“Can you believe it’s already been a year since our wedding?” Fiona asked Edward when he handed her a glass of mulled wine. The scent of cinnamon rose from the hot liquid as she set the rim to her lips for a careful sip.

Bowing, he leaned in, as close as he possibly could. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he whispered, producing a lovely rush of heat all over her body. He must have said it a dozen times throughout the day – first, when he’d kissed her awake that morning while dangling a brilliant amethyst pendant before her sleepy eyes.

“I told you they’d make a perfect match,” Richard said from his position on a nearby sofa he shared with Mary and his mother.

“So you did,” Kip said. He and Sarah had chosen to join the rest of the family for a grand Christmas celebration at Thorncliff Manor, bringing their triplets with them. The birth had not been an easy one, but the absolute delight with which he and Sarah had welcomed their boy and two girls into the world made Fiona anxious for her own delivery, which was expected to take place in another couple of months. Frowning, Kip asked his brother, “Did we make a wager?”

“No,” Richard replied, “unfortunately not.”

“So even you were certain we would marry?” Fiona asked. After all this time, she still could not believe how easily her entire family had seen what she and Edward had failed to realize – that they were perfect for each other.

A bit of easy laughter prompted Fiona to look at her sisters, who were all joined by their husbands on a selection of chairs. “It was an inevitability,” Chloe said with a smile. She appeared to be as amused by Fiona’s question as Laura, Emily, and Rachel were. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to witness the moment when the two of you finally came to your senses.”

“Nobody was there to witness that.” Lady Duncaster winked and leaned back in a comfy armchair.

The comment produced a blush in Fiona’s cheeks. She dropped her gaze, biting her lip the moment she spotted her rounded belly. Looking up from beneath her lashes, she met the warmth of her husband’s gaze.

“And that is just as well,” he said. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers lovingly between his own.

“So tell me, Rachel,” Lord Oakland said from where he stood by the fireplace, “how are your scientific pursuits coming along?”

“Quite well,” Rachel said, a note of hesitance tingeing her words. Looking at Belgrave, the two appeared to share a secretive smile for a long second before she shifted her gaze to the rest of the family. “Belgrave and I will be traveling to Paris in the spring so I may meet Marie-Sophie Germain. She won a prize from the Paris Academy of Sciences in 1816 for her paper on elasticity theory. As you can imagine, she faced a great deal of opposition on account of her sex but was still acknowledged for her efforts, even though she dropped her male pseudonym and entered the contest as herself. It is my hope to learn from her experience and apply it to my own pursuit of entry in the Royal Academy.” She paused and looked toward Belgrave once more before adding, “But as far as my electric lamp is concerned, I have chosen to put it on hold for now since I’ll soon be embarking on a close study of children.”

A hush filled the room, and then Lady Oakland gasped. “Does that mean? Rachel, are you…”

“Yes, Mama.” Rachel’s smile was broad and filled with delight as she reached for her husband’s hand. “You and Papa will soon become grandparents again.”

Loud congratulations followed, along with embraces and handshakes. When it was all over and she was back in her seat, Fiona considered the people who were closest to her heart. It had been a busy year for all of them. It wasn’t just Sarah who’d become a mother. Chloe and Mary had both delivered girls one week apart, while Laura and Emily had given their husbands a couple of healthy heirs. The art exhibit and auction Montsmouth had organized for his wife had been written about by critics so favorably, it had turned Emily into an overnight sensation. Her work was now on tour somewhere in Italy, while Laura’s latest novel was being read by Mary Shelley, who’d personally requested a signed copy of The Lady and the Duke.

A knock sounded at the door and the butler, Caine, stepped in. “My lady,” he said, addressing Lady Duncaster. “The nannies have brought all the children to the Christmas room and await your presence there.”

“Thank you,” Lady Duncaster said. She rose with Lord Oakland’s help. “Well, we’d better go join them. I’m sure your nieces are especially eager to unwrap their gifts, Lamont.”

“More so than the babies, I’d wager.” Lamont followed Lady Duncaster from the room with Laura by his side.

Edward offered Fiona his hand. “Only Lady Duncaster would think to create a Christmas room.”

“I love the idea,” Fiona said as she let him help her up. Linking her arm with his, she said, “Considering all of her other themed salons, I’m surprised it took her so long to consider it. I dare say it will be a hit with the children who come to visit Thorncliff this summer. Imagine how delighted they will be to celebrate Christmas each day!”

“As delighted as I am to celebrate it with you for the rest of my life, I’ll wager.”

Tugging his arm, she drew him to a halt, not caring if anyone saw what happened next. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was gentle and perfect – a loving reminder of how well they suited each other and of how lucky they’d been to stand beneath a bit of mistletoe the previous year.