Epilogue
Eden and Devlin stood on the veranda of their hilltop home and looked out over the magnificent view of the harbor spread out below them. At the sound of childish laughter, they each turned, smiling, to watch two toddlers, one blond and one dark-haired, chasing clumsily after a butterfly in the lawn. The youngsters were healthy, happy, and as mischievous as puppies. They were also the light of their parents’ lives.
Nathan Rogers Hancock, named after his father and the man who had granted Nate his pardon, had arrived two and a half years ago in April, just as Jane had predicted. A month later, James Devlin Kane had made his grand appearance, and Eden had cried grateful tears when Devlin had suggested having Jamie carry on her beloved father’s name.
The children were constant companions, and it was odd to think of them as uncle and nephew to each other, for they were more like twin brothers, with the exception of their looks. Eden had wanted a son with Devlin’s sun-kissed locks, and she’d gotten her wish. However, as if to please both parents, the Fates had seen fit to endow their child with Eden’s turquoise gaze. At the moment of his birth, Eden would not have cared if Jamie had been born with twelve toes, so thankful was she that he had arrived beautifully visible to one and all.
For three years now, Devlin had also remained discernible, as had Zeus. The queer romance between the falcon and the parrot had yet to bear offspring, but the birds were still enamored of each other, so that eventuality yet remained. After all, stranger things had happened, as Eden and Devlin well knew.
Eden stooped low to catch her small son as he came tumbling up the porch steps and launched himself at her skirts. Laughing, she picked him up and settled him atop her right hip. “Whoa there, little lad! You’re going to pitch yourself onto your head, trying to run so fast on those chubby legs of yours.”
Devlin awarded her a mock glare. “Jamie’s legs are perfect,” he claimed. “Just right for a growing boy.”
“If you say so,” Eden answered, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a snicker at Devlin’s proud paternal attitude. “Still and all, ’twill not be long before he is too heavy for me to lift.”
“Aye, he’s growing fast and tall, this one.”
“Well, I hope the next one remains petite and darling,” Eden told him with a sly gleam in her eyes.
“The next one?” Devlin echoed suspiciously, bending to scoop little Nathan into his arms as the child came dashing at him. “Eden, are you trying to tell me you’re breeding again?”
She nodded. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. But then, you’ve been so wrapped up in your adorable son that you scarcely take any notice of me these days,” she teased.
“If that be the case, how is it that you are with child?” he countered.
She shrugged playfully. “It must have happened when I laundered your breeches, I suppose.”
“Nay, minx,” he said, laughing and tweaking her nose, then Jamie’s and Nathan’s in turn. “We both know full well how it happened. Most likely, ’twas the night you performed that ridiculous harem dance for me.
She grinned in remembrance. “As I recall, you didn’t think it was so ludicrous at the time. Nonetheless, I do imagine you are correct in assuming that our daughter was conceived that night.”
He cocked a blond brow at her, his son immediately imitating the familiar gesture. “What makes you so sure this one will be a lass?”
“The lemons.”
“Lemons?”
“Aye, Devlin. Surely you’ve noticed that I have developed a passion for lemons. I thought you’d be grateful ’tis not radishes this time round.”
“I am, duchess. Believe me. Anything is an improvement over those noxious roots.”
“Then you’re pleased with my news?”
He pulled her to him, both children crushed happily between them. “More than pleased, Eden. Thrilled. Elated. Overjoyed at the prospect of a daughter—-and the blessed absence of radishes!”