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With a meow, Mathieu jumped up and perched himself on the back of the sofa and batted at her hair.
There was nothing wrong with grief but refusing to live one’s life for years out of fear simply wasn’t healthy. Emotions were there to be felt, and the heart let one know they were still alive. It was discovering the reason why where the adventure waited.
Epilogue
December 14, 1820
London, England
Belle shifted on the sofa in search of a more comfortable position, but there was none to be had. She had reached her eighth month of pregnancy with her first child, and though she felt as big as a carriage, nothing could tamp the anticipation and excitement to meet the babe near the end of January.
On a chair opposite her location, her cat lay curled in a tight ball, asleep and ignoring everything and everyone.
Shuffling through the day’s correspondence, she settled on one letter in particular, and as her husband came into the drawing room, she waved it at him. “I’ve had a missive from the Countess of St. Clair.”
“Oh? How does she fare?” Montague brought an embroidered foot stool closer to her location and then gently lifted her feet atop it.
Was there any man sweeter than a prospective father? With a smile, she glanced again at the letter. “She answers my letter and says she and her family will be delighted to come for Christmas dinner tomorrow.” She was the first one of their set to marry a few years ago, and though it had been years since Belle had seen her in person, they had exchanged enough letters to make it feel as if they’d always been together.
“Should I feel nervous?” he asked as he dropped heavily into a wing-backed chair and promptly rested an ankle on a knee. “I don’t usually have friends as high on the instep as the earl.”
“No, because all of your friends skulk about the shadows.” He was a dear to worry. “Alan is a tad intimidating but Caroline insists he’s mellowed since their marriage.” She refolded the letter. “Besides, he’ll be on his best behavior. Caroline is increasing again. Four months along, and they’ll have their first child in tow. I believe little Lord Danfield is a year and a half now.”
Mischief danced in her husband’s eyes. “Did you invite them because you haven’t seen Caroline in an age, or because you wanted me to familiarize myself with a toddler ahead of our babe’s arrival?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“No, it does not.” His grin never failed to light fires in her blood. “I look forward to meeting your friend and her son.”
“Are you worried about impending fatherhood?” They had been married nearly a year, and in that time, her whole life had changed, but not as much as when she’d discovered she was with child. “You will be a wonderful father.”
“There might be some nerves involved, but I’ll take my lead from you.” The look he sent her had the power to steal her breath. “Besides, we have two months yet. Plenty of time for me to learn all I need to.”
Belle kept her own counsel on that. Instead, she sent her gaze throughout the dimly lit room with its cheerful fire dancing behind the ornate screen. Her husband had assisted the staff in the placement of fir boughs, and he’d even helped with the other decorating because he hadn’t wanted her standing for long periods of time. “Do you remember Christmas Eve of last year?”
“How could I forget?” Montague touched his right hand to his left shoulder. “My bones now tell me when rain is coming.” It was also the reason he’d been forced to retire from the Home Office. He wasn’t as young as the bulk of the men still in the field, and he’d refused to spend the remainder of his years pushing paperwork behind a desk. Then he winked. “But it was also the night we both survived the machinations of your former brother-in-law.”
“And when I decided I wanted you for a lifetime… when I decided to begin living again.” Had she shut herself away again after that grand adventure, they wouldn’t be here now.
“It was the beginning of a lovely year.” Relocating to sit beside her on the sofa, he slipped an arm about her shoulders and held her close. “Do you have regrets?”
“Oh, no.” Belle smiled at him. “Well, perhaps I’m saddened a bit that I won’t be throwing my customary ball tonight.”
“There will be a chance next year for you to resume the tradition.” When he rested his other hand on her belly, the babe within kicked, and she giggled. “Besides, I would much rather have you rest and care for this little miracle.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “After so many years of never becoming a mother with Laurence, I’d given up hope.” She realized her first husband had most likely been sterile, and that knowledge had been freeing. “Now, I’m married again and will soon bear a child.”
“Proving that there truly is a first time for everything, no matter how old a person is.” He had passed his forty-first birthday this year. Was he worried about his age? Then he waggled his eyebrows, a clear sign he had a secret. “Also, there is this. I received confirmation just this morning.” From the interior pocket of his jacket, he pulled a sheaf of folded papers.
“What is it?”
“On May first, you and I shall depart on our first adventure as husband and wife.” He unfolded the papers and spread them out atop her swollen belly. “We shall be hunting for a missing tiara and other crown jewels stolen from the royal family of Denmark during Napoleon’s war. And our first stop will be in Paris.”
She sucked in a breath. “Truly?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Is it wise to travel with such a young babe?” For she wouldn’t leave her child behind.
