The Runaway Lady’s Secret – Extended Epilogue

“He has your eyes, Eliza,” Henry said softly, peering down at the small bundle nestled in his sister’s arms. “Though I daresay he has the duke’s stubborn chin.”

Eliza laughed, the sound light and musical as it mingled with the crackling fire in the hearth.

Outside, snow fell steadily against the windows of their London townhouse, turning the gray December afternoon into a winter wonderland. “James insists he has my temperament, though I cannot imagine why he would say such a thing.”

Henry’s wife, Sarah, leaned in to get a better look at her nephew. “Oh, he is absolutely perfect, Eliza. May I hold him?”

“Of course,” Eliza replied, carefully transferring her son into Sarah’s waiting arms. “Meet your Aunt Sarah, James Edward Pembroke. Though I daresay you shall be calling her Aunt Sally before long, as we all do.”

The Christmas holidays had brought them all together, a reunion that warmed Eliza’s heart more than she could express. Henry and Sarah had been in Yorkshire for nearly six months, attending to business matters that, for once, Henry was managing admirably.

It was the first time they had laid eyes on her son, born just three months prior, and the pride that swelled in Eliza’s chest as she watched her brother cradle her child was immeasurable.

“I must say, Henry, you look quite respectable these days,” Eliza observed, taking in her brother’s neatly trimmed hair and well-tailored coat. “Marriage seems to suit you.”

Henry chuckled, though there was a hint of bashfulness in his expression. “I suppose one might say I’ve cleaned up my act. Though I suspect your husband’s stern glares have played no small part in my reformation.”

“James can be rather intimidating when he wishes to be,” Eliza agreed with a smile.

“Intimidating?” Henry scoffed, though there was no real heat in his voice. “The man practically threatened to toss me into the Thames if I so much as caused you a moment’s distress. I believe his exact words were, ‘I shall ensure you regret it for the remainder of your days.'”

Eliza tried and failed to suppress a smile. “He is rather protective.”

“And thank goodness for it,” Sarah added, gently rocking the baby in her arms. “Someone needed to set this one straight, and I had quite given up hope.”

Henry placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me, my dear. And after I have been so diligent in my reform.”

“How are Mother and Father?” Eliza asked, the question causing a momentary shift in the room’s atmosphere. “You mentioned you visited them last week.”

Henry’s expression softened. “They are well. Father’s gout troubles him, but less than usual. And Mother… well, she asks after you more often than she would admit.”

“I imagine they’re less cross with us now that I’ve secured a duke for a husband,” Eliza observed dryly.

“That may have smoothed the waters somewhat,” Henry admitted. “Though I think they have come to realize, in their own way, that they may have been a trifle harsh. They have received several invitations this season that would have been previously denied them. Being connected to the Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne has certainly raised their standing in society.”

Eliza sighed, absently adjusting the silk cushion beside her. “At least there is that. I sent them a portrait of little James. Did they mention receiving it?”

“They have it displayed prominently in the drawing room,” Henry replied with a gentle smile. “Mother shows it to every visitor.”

Eliza blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes. Her relationship with her parents remained strained, the wounds of the past not entirely healed, but it was a start—a small bridge across a once-impassable chasm.

“And what of Diana?” she asked, changing the subject. “Have you heard any news of her?”

Henry’s face colored slightly. “I suppose I shall never escape the shame of what I did to her.”

“No,” Eliza agreed, “but one can learn from one’s mistakes.”

“She married last month,” Henry said. “The Earl of Westfield. By all accounts, it is a fine match, and she seems genuinely happy.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Eliza said sincerely. “She deserves happiness after the spectacle you made of her.”

Henry nodded, properly chastened, but there was relief in his eyes as well.

The sound of animated voices in the entrance hall announced new arrivals, and moments later Charlotte entered the drawing room, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her condition evident beneath her heavy woolen cloak. Frederick Fairchild followed closely behind, his arms laden with brightly wrapped parcels.

“Eliza! Henry!” Charlotte exclaimed, her face brightening. “We feared the snow might delay us, but Frederick insisted we press on.”

“And I am so glad you did,” Eliza replied, rising to embrace her sister-in-law. She pulled back to look at Charlotte’s growing belly. “How are you feeling? You look radiant.”

Charlotte laughed, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her stomach. “I feel as large as a house, though Frederick insists I am more beautiful than ever.”

“And he speaks nothing but the truth,” Frederick said, placing the packages on a nearby table before turning to Henry with an outstretched hand. “Good to see you again, Henry.”

“And you, Frederick. Though I must say, marriage seems to have made you even more besotted than before.”

Frederick grinned, unabashed. “It’s impossible not to be, with such a wife.”

Eliza watched their easy camaraderie with a smile. Frederick had become like a brother to her in the year since her marriage to James. The bond forged in secrecy during those tumultuous days at Ashbourne House had only strengthened with time, and she knew that she and James owed their happiness, in large part, to his integrity and courage.

Charlotte moved to where Sarah sat cradling the baby. “Oh, may I?” she asked eagerly.

Sarah carefully transferred the infant to Charlotte’s arms. “Your nephew is a perfect angel,” she said. “He hasn’t fussed once since we arrived.”

Charlotte gazed down at the baby with undisguised adoration. “Hello, little one. I’m your Aunt Charlotte.” She looked up at Eliza, her eyes shining. “Just think, Eliza, they shall grow up together like siblings. Your son and my child, playing in the nursery, getting into all manner of mischief.”

“Heaven help us all,” Frederick remarked dryly, though his smile was tender as he watched his wife.

“I cannot think of anything more wonderful,” Eliza replied earnestly. “Our children surrounded by love and family, just as it should be.”

Charlotte glanced around the richly appointed drawing room. “Where is James? I expected him to be hovering protectively over you and the baby, as is his custom.”

“He had some business to attend to in his study but promised to join us momentarily,” Eliza explained. “You know how he feels about Christmas—he’s likely arranging some ridiculously extravagant surprise for us all.”

“As if this house isn’t festive enough already,” Henry remarked, gesturing to the evergreen boughs adorning the mantelpiece and the massive Christmas tree glittering in the corner. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen so many candles and ribbons in one place.”

“James insisted,” Eliza said with a fond smile. “He says our son’s first Christmas must be memorable, though I doubt the child will remember anything at all.”

“It’s not for the baby,” Charlotte said knowingly. “It’s for James. He loves having a family to celebrate with.”

Eliza nodded, her heart full. It was true—James had thrown himself into the holiday preparations with unexpected enthusiasm, ordering decorations and planning festivities with a zeal that had surprised and delighted her. After years of solitude and duty, he had embraced family life with open arms.

The arrival of more guests was heralded by the butler’s announcement. “Lady Arabella Bexley, Lord Bexley, and Lady Juliette.”

Arabella swept into the room, elegant as always, followed by her husband and a decidedly glum-looking Juliette.

“Dearest Eliza,” Arabella said, embracing her cousin. “What a lovely gathering! And how is my favorite little nephew?”

“Sleeping peacefully for now,” Charlotte replied, still holding the baby. “Though I fear we shall wake him with all our chatter.”

“I shall never find a husband,” Juliette declared dramatically, sinking into an armchair with a heavy sigh. “Another Season gone, and not a single proposal to show for it.”

Arabella gave her sister a reproving look. “Juliette, please. This is hardly the time for your lamentations.”

“But when is the time, Arabella?” Juliette countered. “I am already two-and-twenty. At this rate, I shall be an old maid before I know it.”

Eliza exchanged an amused glance with Charlotte. Juliette’s flair for the theatrical had only intensified with age.

“Two-and-twenty is hardly ancient,” Charlotte observed gently. “I was not much younger when I married Frederick.”

“And consider my circumstances,” Eliza added. “I was nearly your age and facing the prospect of marriage to Lord Langley.” She shuddered at the memory. “Trust me when I say that no husband at all is preferable to the wrong one.”

“I suppose,” Juliette conceded reluctantly. “But it’s so dreadfully unfair. All the eligible gentlemen seem to have either alarming penchants for gambling or faces that would frighten small children.”

Lord Bexley cleared his throat. “Perhaps, my dear sister-in-law, your standards are a trifle exacting?”

“I shall accept nothing less than love,” Juliette declared with a toss of her head. “After witnessing Eliza’s happiness with the duke, how could I settle for anything less?”

“A commendable goal,” came a deep voice from the doorway. “Though I fear if we all held out for such perfection, the population would dwindle alarmingly.”

“Nathaniel!” Eliza exclaimed, delighted to see James’s oldest friend standing there, brushing snow from his greatcoat. “What a wonderful surprise.”

“I could hardly refuse an invitation to what promised to be the most diverting gathering of the season,” Nathaniel replied with his customary charm. “Though I confess I nearly turned back when I heard Lady Juliette’s declaration of husband-hunting.”

Juliette blushed furiously, but recovered quickly. “You needn’t worry, Lord Cavendish. I assure you that you are quite safe from my matrimonial schemes.”

“Thank heavens for that,” Nathaniel replied with a theatrical clutch at his heart. “I may rest easy tonight.”

“I shall ensure I have a husband before the next Season ends,” Juliette announced to the room at large. “I am absolutely determined.”

“In that case, I believe I need another drink,” Nathaniel murmured, moving toward the decanter on the sideboard.

The room erupted in laughter, and even Juliette managed a reluctant smile.

“Jane!” Juliette suddenly exclaimed, catching sight of Eliza’s maid hovering discreetly near the door with fresh linens for the baby. “Come in, please. I haven’t had a proper chat with you in an age.”

Jane looked startled at being addressed so directly by a lady of quality, but Juliette was already crossing the room and taking her by the arm.

“Juliette,” Arabella admonished gently. “Jane is attending to her duties.”

“Nonsense,” Juliette replied, guiding the maid into the room. “Jane is practically family. Besides, she must have all manner of gossip to share now that she isn’t having to sneak off to your house with letters and messages.”

Eliza smiled at her maid reassuringly. “It’s quite all right, Jane. You may join us if you wish. Little James is sleeping soundly, and I’m sure the nursemaid can manage for a while.”

Jane curtsied, clearly flustered but pleased. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Now tell me, Jane,” Juliette said eagerly, “what is the latest below stairs? Has Cook’s nephew proposed to the scullery maid yet? And what of that handsome new footman?”

Nathaniel caught Eliza’s eye and raised an eyebrow, amusement plain on his face. “Your cousin has an uncanny ability to transform any gathering into a gossip circle, doesn’t she?”

“It’s her particular talent,” Eliza agreed fondly. “Though I must say, after all we’ve been through, a bit of harmless gossip is rather refreshing.”

“The snow is getting heavier,” Frederick observed, peering out the window. “I fear the roads may be impassable by morning.”

“Then you must all stay here,” Eliza declared promptly. “We have more than enough room, and I cannot think of anything more delightful than extending our Christmas gathering.”

“An excellent idea,” James said, appearing in the doorway with a smile that still made Eliza’s heart flutter. “I’ve already instructed the staff to prepare the guest chambers.”

“Always one step ahead,” Eliza said, rising to greet her husband with a quick kiss.

James slipped an arm around her waist, his eyes surveying the room with evident satisfaction. “I see our family has assembled in full force.”

“Family,” Eliza repeated softly, leaning into his embrace. The word had never sounded so sweet.

***

Later that evening, after a dinner filled with laughter and conversation, Eliza and James stood in the nursery, watching the gentle rise and fall of their son’s chest as he slept. The snow continued to fall outside, blanketing London in pristine white, while inside the house was warm with the glow of candles and the lingering scent of pine and cinnamon.

“He looks so peaceful,” James whispered, reaching down to adjust the blanket covering the infant. “I still cannot quite believe he is ours.”

Eliza smiled, leaning her head against her husband’s shoulder. “Nor can I, sometimes. Though when he wakes at three in the morning with the lungs of a town crier, I have little trouble believing he is your son.”

James chuckled softly. “A fair observation. Though I believe his stubbornness comes entirely from his mother.”

“How fortunate he is, then, to have inherited the best qualities from us both,” Eliza replied with mock solemnity.

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the quiet of the nursery a peaceful contrast to the merry gathering downstairs.

“It has been quite a year, hasn’t it?” James said at last, his voice thoughtful. “There were times when I feared we might never reach this point.”

“When you thought I was plotting with Frederick to marry your sister for financial gain, you mean?” Eliza teased gently.

James grimaced. “Not my finest moment, I admit. Though in my defense, you were living under an assumed name.”

“True enough,” Eliza conceded with a smile. “I sometimes still turn my head when someone calls for Mrs. Wentworth.”

“Do you ever regret it?” James asked, his expression suddenly serious. “Leaving your life behind, enduring all the scandal and gossip?”

Eliza turned to face him fully. “Not for a single moment,” she said firmly. “I would face a hundred Lord Langleys if it meant finding my way to you.”

James pulled her closer, his eyes dark with emotion. “You will never have to face anything like that again, my love. I promise you that. Edward Langley’s name is now synonymous with disgrace—he wouldn’t dare so much as look in your direction.”

“I know,” Eliza said softly. “Besides, I find I am quite well protected these days.”

“Always,” James vowed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As they left the nursery, Eliza glanced back at her sleeping son, her heart full. The journey that had brought her here had been fraught with danger and deception, but she would not change a moment of it.

They walked arm in arm to their chambers, the sounds of their guests’ laughter floating up from below. Though her parents had declined their invitation, choosing instead to spend the holiday at their country estate, Eliza found she did not feel their absence as keenly as she might have once.

“What are you thinking?” James asked as they reached their rooms.

“About family,” Eliza replied honestly. “About how it isn’t always defined by blood. A year ago, I felt so alone—trapped between duty to my parents and fear of Lord Langley. Now I have more family than I ever dreamed possible.”

James nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I know exactly what you mean. After my parents died, I thought Charlotte and I would always be alone. I built walls around myself, convinced that duty was enough.” He smiled, caressing her cheek. “I never imagined I would have all this—a wife, a son, a house filled with people who genuinely care for one another.”

“It’s rather extraordinary, isn’t it?” Eliza mused. “How life can change so completely in such a short time.”

“Extraordinary indeed,” James agreed, drawing her into his arms. “Though I maintain that the most extraordinary thing of all was finding you, Mrs. Wentworth.”

Eliza laughed, the sound warm in the quiet corridor. “I believe it’s Duchess of Ashbourne now, Your Grace.”

“So it is,” he murmured, his lips finding hers in a kiss that still made her knees weak. “Though I must confess, I fell in love with you when you were nothing but a chaperone with spectacles too large for your face.”

“And I fell in love with you when you were nothing but a duke too stubborn to trust anyone,” she replied, her eyes twinkling.

James laughed, the sound unrestrained and joyful. “What a pair we make.”

“A perfect pair,” Eliza corrected, rising on her toes to kiss him again. “I love you, James Pembroke.”

“And I love you, Eliza Pembroke,” he replied, his voice fervent with promise. “Today, tomorrow, and for all the days that follow.”

Outside, the snow continued to fall, and inside, surrounded by the family they had built together, the Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne welcomed another Christmas in the warmth of a love that had overcome every obstacle in its path.

THE END