Epilogue
Late autumn, 1820
Leaning against the ancient oak in the heart of Scarcliffe Forest, Cecily closed her eyes and listened to the sound of approaching hoofbeats. She pictured herself bent low over her horse's back, the wind whipping through her hair. Her bonnet would have been left behind on an unexpected tree branch, which was, in Cecily's opinion, the best place for a bonnet to be.
But she was not riding. In fact, she was sitting quietly with a book in hand. The air had a distinct chill in it, making her glad of her fur-lined pelisse. Before long, she would be watching snow fall over the gardens of Scarcliffe Hall. That was usually no great tragedy, but this year, it would almost certainly confine her to the house.
"Cecily!" Robert's voice rang through the trees. She stifled a smile of satisfaction. She always took care to see that their games of hide and seek had only one conclusion. "Cecily!"
Relenting, she pushed herself to her feet and called back to him. How pleased Robert would be to discover that she was in their familiar forest glade, beneath the old oak tree!
Robert burst into the glade on his horse a moment later. Cecily tilted up her chin imperiously. "You're late."
His horse pranced and kicked as his heavy breath crystallised in great white gusts in the air. "You have no regard for my nerves at all. You ought not to walk so far into the woods! If you must walk at all, I want you where I can keep an eye on you."
"There is no need to be alarmed, my love, unless it is at the great length of time you took to find me. You must not be afraid of Thunder's galloping, you know."
"Afraid?" Robert swung down from his horse and held out his hands to Cecily. "Come here, my little minx. Come here and let me kiss you."
"I am a better horsewoman than you, and you are a better shot than me." Cecily placed a hand on the round span of her belly as Robert kissed her cheek. "Our son will be the perfect sportsman."
"I am praying for a daughter," said Robert. "A son, with your spirit? He will be too much for me to handle."
"Nonsense," said Cecily. "You handle me very nicely."
She let him help her sit back down, with some regret at her own awkwardness. Pregnancy was a more ungainly undertaking than Cecily had imagined.
"Have you noticed where we are?" she asked, nodding up at the branches of the oak tree. Robert drew her to him and smiled.
"I had, as a matter of fact. The very place where I nearly ruined your honour by persuading you to write to me."
"That's not the only assault you made upon my chaste reputation, as I recall," said Cecily, arching an eyebrow. Robert did not need much convincing to take the bait.
"Yes – if I remember correctly, it went something like this…"
The sounds of the forest quieted around them as he kissed her.
If Cecily was ever to grow bored of kissing her husband, it had not happened yet. The passion which had preceded their wedding day had only grown with time. Each time their lips met, she was convinced anew of what she had known from the first: they were made for each other. The perfect fit.
"Do you ever miss it?" she asked, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Robert ran his fingers through her hair, easing out the tangles the wind had formed on her walk.
"The excitement? All that sneaking around?"
"I miss it a little," Cecily confessed. Robert laughed and pressed her closer.
"You mean there has not been enough excitement for you this year, my love? After all that has happened – to our friends, as well as us?"
"It's the danger, Robert!" Cecily cried. "The danger and the secrecy! Where is the adventure in a quiet married life?"
"You do not mean that," said Robert. He lifted her hand to his mouth, pulled up her sleeve to reveal an inch of pale wrist, and kissed it. "You do not mean it." He stroked her hair back from her neck and kissed the soft skin beneath her ear. Cecily could not hold back a sigh of pleasure. "There is adventure enough in married life," he continued, kissing the tip of her nose, "and I intend to show it to you."
His lips met hers. Cecily forgot her complaints.
"But for today, my Cecily," said Robert, after an embrace which lasted several delicious moments, "you have had enough adventuring. No! I won't hear a complaint out of you. I will take good care of you until our child is born, whether you wish to let me or not."
Cecily shrieked with surprise as he swung her into his arms and got to his feet. "You great brute! Let me go!"
"You know as well as I do that struggling will get you nowhere," said Robert cheerfully. Cecily stopped her play at kicking.
"On the contrary," she said, "the last time I struggled as you swept me up like this, I wound up married. I had better not struggle again. Goodness only knows what will happen!"
Robert set her down on her feet and took his horse's reins.
"How I wish I had my own horse, and that we could race back to the Hall?" Cecily sighed. She patted her stomach with undisguised frustration. "Every day, it seems, there is less and less that I can do."
"But it is not forever, sweetheart." He clicked his tongue, coaxing Thunder to a gentle walk, and they began to amble back in the direction of their home. "In the meantime, you must let our family be your adventure."
"I like the sound of that," said Cecily, regaining her cheer. "I like it very much indeed."
The Earl of Scarcliffe and his Countess walked together through the woodland which connected Scarcliffe Hall to her childhood home. The crunch of late autumn leaves under Thunder's hooves was the only sound to mar the peace in the air. Even the chill of approaching winter was not enough to dispel the warmth of love which surrounded them.