Page 79 of Dare to be Wicked

Epilogue

Dr Archambeau,

Despite your reassurances, Lady Elizabeth is still suffering headaches and megrims. She is pale and often has fainting fits. I think I do not need to remind you that ensuring her health is your priority, nor of the penalty you will incur if you fail to do so.

I suggest you do not delay in making your trip across the channel before the weather makes the journey impossible.

―Excerpt of a letter from Monsieur Nicolas Alexandre Demarteau to Dr Archambeau—translated from the French.

30th November 1838, Beverwyck.

“Lottie!” Cassius remonstrated as, before he could stop her, she leapt down from the carriage, hiked up her skirts and ran pell mell up the icy steps to the front door.

It opened, and the family butler, young Jenkins, ushered them in and closed the door upon the frigid November afternoon.

Cassius brushed snow from his hair as he handed his hat to a footman.

“Where is she?” Lottie demanded, ignoring the footman waiting to take her bonnet and cloak. “Is she well? Is she safe, what—?”

“Very well, Lady Charlotte,” the butler said, his warm smile and calm demeanour going a long way to sooth Lottie’s terror. “If you would like to wait for a few moments in the parlour, I will see if you can go in yet.”

“Oh, but—” Lottie said, her beautiful face pale with worry.

“Love,” Cassius said, taking her cloak from her and handing it over before tugging at the ribbons of her bonnet. “Jenkins said she’s very well. Is he lying, do you think?”

“N-No,” she said, wringing her hands together.

“No,” Cassius repeated. “So do stop fretting.”

He guided her up the stairs and through to the parlour, sat her by the fire and pressed a small glass of brandy into her hands. Once he had poured another for himself, he perched on the arm of the chair, and leaned down to kiss his wife.

“Better?” he asked.

“A little, though I shan’t be happy until I’ve seen them both. I wonder if it is a boy or a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh, no,” Lottie said with a wistful smile. “So long as they are both healthy.”

“I don’t know how your father has stood it. Eight children?” Cassius shook his head, his heart and stomach clenching at the idea of Lottie facing the perils of childbirth. Still, it was bound to happen, eventually.

She must have known what direction his thoughts had taken, for she reached out and clasped his hand.

“I want a big family, God willing,” she said firmly. “And I’m fit and strong and healthy. There is nothing to worry about.”

Cassius stared down at her, at the certainty in her eyes. He bent and kissed her, putting all the tenderness he felt into it.

“I love you,” he murmured.

She smiled up at him and the tension in his chest eased, as it always did when she gifted him with such a look. “And I you. Always.”

Cassius stood as the door opened and Eliza came in. She had put on a little weight since last he’d seen her, and there was a faint bloom of colour in her cheeks, but she was still not nearly as robust as she’d once been.

“Eliza,” he said, moving to greet her before Lottie took his place and hugged her sister tightly.

“Are you well?” she said, giving Eliza a critical once over.

“Fighting fit,” Eliza said, grinning and affecting a boxing stance, which was so unlike her Cassius laughed.