EPILOGUE
Whickham Hall
October 10, 1825
Alexandra waited anxiously for Michael to return from London. He should have been back three days ago, but there was still no sign of him. Logical reasoning told her that any number of things might have happened to delay his return, yet she could not stop herself from fretting over his safety.
He had gone to see Sir Percy with the sole purpose of discussing his retirement from The Foreign Office. Since their marriage ten years ago, he had engaged in no less than fifteen assignments. Most of those had consisted of nothing more than delivering important messages to foreign dignitaries abroad, but they had still kept him away from home too long for comfort.
Alexandra had been unable to accompany him on a single one of these trips, no matter how much they had both wished it. Eight months after their wedding, she had given birth to their firstborn child—a boy whom they had christened Richard. Three more children had followed after him—a daughter named Claire and then two more boys named Andrew and Henry. Needless to say, Alexandra had enough on her plate to keep her busy with four children vying for her attention.
She loved it though—the joyous sound of their voices ringing throughout the house as they played hide and seek or chased each other around the long dining room table. She understood now what her mother had meant when she’d told her that she’d accomplished everything that she’d ever desired in life. She also knew how empty and meaningless her life would have been without her husband and her children about her, and she was glad that her father had made her see reason.
Still, she could not help but worry as she walked over to the lead paned windows and looked out over the fields once more. Why wasn’t he back yet?
Perhaps, I ought to go and check up on my students.
It would at least serve to distract her from the long list of tragic incidents that might have befallen her husband and that was presently being compiled at the back of her mind, entirely against her own will. Throwing a heavy woolen shawl over her shoulders, she headed out of the library, just as the front door crashed open with a thunderous bang.
“Where’s my little hoyden?” A loud voice bellowed.
Alexandra squealed with delight as her heart leaped into her mouth, her stomach fluttering with nervous energy as she raced down the corridor and straight into Michael’s open arms. “You scoundrel!” she chided, punching a fist against his chest as she looked up at him with a smile that still told of her troubled state of mind. “What on earth took you so long? I thought something terrible might have happened to you. After all, you only went to London—there’s hardly any reason for you to be late, or at the very least not to send a letter to inform me you’d be arriving later than expected.”
“I know, my dear,” he agreed, lowering his head to kiss her forehead. He drew her against him in an attempt to soothe her, and there was an intimacy about the moment—about knowing that he understood her well enough to realize that she must have driven herself half mad with worry. “I’m so sorry. I was called upon to perform one last task—a matter of some delicacy which required my complete discretion. I remained at Carlton House until the issue was resolved.”
“Would you perhaps be able to tell me why?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy, my dear, but I can tell you a young lady of questionable birth and desperate circumstances was involved. I tell you this not only because you are my wife, and I know I can trust you implicitly, but also because you have that look in your eyes that tells me I’m in a great deal of trouble. Do you think you might forgive me?”
“I do believe I might. If you kiss me.” Alexandra grinned as she looked up into those wonderfully dark eyes of his.
“My dear woman, nothing in the world would give me more pleasure.” Their lips touched and that old familiar heat filled them both as they reveled in each other’s closeness. It was a tender kiss that spoke of all the years in which they’d loved each other and of all the years that they still hoped to share, wrapped in each other’s arms. When they finally pulled apart, the strength of their emotion was deeply etched in their eyes.
“Come,” Alexandra told him as she took his hand in hers. “I was just about to visit with my students when you arrived. Now that you’re here, I thought you might like to join me. They’ve made a lot of progress during your absence.”
Michael grinned. “Yes, I can imagine they would have under your tutelage.”
Stepping out into the courtyard, they both watched as teams of young girls sparred with one another, some more proficient with their swords than others. Alexandra noted that Michael’s gaze went quickly to his daughter, Claire. His face brightened with a crooked smile. “Oh Alex,” he muttered as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “There’s so much of you in her. It’s absolutely remarkable to watch.”
Alexandra followed his line of vision until her gaze settled upon her daughter. “Yes, she’s only eight and yet it seems like this is precisely what she was born to do.”
“Well, of course it is. She’s your daughter. What did you expect? That she’d be a bluestocking?”
Alexandra couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose not,” she admitted. “I’m so proud of her you know, though she’ll undoubtedly give some unfortunate man a run for his money.”
“Ah, you are mistaken, my dear. He’ll be the most fortunate of men, he who manages to win her heart. I only hope she’ll manage to find a man as handsome and charming as I am. We’re quite rare you know.”
“Yes, I know,” Alexandra replied, unable to help a smile. “But hopefully, she won’t have to join The Foreign Office in order to meet him.”
“Oh? Would you be against that by any chance?”
“Well, of course, I would!” Alexandra exclaimed. “It’s much too dangerous.”
Michael laughed as he draped his arm about her shoulders. “Then I predict we must prepare for open war within these very walls. I tell you, Alex, she won’t allow you to have your way forever. Mark my words.”
“We’ll just have to see about that,” Alexandra smirked as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
They stood quietly for a while in a comfortable silence as they turned their attention to Richard who had happily joined in the lesson, even though his partner did happen to be a young girl of nine years of age. Andrew and Henry were still too young to attend, though Andrew eagerly chased his nurse around the nursery with a wooden sword that his father had once made for him.
“Are you happy?” Michael suddenly asked.
“Absolutely.”
“So you’re glad you gave up spinsterhood in favor of all this?”
Alexandra chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my lord.”
“Then you admit that I was right and you were wrong?”
Alexandra raised a haughty eyebrow. “Are you trying to goad me into a duel?”
“Never,” Michael gasped with exaggerated horror.
“Well, I fear you’ve managed to do so all the same. And before you get any ideas into that arrogant head of yours, it’s for you I fear, not I.”
“That goes without saying,” he quipped.
Holding out his arm for her, he gave her that dazzling smile of his—the very one that always made her heart quicken and her knees weaken. “Shall we show them how it’s done?”
“We certainly shall, my lord. We certainly shall.”