The Duke’s Sinful Bride (Vows of Sin #5)

Extended Epilogue

Three Years Later

“Good morning, my love,” Killian’s smooth voice murmured as his lips brushed Yvette’s forehead, trailing down to her nose and cheek.

She stirred, a faint smile tugging at her lips as the warmth of his presence lingered on her cheek. But before his lips could capture hers, Yvette’s eyes fluttered open to the reality of an empty bed.

Her smile faded as she stared at the rumpled sheets beside her. The memory of Killian’s voice echoed in her mind, a bittersweet reminder of the man who had once been there.

In the years following the birth of their son, Christian, Killian had become a prominent figure in court, his duties pulling him away from Braemore and, inevitably, from her.

The distance had started slowly, with short trips to London, but it grew as his responsibilities expanded. Months ago, Yvette had received a letter from Killian, requesting her presence in London before he set sail for the Americas.

Yvette had been shocked by this news, and though the letter had been brief, she could sense the urgency in his words. Without hesitation, she packed up Maisie and Christian, and left for London.

Upon arriving at Oakbourne townhouse about six days later, she was met with the bittersweet reality that truly, Killian was to travel to the Americas. He had already finalized his travel preparations and was due to leave within hours.

Their reunion had been fleeting, a single night spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

It had been tender, passionate, and full of promises. But when Yvette awoke the next morning, she found only the lingering scent of him and a carefully folded letter on the pillow.

By the time you read this, I will already be on the ship, my love. Know that my heart remains with you, always.

The words haunted her, leaving an ache that grew with every passing day.

She had stayed in London with her brother Edward and Fiona nearby. As well as the distractions of the city, Yvette thought she could endure the separation, but no amount of company or entertainment could fill the void left by Killian’s absence.

Nights were the hardest. She would lie awake, replaying the last night they spent together or imagining what it would feel like to wake up beside him again.

Pushing the thoughts away, Yvette rang for her maid. She could not afford to wallow.

Georgiana, Fiona, and her new friend, Lady Penelope, whom she had met though Georgiana, had promised to arrange a small celebration in her honor—a way to lift her spirits as she prepared to welcome her third child. Truly, that last night with Killian had resulted in another pregnancy.

As Daisy—Yvette had brought her along—fastened the delicate buttons of her pale blue gown, Yvette’s hand instinctively rested on her rounded belly.

The child growing inside her was a miracle, a piece of Killian that remained with her even in his absence. She had discovered her pregnancy only weeks after he left, and she had written to him immediately, eager to share the joyous news. But as the months passed without a reply, her excitement was replaced by an unsettling worry.

What if something has happened to him?

Yvette had voiced her concerns to Edward and Fiona, who had done their best to reassure her that letters from the Americas often took months to arrive. It didn’t mean he was in danger.

But no matter how logical their reasoning, Yvette could not silence the growing fear in her heart.

Edward had wasted no time in hiring the best midwife in London for Yvette, ensuring she would be in the most capable hands, and Fiona had moved into Oakbourne Townhouse with her lively two-year-old son, Richard.

Their presence brought some comfort, and Yvette often found herself laughing at Richard’s and Christian’s antics, but her longing for Killian remained constant.

Georgiana and Lady Penelope frequently visited, their cheerful chatter filling the townhouse with life.

With her family and friends around her, Yvette felt supported, but the ache of Killian’s absence was a void nothing could fill.

“Shall I prepare the parlor for the ladies, Your Grace?” Daisy asked as she pinned a few loose curls into place.

“Yes, thank you, Daisy,” Yvette replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil beneath. “And have the cook bring out the cakes and tea when they arrive.”

The maid curtsied and left, leaving Yvette to gaze out of the window. Somewhere out there, Killian was building a legacy, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he thought of her as often as she thought of him.

A knock at the door broke her reverie, and moments later, Maisie burst into the room, as she went to Yvette’s side.

Maisie had grown into a fine young lady, who looked just like her father, and was joined to Yvette by the hip. Not that Yvette minded. Of anything, she preferred it.

“Mama, Aunt Georgiana is here!” Maisie announced, her voice bright with excitement.

Yvette smiled and nodded.

“Well, we mustn’t keep her waiting, must we?”

Maisie smiled and took Yvette’s hand, assisting her toward the parlor where Georgiana, Fiona, and Lady Penelope and their families awaited. The three women greeted her warmly, their expressions one of joy as they took in her appearance.

“Yvette, darling,” Georgiana said, embracing her tightly. “You look radiant, as always.”

“Radiant and exhausted you mean,” Fiona added with a teasing smile, and Yvette smiled, nodding. Only Fiona would know the extent of how exhausted Yvette was.

“But who can blame you? You’ve been strong through it all.”

Yvette chuckled this time, grateful for her friends.

“I couldn’t have done it without all of you,” she admitted. “Truly, your support means the world to me.”

Lady Penelope handed her a small gift box, with a smile of her own.

“Just a little something to brighten your day,” she said with a wink, and Yvette giggled as she took it.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, intricately engraved with floral designs. Yvette’s eyes filled with tears as she ran her fingers over the surface.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, “Thank you.”

The day passed in preparations for the small celebration, and by late afternoon, it had begun.

The room was breathtaking. The decorations matched the theme of a baby celebration perfectly, with soft pastel hues and garlands of flowers draped elegantly along the walls.

The effort her friends had put into creating this moment of joy was evident, and for the first time in weeks, Yvette felt a genuine smile spread across her face.

She was speaking with Lady Penelope and Georgiana when a sharp jolt of pain coursed through her abdomen.

Her breath hitched, and she froze, her hand instinctively going to her belly.

Another wave of pain followed, sharper this time.

“Yvette, are you all right?” Lady Penelope asked, concern etched on her face.

Yvette’s wide eyes met hers, and she whispered, “I think the baby is coming.”

Commotion erupted as the women sprang into action. Orders were shouted, and within minutes, Yvette was upstairs in her room, her party dress replaced with a loose gown more suitable for labor.

The midwife and her assistants bustled around, preparing for the delivery, while Fiona and Georgiana hovered nearby, offering words of comfort.

But tears streamed down Yvette’s face, flowing together with the sweat on her brow.

“He’s not here,” she whispered brokenly. “Killian’s not here.”

As another contraction wracked her body, Yvette clenched the sheets, her heart aching more than her body.

And then she heard it—a voice so familiar, so deeply missed that it made her heart stop.

“I’m here, my love.”

She thought she was hallucinating, but then she felt the warmth of his hands on hers. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and there he was—Killian, her husband, her anchor.

“I’ve returned, my love,” he said softly, his face etched with concern and guilt.

Before she could respond, another wave of pain hit her, and the midwife’s firm voice cut through the moment. “Your Grace, you’ll need to step out. The duchess needs to focus.”

Killian hesitated, his gaze locked on Yvette’s tear-streaked face. She managed a faint smile and whispered, “Go, Killian. I’ll be all right.”

Reluctantly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping out of the room.

***

Hours later, the cries of a newborn filled the air. Yvette, exhausted but elated, held her tiny daughter in her arms. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the little bundle, her heart swelling with love.

Killian was by her side in an instant.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, brushing a finger over the baby’s soft cheek.

Yvette looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “You’re here,” she said simply, her voice thick with emotion.

Killian cupped her face, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry for not returning sooner. I should never have left you for so long.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he whispered, “Splendid job ye did, Duchess.”

Yvette laughed softly, her heart full as Killian wrapped his arms around her and their newborn daughter.

For the first time in months, everything felt right again.

The End.