Page 153 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Later that night, after Cecily had been fed and settled again, without an eager cook to wake her, Honora sat down at the small desk in her room. She took out the letter she had written to Celestine days before, the one she had left on the table for Leopold to read if he ever wished to. The paper had grown soft now from being folded and unfolded so many times.

She read the last line once, then picked up her pen and added another.

I said yes in a chapel with colored light on the floor, and my voice broke, so I had to say it twice.

Honora smiled through fresh tears and let the pen rest a moment before she wrote one final line.

I felt you there with me. And for the first time since you left us, I feel whole and complete.

She folded the letter and returned it to the others in its hiding place, then sat a moment longer with her hand resting on top of the desk.

For a while, she simply sat there, thinking about Celestine and what she might have made of all this.

She would have called it impossible, and then she would have called it wonderful in the very next breath, Honora thought with a laugh.

The false name, the service gate, the village inn, and the bag Honora had packed and unpacked four separate times without ever once carrying it anywhere at all would have made her laugh until she could not breathe. Then she would have demanded the whole story again from the beginning, just so she could laugh all over again.

Honora smiled and wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand. Celestine would have loved, above everything else, knowing that her own daughter was loved so openly and completely. Cecily had been claimed outright by a household full of people that found each other just in time to begin repairing the wrongs of the past. And just in time for them to fall in love with the little girl, even though they had never meant to.

Epilogue

Three weeks after the proposal, Leopold stood at the front of the little family chapel and waited for Honora.

“You are pacing,” Barnaby said beside him.

“I am standing.”

“You have moved six times.”

Leopold looked at him. “I thought it best to mention it.”

“Do you have nothing better to occupy yourself with?”

“Not at this precise moment.”

“You could pace instead. I would find it a comfort,” Barnaby replied.

“That distinction matters a great deal, given that I am not the one getting married.”

The chapel doors opened before Leopold could answer.

Honora walked up the aisle with Cecily on her hip. Honora was smiling, though her eyes were bright with tears. Cecily had one hand tangled in the lace near her aunt’s shoulder and was looking around the chapel with great interest.

Gideon sat in the third row throughout the ceremony with his hands resting on his knees. His eyes were red before it even began.

When Honora walked toward Leopold at the front of the chapel, Gideon had watched her the entire way. And when she glanced back as she positioned herself beside Leopold, she seemed to notice her father.

She gave him a small smile. Leopold had seen his lips move. He could not be sure, but he thought he was mouthing Honora’s mother’s name. He decided he must have been right when Honora put a hand to her mouth and a tear slipped from her cheek.

Leopold held out his hand, and she took it.

“I see we have an addition to our wedding.”

“She refused to be put down,” Honora whispered.

Leopold laughed softly. “I can see that.”

“It took Martha and Mrs. Pritchard ages to help me dress.”