Sophia felt Edward’s arm tighten around her. He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear.
“I am proud of you.” His voice was low, meant only for her. “For everything you have built. Everything you continue to do.”
She turned her face into his shoulder, hiding her smile.
The scandal of Edward’s boxing had flared briefly through the ton before dying down, as scandals involving dukes did. A few matrons had clucked their tongues. A few gentlemen had made jokes about pugilistic pastimes. But Edward was wealthy, powerful, and notably uninterested in society’s opinion, and so the matter had faded into irrelevance.
He had not returned to the tavern. Had not felt the need. The restlessness that had driven him to seek violence had quieted, replaced by something softer. Something that looked like peace.
As for Drakeston, he had fled England within days of their confrontation. Rumors placed him variously in France, in Italy, and in America. Sophia did not care where he had gone, only that he was gone. That shadow had lifted from their lives for good.
A servant approached with a tray of champagne. Edward took two glasses and pressed one into Sophia’s hand.
“Shall we?” He raised an eyebrow.
Sophia’s heart fluttered. They had discussed this moment, planned it together. And yet now that it had arrived, her nerves threatened to overwhelm her.
She nodded.
Edward raised his glass and called for attention. The guests gathered closer, conversations trailing off, faces turning toward their host with curious expectation.
“Thank you all for joining us today.” Edward’s voice carried across the lawn. “Sophia and I are grateful to have you here, to share this celebration with the people who matter most to us.”
He looked at Sophia. She looked at him. Something passed between them, silent and certain.
“We have an announcement to make.” Edward’s hand found hers. “In approximately six months, our family will be growing. Sophia is expecting.”
The garden erupted.
Lady Brimsey burst into tears. Lord Brimsey beamed with pride. Alice shrieked and embraced Sophia so tightly that Thomas had to pry her away. Hugo raised his glass with a grin that held genuine warmth. Lily bounced on her toes, demanding to know if it would be a boy or a girl or possibly twins.
Oliver pushed through the crowd and tugged at Sophia’s skirt.
“Does this mean I will have a cousin?” His face shone with excitement. “A real cousin? To play with?”
Sophia crouched to his level and took his small hands in hers. “Yes, sweetheart. You will have a little cousin. Someone to teach about dragons and beetles and all the important things.”
“I will be the best cousin.” Oliver declared. “I will teach them everything. Even how to paint purple horses.”
Edward lifted the boy into his arms. “I know you will.”
The congratulations continued, a warm tide of joy and well-wishes. Mr. Colborne caught Sophia’s eye and bowed with quiet dignity; his face creased in a genuine smile. Lord Brimsey clapped Edward on the shoulder with more strength than anyone had seen from him in years.
Through it all, Sophia held onto Edward’s hand and let herself believe that this was real. That this happiness was hers to keep.
Later, when the guests had departed and the servants had cleared the lawn, Sophia and Edward retreated to the small balcony off their chambers.
The sun was setting over the gardens, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The air was soft with the scent of flowers and the distant song of birds settling in for the night.
Sophia leaned against the railing, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach. Edward stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
“Are you happy?” His voice was soft.
“Deliriously.” She turned in his arms to face him. “Are you?”
“I did not know it was possible to feel like this.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “To have so much. To want nothing more than exactly what I have.”
“Nothing?” She raised an eyebrow.
