"No," Catherine said honestly. "But let's go anyway."
The journey home was quiet, both of them lost in thought. As London's skyline appeared, Catherine felt the weight of responsibility settling back on her shoulders. There would be letters waiting, invitations, duties, children needing attention, households to run.
But she also felt something else—a renewed certainty in what she and James had built together. They weren't just Duke and Duchess, parents and pillars of society. They were two people who'd found each other in a storm and chosen to weather every subsequent storm together.
"Next year," James said as their coach turned into their house road.
"Next year," Catherine agreed.
"Every year."
"Forever."
"That's a long time."
"Not nearly long enough."
The coach pulled up to Ravensfield House. Before the footmen could open the door, they heard shrieking, happy shrieking, from inside.
"Papa! Mama!"
Edward burst through the front door, followed by the toddling twins, the Duchess trying vainly to maintain order, and great-aunt Agatha waving what appeared to be a flask.
"We're home," James said unnecessarily.
"We are."
The End
