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She giggled, hiding her face in his chest. “Not pronounceable, I assure you.”
His hand lifted her face again to him, his stance deadly serious. “I regret my mistakes with bitterness, and wish I could go back and erase them.” His eyes fast on her face. “Will you forgive me one of these days?”
She nodded twice briskly. “I am working on it.”
Her impressions about that time still jumbled inside her. She was certain that, if they nurtured their love, the horrendous time would fade in the past.
Epilogue
Two years later.
She had put the past to rest. Long ago, she concluded as she sat in the garden holding little Walter in a bundle. She had been living more a honeymoon than a marriage, she admitted, sighing. The sound of Conrad playing with their eldest, Elvira, reached her ears in that sunny summer afternoon. He had been elated with becoming a father, so dedicated to their family, she believed herself utterly lucky. Not a usual thing among fathers of her time to participate in their children’s lives so actively. He had said he would, though; and he was.
He ran around the garden causing his toddler girl to laugh delighted. Aurelia, on the other hand, goggled at him also delighted, but for rather different reasons. His tall frame bent to take Elvira on his powerful arms, his midnight hair ruffled by the breeze. The years and two children had not abated her want of him. Neither his of her. The nights proved it.
They had been a team. She overlooked the estate’s finances, while he took care of the practical matters. Thus, their assets tripled, making theirs one of the wealthiest estates in England. The tenants expressed their contentment; the Straffords could hire more staff, which freed Aurelia from the prosaic tasks, so that she directed her attention to her children. And to him, as he insisted. She smiled at this. He required a lot of ‘attention’. She would not complain, oh, no!
If anything, their intimacy increased, deepened. They used to talk openly about any subject under the sun. There seldom remained unresolved matters or pent up feelings. She counted this as one of the factors that helped her leave the past in the past, having learned from it. They had built a solid mutual trust capable of overcoming the most difficult problems.
He had insisted on her redecorating the manor after Elvira was born. This centenary baroque mansion shone with the latest fashion. As a final touch, there was the portrait Conrad had commissioned from one of the most skilled painters in the realm. The life-size piece of art hung in the dining room so every guest would witness the proof of his devotion to her. She would commission one for him, so she would reciprocate the honour; she planned smug.
They made sporadic trips to London to enjoy part of the Season. There, they attended the opera, the theatre and accepted invitations for tea parties, garden parties or balls. Lord and Lady Strafford made no secret of the fact they preferred their countryseat. Well, they made no secret of their devotion to each other either, ignoring the envious looks of the Ton.
Conrad approached the tea table where she and three-month-old Walter were. Elvira sitting on his shoulders, followed a butterfly with curious attention. Dark eyes on his wife, he lowered his daughter to the grass. The girl chased after the butterfly.
A shrill crossed her as she devolved his hungry stare. “Good the other ladies cannot see you now.” She commented huskily.
“Why is it, wife?” As if he did not know.
“They would be ogling you with devouring eagerness.” As she herself had been doing until now.
“My jealous she-wolf protecting her territory, is she?” An amused glint in his eyes.
Her eyes would spit fire on said ladies at every social occasion, because Viscount Strafford had become one of the most coveted men in Suffolk and, certainly, England. When he realised how she felt, he started teasing her, flattered by her zeal. He acted no different towards her, though, which made them utterly attached to each other.
Conrad called the nanny who took the children away for their tea. He had never imagined he would be so happy in his life. The arrival of his children completed his bliss; his love for them and his precious wife growing by the minute. He considered himself the most fortunate of men, for he had almost thrown everything away with his immaturity. He was grateful to his Viscountess for having kept his manor, and thus him, on track.
He knelt before her on the chair. “You don’t need to be jealous.” He took her face in his hands. “I am all yours!”
She took his face in her hands. “I will keep it that way!”
Smiling, he possessed her mouth.
The End
