins’ birth. How easily he’d forgotten that he’d also saved them all.
