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“Oh, Marcus,” she said. “He was in so much pain.”

“I saw some of it,” he said. “Are you all right?” he kissed her forehead. Cecelia sobbed into his shirt.

“How could he survive after all those years of abuse?”

“He didn’t,” Marcus said. “Something died within him a long time ago.” He looked at his father. “Will you go and check to be sure he’s not in pain?”

Claire covered her face with her hands and cried. Then she wiped her eyes and said, “Who would have thought I’d be crying about the Earl of Mayden’s demise?” She laughed, a watery chuckle. “Marcus, you have to be certain he has a funeral. And treat him with respect from here going forward.”

“I promise we’ll take care of him.” He kissed Cecelia’s forehead again.

“He wanted absolution,” Cecelia said to the room. “He wanted forgiveness.”

“Well, he has it,” Lord Phineas and the duke said at the same time. They were the two people he’d wronged the most. And they’d just forgiven him.

“Can we go home?” Cecelia whispered to Marcus. She kissed his neck softly. “Please. I need you.”

He needed her, too. More than anything.

Epilogue

Marcus held his baby girl, a cloth between him and her because she really liked to cast up her accounts, usually on his shoulder. He looked over at Cecelia and winked. “I think she’s getting hungry again,” he warned. His daughter wiggled in his arms, and he adjusted his grip on her so that he could look into her face.

“Just because she made a noise doesn’t mean she’s hungry,” Cecelia declared. “If you want to look at my breast, you just have to ask nicely.” She leaned across the picnic blanket and kissed him softly.

“Haven’t you two figured out that’s where those things come from?” Allen asked, looking toward Marcus’s new daughter. Allen’s eyes shone brightly and he appeared more relaxed than Marcus had ever seen him.

“There’s more to it than kissing, little brother,” Marcus teased. “Do you need for me to educate you?”

“Yes, please!” Ainsley cried, from where she lay with her head upon Allen’s knee. His hand rested on her swollen belly. “Because we have no idea where babes come from.”

Ainsley and Allen had married almost nine months ago to the day. And she was heavily pregnant with their first child. Allen couldn’t be happier. And Ainsley was glowing. Though she was a bit uncomfortable at this point.

“At least ours will not be a miracle birth after only seven months,” Allen scolded.

His mother called out from where she raced down the stream with Lady Anne, Sophia, and Claire’s older children toddling behind them. “Seven-month babes are the thing now. In fact, Marcus was so brilliant that he had to be born after a mere seven months himself.”

“Oh God,” Marcus groaned. “Can we change the subject?”

“Yes, please,” Cecelia said as she took the baby from his arms. He wrapped his arms around them both. There was nothing better than having his daughter and his wife in his arms at the same time. He’d thought Cecelia made him complete, but it just got better as time went by.

Claire and Phineas helped to keep the small children from the river. Sophia and Robinsworth had left to walk alone down the river some time ago. Marcus’s youngest sisters, Hannah and Rose, sat on a blanket, both taking turns holding the newest additions to the family. Both Sophia and Claire had new babies.

“I love it when we’re all together,” Marcus’s mother said as she ran past them, chasing one of the toddling babes.

“It exhausts me when we’re all together,” Lord Phineas said. He scooped one of the children into his arms, making him squeal. Marcus couldn’t tell them all apart. Not when there were so bloody many of them.

Marcus’s father lay in the grass, making a chain of daisies. He leaned over and placed it on Marcus’s daughter’s head. She looked up at him, blinking her blue eyes at her grandfather.

They spent a lot of time in the land of the fae. Marcus and Allen took turns handling their father’s lands in the other world, and they split their time in the land of the fae as well. They made time, however, for days like this when they could all be together.

Cecelia’s father sat down on the blanket beside Marcus and Cecelia and held out his hands. “Let me hold her. You two can go take a walk or something.”

Cecelia wiggled her brows so only Marcus could see it. He grinned and pulled her to her feet.

“Wait,” Lord Phineas said. “We were supposed to be next.”

“Too late,” Marcus teased. “We have someone to watch our one child.” He pointed to where Mr. Hewitt held his daughter. “The joy of having only one child, Finn. Too bad you’ll never experience that feeling again.” He chuckled loudly.

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