“She is.” Francesca smiled. “She’s been asking about being a big sister for weeks now.”
They lay back down, wrapped in each other and contentment. Outside, the wind howled around Castle MacGhee. But inside, intheir chamber, there was only warmth and love and the promise of new life.
“I love ye,” Declan whispered into the darkness.
“And I love you.”
Tomorrow, they would tell Eloise. Tomorrow, they would begin preparing for the newest member of their family. But tonight, they simply held each other, savoring this perfect moment before everything changed once more.
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Francesca shifted in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position that accommodated her swollen belly. At six months pregnant, comfort was becoming increasingly elusive—especially when sitting in the library’s ornate but decidedly unforgiving furniture.
“Stop fidgeting, dear,” Lady Gretchen said without looking up from her embroidery. “You’ll wear yourself out before the babe even arrives.”
“I’m not fidgeting. I’m attempting to exist in a body that no longer seems to belong to me.” Francesca accepted the tea her aunt poured, cradling the warm cup in both hands. “How did you bear this, Aunt? Surely you must have some wisdom about being this ungainly.”
“I never had children, as you well know. But I watched your mother endure it when you and Violet were born.” LadyGretchen’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “She complained far more than you do—I can tell you that much.”
“That’s not particularly comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. It was meant to make you feel superior to Petunia, which always seems to improve your mood.”
Francesca laughed despite herself, then gasped as the baby kicked enthusiastically against her ribs. “This child is going to be a terror. I can already tell.”
“Takes after its father, then.”
“Declan is not a terror.”
“No, he’s merely the most intimidating man in the Highlands who happens to go soft as butter the moment you enter a room.” Lady Gretchen set down her embroidery with a satisfied smile. “It’s quite entertaining to watch, actually. The fearsome Laird MacGhee, reduced to hovering like a worried mother hen.”
As if summoned by his name, the study door opened, and Declan appeared, his grey eyes immediately seeking out Francesca with that now-familiar concern.
“Ye should be restin’,” he said, moving to her side. “The healer said ye should always rest.”
“The healer said I should remain active and engaged, not lock myself in our chamber like an invalid.” But she softened the rebuke by taking his offered hand, letting him help her to her feet. “Though I admit, I wouldn’t mind moving to the solar. These chairs were designed by someone who hated pregnant women.”
“Then to the solar we’ll go.” He kept his arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they walked. Lady Gretchen followed with an indulgent smile, gathering her embroidery.
The solar had become even more of a family haven in recent months. Where once it had been merely comfortable, it was now positively overrun with evidence of their life together—Eloise’s drawings covering one wall, Bluebell’s elaborate hutch in the corner, and cat toys scattered across the hearth rug.
Speaking of which?—
“Careful!” Francesca grabbed Declan’s arm as Declan, the cat, darted between his feet, chasing what appeared to be a ball of yarn. Flora followed close behind, the two of them tumbling over each other in their enthusiasm.
“Those damned cats,” Declan muttered, but there was no real heat in it. He’d grown as attached to the creatures as everyone else, though he’d never admit it aloud.
“Language,” Francesca chided, settling onto the plush sofa with relief. “Eloise will hear you.”
“Eloise is currently in the courtyard, teaching Bluebell to navigate an obstacle course she’s constructed.” Lady Gretchen claimed the chair nearest the fire. “I saw her on my way in. That child has more energy than should be humanly possible.”
“She’s making up for lost time.” Francesca’s hand drifted to her belly, rubbing absently. “After everything she went through, I’m grateful she can just be a child again.”
“Thanks to you both.” Lady Gretchen’s voice softened. “You’ve given her something precious—safety and love. That’s no small gift.”
Before Francesca could respond, the solar door burst open, and Eloise rushed in, her face flushed with excitement. Bluebell hopped along behind her, having apparently escaped whatever obstacle course he’d been subjected to.
