Epilogue
Five Months Later
Brushing the dirt off his hands, Tristan smiled as he watched his brother-in-law Connor Brunwood, Marquis of Rodridge, light the large yule log in the massive stone fireplace in Castle Greyston. Almost five months had passed since they had first met, and Tristan had been delighted to discover that the man who had finally conquered his sister’s heart was a loyal and devoted man who cherished family above all else. Never in his wildest dreams had Tristan hoped to find himself part of such a close-knit family unit as he now considered his own and had thus accepted the invitation to spend Christmas in Scotland without even a moment’s hesitation.
Next to Tristan, stood Connor’s second-in-command Alastair, a man with a serious frown, as well as Edmond Dunsworth, Duke of Cromwell, whose cheerful demeanour bore a striking contrast to the Scot on his other side.
Despite their differences and occasional misunderstandings – especially regarding Alastair, who seemed unable to forget that they were English – all four of them had ventured out into the woods surrounding Castle Greyston to uphold a beloved Christmas tradition. Although Henrietta had insisted accompanying them, her husband’s gentle reminder that she was with child had finally convinced her to remain behind.
As the flames began to lick the wood stacked in the fireplace, Connor rose to his feet and stood back, a pleased smile on his face. “There,” he exclaimed as though a large victory had been achieved, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I don’t believe we could’ve found a better one.” Then he turned to the three men beside him and gave each an appreciative nod before he spun on his heel and walked over to Henrietta, who still bore a somewhat annoyed expression as she sat with the other wives, condemned to watch.
“Do not fret, Lass,” he said soothingly as he gently pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Next year, I promise ye shall be the one to choose, and if ye insist, chop down the bloody tree yerself.”
Tristan grinned as he watched the forced frown on his sister’s face slowly change into a heart-warming smile. Never had he seen her so happy, and he knew without a doubt that he himself could never truly have enjoyed his own blessings had his sister not also found hers. Every day he thanked the fates for bringing his brother-in-law into Henrietta’s life as he had achieved what no one else had been able to all those years. Somehow, he had helped her overcome her fears and taught her to love again without caution and doubt. And now she was to be a mother.
Tristan drew in a deep breath as his gaze shifted to his own wife, seated on one of the large settees in the centre of the room, Edmond’s wife Anna beside her as they watched Lady Etta Grace, the couple’s almost one-year-old daughter, explore the fringes of the rug covering the stone floor with great concentration.
“She is such a delight,” Anna exclaimed, her eyes glowing as she looked at her daughter. “However, she is quite a stubborn girl, and I fear we will have our hands full with her.”
“She’s just like her mother,” her husband chuckled as he walked over and planted a soft kiss on Anna’s forehead. “Before we know it, she will be the one running the whole household.”
Anna laughed, then shrieked in mock outrage as a few stray pine needles fell from his shoulders onto her head. “Go and wash up,” she commanded, shaking her head at him as he reluctantly left to clean himself up. “No manners whatsoever,” she chided, a deep smile on her face, as she turned back to look at Beth. “I hope your husband is better behaved than mine,” she said, casting a teasing glance in Tristan’s direction.
Laughing, Tristan walked over, meeting his wife’s laughing eyes. “Am I?” he asked, holding out his hand and pulling her into his arms.
A soft smile came to her lips as she looked up at him. “If I said yes,” she asked, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he had come to love, “would you stop trying?”
“Never,” he proclaimed, knowing exactly how lucky he was. After everything that had happened, there were still moments when Tristan feared he was only dreaming, that he would wake up and she would be gone, only a figment of his imagination, of wishful thinking. Never would he jeopardise the many blessings that had suddenly entered his life.
After discovering his uncle’s deception and his ultimate plan to kill him and steal his title and fortune, everything had changed. Although with his uncle dead, they would never truly discover how he had orchestrated the many strange occurrences that his friends at White’s had come to call the curse. However, Tristan was satisfied knowing that that part of his life was now truly in the past. Ever since that fateful day in the clearing at Hyde Park, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. No lapses in memory. No attacks. No looming threats in dark corners.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Tristan had reclaimed his life with his wife by his side, and with their family’s and friends’ support, the rumours had slowly died down. These days Tristan rarely found a member of the ton whispering behind his back or eyeing him with curious apprehension. A large burden had been lifted off his heart, and he had never felt so liberated, so happy.
Feeling the soft warmth of his wife’s body against his, Tristan marvelled at how he could have ever lived without her, and a deep smile came to his face as he gazed down into her blue eyes. Then he frowned, and his gaze slowly took in the soft curl to her lips and the twinkle in her eyes that seemed less mischievous today but rather…expectant. “What is it?” he asked, drawing her closer to the fire and farther away from the others as they sat in the middle of the large hall, enjoying a Christmas season with friends and family.
Sliding her hands up his arms and linking them behind his neck, Beth looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she seemed to consider how to answer him.
For a moment, the look on her face sent a cold shiver down Tristan’s back, and he feared that whatever news she was reluctant to share with him would once more plunge his world into darkness. Had he allowed himself to be happy to soon? Should he have been more guarded?
However, then she closed her eyes for the barest of moments and shook her head as a breath-taking smile lit up her face. When she met his eyes once again, her own shone with excited determination. “I meant to wait,” she whispered, pressing herself closer to him, “until Christmas morning, but I fear I cannot. It is written all over my face, is it not?”
Tristan frowned, still confused, but no longer worried. “I cannot say for certain,” he replied, his gaze still studying her face, “for I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. However, you do seem…overjoyed. Would you share your secret with me?”
The smile on her face grew even bigger, and the twinkle in her eyes deepened as the old touch of mischief returned to her gaze. “I suppose I could,” she teased, “if you were willing to agree to a stipulation?”
“A stipulation? What kind of stipulation?”
Beth cleared her throat, the expression on her face suddenly serious as her eyes held his. “Promise me,” she whispered, a slight hitch in her voice, “if our baby is a girl, we will name her after my mother.”
“If our baby…,” Tristan began, then broke off as the meaning of her words sank in. His eyes bulged, and he was certain his mouth hung open at a rather unbecoming angle. “Our baby?” he gasped, and his gaze dropped from her face to her belly as he drew back. “Are you saying…?”
Although Beth tried to force the corners of her mouth back down, a large grin rested on her face. “I’m not saying anything until you agree.”
As his heart hammered in his chest, Tristan looked down at his wife, and once more happiness flooded his being. “Of course, I agree,” he said, watching a sense of peace descend on Beth’s face as her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath. Gently, he cupped a hand to her cheek and brushed a stray lock from her forehead, his eyes holding hers as he spoke. “After all, without her brave sacrifice, we would never even have met. I only regret that I never had the chance to meet her.”
As tears brimmed in her eyes, Beth nodded, “Me, too.”
Pulling her into his arms, Tristan placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Her name was Ellen, wasn’t it?”
His wife nodded, her face still buried in his chest.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Tristan said as his arms closed more tightly around her, “and I’m certain our daughter will be proud to be named after her grandmother.”
As his wife’s relieved sigh filled his ears, Tristan drew in a deep breath. Although the past was still painful and far from forgotten, the future shone brightly even more so today than it had the day before.
Now, he, too, would be a father, and although the responsibility that came with such joy brought a new weakness to his knees, Tristan recognised it as a new adventure, one that did not scare him any longer for he had finally come to realise that he was neither his father nor his uncle. He was only himself, and no matter what might live in his blood or not, he knew he would rather tear off every limb in his body before he would hurt someone he loved.