His Enemy Duchess (Feuding Seduction #1)

Extended Epilogue

One Year Later

“By the power vested in me by the Crown and God, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The two families of Pratt and Kendall erupted in applause as James and Emily shared a single kiss, holding hands as if they never meant to let go.

At the back of the church, Thomas looked at Sophia by his side, and she looked back at him. Her piercing green eyes, the smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks, her long dark hair, and that ever-present lock that fell between her eyes. If he wasn’t a pragmatic man, he’d swear she was growing prettier by the day.

“Not remotely as glum as our wedding, is it, my dear?” she asked slyly, winking at him.

Thomas chuckled. “Do you think we should recommend they go through a tortuous period of avoiding each other for a happier marriage?”

Sophia looked at James with the usual admiration she had for him and felt her heart swell at the sight of Emily laughing and smiling, coaxed out of her shell by the man at her side.

“I don’t think they’ll need it.” She smiled along with the happy couple, but it soon faded, her eyebrows knitting together.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked as if he could sense something was off.

“I just wish… he had just accepted it,” she croaked. “If he had, he would be here with us today. He would have seen how easy it could be.”

“Your heart is too kind, Sophia,” Thomas said as he held her gently, trailing his thumb up and down her arm. “Even after everything he did, you wish your uncle was here?”

“He wasn’t always like that. He used to be a man who cared for his family and loved us. I suppose I wish his love would have been bigger than his hatred.”

“Remember, your father decided his exile would be the best course of action. And I agreed with him.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I just… I hope he finds peace in his heart one day.”

The crowd split in half as the happy couple walked between them, their hands intertwined, proving for a third time just how easy it could be for a Pratt and a Kendall to know love instead of hatred.

***

The noise was dying down as the two of them found their way out of the church and down the wide alley where they had left their carriage. But as soon as they turned, Sophia realized something was wrong. Rather, something was missing.

“Thomas, dear… where did our carriage go?”

“Well, you see, I thought of an alternative way we could get back to the manor,” he said and put his fingers up for a loud whistle.

From the rear of the church, two familiar horses appeared—Lucille and Violetta, fully saddled and eager as they trotted towards their respective riders.

Sophia gasped in surprise and looked at her husband. “What is this?”

“Our deciding race. I believe it’s time. And we have the entire road back home as our racecourse. No flukes this time!” He gave her a proud smile, prouder than a peacock, his chest puffed. “May the better rider win because, today, he actually will!”

“Oh… Uhm…” She held Violetta’s reins in her hands and looked down. “Are you sure? Isn’t Violenta still loaned to you? I wouldn’t want to risk her health if…”

“She has been through far, far worse.”

“But uh… I am not feeling very well today, you see—”

“No, it’s all right. I see what this is.” Thomas’s smile widened. “You are afraid. You don’t want to risk losing to a duke.”

“Thomas.”

“I can’t fault you. You only got lucky once.”

“Thomas.”

“You are afraid of my prowess, and you don’t want—”

“Thomas! I am pregnant!”

Thomas’s mouth dropped open, his shock reverberating through the air. Then, a smile made its way to his lips, and hers.

“With… Pregnant? With… child?”

“I am with child, yes.”

“Are you certain about this?”

She nodded. “I started feeling unwell and asked your grandmother and my mother for the signs I should look out for. I’m almost certain that I’m with child—a few months along, by Rosamund’s estimation, and she is never—”

He grabbed her and lifted her into his arms, transforming her words into a startled yelp.

“Thomas!” She chuckled. “Oh my goodness, please put me down! I am going to be sick.”

He immediately put her down. “I’m so sorry, I got so excited. I—we—there are so many things we need to take care of. We need to prepare a nursery. I need to send a letter to our physician. We should ransack my grandmother’s house for herbs and tonics that are good for growing babies—there are so many things and so little time!”

Sophia laughed her heart out. “We have time, Thomas. At least five or six months.”

“That is nothing at all! Goodness, I am already behind.”

Sophia was ecstatic watching him like this. He had never shown so much anxiety, so much excitement, and it warmed her heart, knowing at that moment that he would be the most wonderful father.

He had just found out that he was going to have a child, and already it was obvious that he loved his son or daughter to the point of madness. Madness of the best kind.

***

Four Years Later

“Oliver is a goose!”

“Rosamund! Young lady!” Sophia tried to cover her smile with a gasp as she wagged a finger at her almost four-year-old daughter. “Wait, wait. What is he?”

“A goose! He’s a goose!”

“Do you perhaps mean a silly goose?” Thomas asked as he dabbed a clean cloth on his daughter’s scratch, gained from a nasty encounter with a kitten.

Sophia suspected it was the ‘silly goose’ who had encouraged Rosamund to hold the kitten, though everyone knew it was half-wild.

“Yes! He’s a silly goose! Very silly!”

Sophia covered her mouth to hide a smirk. She couldn’t let her daughter think she was making fun of her.

“Rosamund, dear, what do you think that means?”

“A bad person! He’s a bad person”

“Oh, is he now?” Thomas asked with his usual reverence.

“Yes! I hate him, Papa! I don’t want to see him ever again,” Rosamund said with an adorable, little pout.

“Well, isn’t this some history repeating itself.” Thomas turned and looked at Sophia with a slight smirk.

Funny little thing, that. There was a time when I wanted to punch that smile off his face. And now…

Now, it had become a beacon of warmth and safety. The sweetness that woke her up every morning.

“That will be hard to do, my dear,” Sophia said more reasonably. “Considering he’s your cousin.”

“I will talk with him, my darling girl,” Thomas said, blowing on the cut. “We can’t have him being such a silly goose to my daughter.”

Sophia had to hold herself again. The sound of her serious husband saying “silly goose” in his strict and commanding tone almost made her spit out her lungs from trying to swallow her laughter.

He finished tying the bandage and gave it a small kiss. “Does it hurt still?”

“No,” Rosamund replied with a sniffle.

“Good.”

***

“Your Grace.”

“What is the matter, Penny? Is Matthew awake?”

“No, Your Grace, he’s still soundly asleep.”

Sophia sighed with relief. A new baby always brought excitement and joy along with sleepless nights. Any amount of peace they could get was always appreciated.

The maid smiled. “I just wanted to inform you that your family has gathered in the drawing room for dessert.”

“Splendid. Thank you, Penny.”

Sophia headed to the drawing room, passing by the library on the way. She stopped for a few seconds and looked inside, getting hit with a wave of nostalgia.

That one night, years ago, reading that silly adventure book and falling asleep to his voice… waking up in that chair covered in his housecoat.

The memories were as fresh to her as those of yesterday morning.

If only we were more accepting of each other back then… We wasted so much time hating each other.

However, she couldn’t deny that it had made for at least three thrilling encounters that she would never forget, their passion evident from the beginning, though they hadn’t realized that was what it was.

But there was no time for reminiscing. She was expected.

***

“Dear sister, I’ve been told that a certain little miscreant has been uncharacteristically cruel to his cousin.” James was holding Oliver by the shoulder, tapping it softly.

“Why yes, I also got a report that a certain kitten attacked my daughter because someone dropped it on her.” Sophia looked down at the boy, affecting her strongest and strictest auntie look.

Oliver had his chin firmly fixed to his chest. “I’m sorry, Aunt Sophia.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your cousin. She’s the one who got hurt.”

Little Rosamund, who poked her little raven-haired head from behind her mother’s dress, was shooting mean daggers at him. Emerging, she walked up to him and stared at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dropped the kitten in your lap,” he said, scratching his head.

“I have a bandage now.” She lifted her hand proudly, showing off her thumb.

Oliver gasped. “Father, can I have one too?”

“You want a bandage? Why?”

“It looks impressive.”

“But you are not hurt.” James saw the cogs in his son’s head start turning. “Oliver Kendall, if you are thinking about finding that kitten and making it bite your hand—”

“It probably doesn’t hurt that much. Right, Father?”

“No, it hurt a lot,” Rosamund butted in.

“We’ll just get you a bandage, young man,” James added and looked up at his sister. “He likes animals—what can you do?”

“Get him a book.” Sophia smiled at him.

To no one’s surprise, James and Emily were adjusting amazingly to parenthood, even if little Oliver was proving to be a bit of a handful for an only child.

“Any particular reason our brother couldn’t make it?”

“The same reason Thomas’s brother couldn’t make it,” Sophia responded with a tired sigh. “There’s a really big horse race happening today, apparently.”

“Oh, but is there any other kind?” James chuckled.

“As long as they aren’t trying to kill each other, I’m happy.”

Emily walked up to them to join the conversation. “Your Grace, thank you for the marvelous dinner, as always.”

“Emily, how many times do I have to tell you? Please drop the titles with us. We already hear too much of it. At least when we are not in public.”

“Give her some time, Sophia,” James urged, putting his arm around his wife. “It took her five months to stop calling me ‘My Lord.’ And that was after we got married.”

Emily swallowed loudly. “I will give it a try… Sophia.”

“Thank you,” Sophia said and nodded.

Just then, Oliver tugged on his mother’s hand. “Mama, did you tell Aunt Sophia about the new baby?”

They all turned and stared at the boy with surprise.

“No… no, my darling, we haven’t,” Emily said with a sigh.

“We should tell her!” Oliver said excitedly.

“Yes, Oliver… we should…” James pressed his lips together lightly and looked at his sister. “We were going to tell you in time, but—”

“James, out of everyone in the whole of England, do you think I would be the one who stirs trouble due to a misunderstanding?” Sophia said with a smile. “Congratulations to both of you. Again.”

Not wanting to be left out, Rosamund pulled at Sophia’s skirt. “Is Uncle and Auntie having a baby again, Mama?”

“Yes, my dear. And it’s are. Are Uncle and Auntie having a baby. Maybe this one will be a girl!”

“Oh, thank goodness!” young Rosamund exclaimed with such sincerity that it elicited a series of chuckles from everyone.

“We don’t know yet, my dear. I said, maybe.”

Rosamund pursed her lips. “Well, I hope it is a girl. I can’t contend with any more brothers and cousins.”

***

Thomas found his wife in the library, sitting in the reading chair by the windowsill, in the exact position that had so entranced him five years ago. He stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring her, forgetting his exhaustion as the candlelight illuminated her beautiful face. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Have you come for inspiration?” she asked suddenly, raising her head.

He smiled. “Perhaps.”

“How many stories did Rosie ask for?”

“Too many.” Thomas laughed. “But she is sound asleep, and Penny has taken Matthew for the night.”

Sophia got up slowly and sauntered over to him.

“Are you ready to go to bed?” he asked her, rubbing his temple.

She slid her arms around his neck, slightly surprising him as she pressed herself against him, her eyes gleaming with a look he knew all too well. He held her in return, stroking his fingertips up and down the curve of her spine, letting them wander.

“Not yet,” she replied in a silky voice.

“Do you want to sleep in the library again, to reminisce?”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind reminiscing.”

“Would you, indeed?”

“Is there a problem with that, Your Grace?”

Thomas bit his lip. “There will never be a problem with anything my wife says or wants. And that’s the end of that.” He scooped her up in his arms. “And since you asked so very nicely…”

He kissed her deeply and carried her over to the bookcases, eager to relive a memory he had thought of so very often—the beginning of them, in many ways.

***

Sophia watched her husband sleeping in the reading chair, and her soul swelled with joy. She wouldn’t need to worry anymore. She didn’t need to. They had each other. They were going to live a long, happy, and peaceful life together.

As she poured herself a glass of water, her gaze turned to the somewhat garish portrait for which Rosamund had been compelled to pose for hours. The old woman made no secret of her dislike for posing for paintings, but Thomas had asked it as a favor, and there was nothing his grandmother would have denied him.

Honestly, it didn’t look that bad, but the color choices were peculiar, as if the portraitist had temporarily lost the ability to decipher his palette, throwing any color on the canvas. But Sophia didn’t mind. If anything, it amused her, and she knew that Rosamund had thought it was perfect, so who was she to argue?

Padding over to the painting, she read the inscription at the bottom.

For all her sacrifice, for preserving the truth, and for showing us the way to peace. We will remember you forever, Rosamund Pratt.

***

A soft breeze blew through Heathcote Manor. Sophia cuddled up in her husband’s arms in the bed they shared, having decided that the library was, in fact, no place for a duke and duchess to sleep. Though not because of reputation, but because the floor was too hard, the reading chair was too small, and their bed was utter perfection.

The curtains fluttered on the wind, the leaves of the trees outside rustling like phantom whispers. Sophia listened, not hearing ghosts but the peace of their home, content in the knowledge that no more of their own would be born to hate. They would know only love instead.

The dead were finally resting in peace, and the living would live…

Well, of course…

Happily ever after.

The End.