To Have and to Hold (Finders Keepers #4)

Epilogue

Four years later

Percy crossed his legs as he watched Cecily take her place in front of the pianoforte, her stomach rounded with child, and three-year-old Lavinia Somerville climbing up onto the seat beside her.

“Here,” Cecily said, showing their daughter where to put her fingers on the keys. “Now press gently. Gently, now. There you go, darling.”

Lavinia, reddish gold curls tumbling down her back, grinned at her mother. Cecily smiled back, smoothing Lavinia’s riotous hair from her face. “Sing with Papa,” Lavinia commanded.

Percy stretched his legs out before him. “Do you not want to sing, Lavinia? You and Mama could sing together.”

Lavinia pouted. “I like it when you sing.”

Cecily raised her brows at Percy. “The general has commanded it.”

“I had no clue our lives would be so dictated by such a small being,” he grumbled, but he ruffled Lavinia’s hair as he came to stand behind them, undoing Cecily’s tidying. For all his complaining, he lived for these quiet moments, the ones after dinner and before Nurse came in to take Lavinia to bed. When it could be just the three of them—soon to be four—and they sang or read together. Already, Lavinia showed an inclination towards music, and once she began learning properly, she would be very talented. He suspected at least some of that came from all the times Cecily had cradled her and sang endless lullabies.

“What should we sing?” Cecily asked Lavinia.

“Something pretty.”

Percy rifled through the pieces until he found Robin Adair , placing the piece before Cecily. She cast him a quick, appreciative glance that told him she had also not forgotten the first time they had ever sung together. Once, she had told him that it had marked the first time she began thinking of him in a different light, although those particular feelings had not come to fruition until several years afterwards.

For him, he could pinpoint the moment he understood the depths of his feelings to the first time he heard her sing. When her eyes had gone distant, and her voice had rung out, rich and sweet and flowing like a bubbling spring. She’d lost herself to the music, longing and passion a tangible thing inside her, and he had known then that she meant more to him than he had ever initially intended.

Of course, then he had not known that he would marry her; he’d assumed that his infatuation would pass. He should have known better.

Now, every time he heard her sing, it reminded him of how wrong he had been—and how much more he adored her now.

Lavinia put her chubby fingers against the keys and played a few notes, presumably in encouragement. Cecily laughed, and began to play. Just like that first time, he joined her, matching her voice with his. An elegant dance of sorts, his harmony wrapping around her melody, and she smiled the way she had that very first time.

Beside them both, Lavinia joined in, her sweet little voice following her mother’s. Percy put his arms around them both. His family. How fortunate he was to have finally found the happiness he had always been searching for.

One day, when Lavinia was old enough to be married herself, perhaps she might sing to her future husband and attract his attention that way.

“There now,” Nurse said from the doorway when they finished the song. “I believe it’s time for your bed, Miss Lavinia. As for you, my lady. If I may say so, it’s time for you to retire as well before you tire yourself out.”

Cecily leant back against Percy, and he rested his hands against her shoulders. “I’ll go up presently.”

“Very good, my lady.” Nurse turned her attention to Lavinia, who had already hopped down and seemed intent on fleeing to avoid her bedtime. “Now don’t you try that with me, Miss Lavinia. You know my old bones can’t take hunting for you under whatever chair you’ve hidden under this time.”

“Lavinia,” Percy said warningly. “Do as Nurse says, please.”

His daughter huffed, jutting her bottom lip out in a parody of dismay. But she must have been more tired that she wanted to admit, because she didn’t object to Nurse scooping her up, and instead rested her head against Nurse’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me a bedtime story?” she asked as they left the room.

The door closed, but not before Percy could make out the answering, “Of course, Miss Lavinia.”

Cecily sighed, her hands coming to cup her stomach. “I am a little tired.”

“Then we’ll retire.” Bending, he picked her up, scooping her into his arms and carrying her out of the room.

“Stop! You’ll drop me!”

“I may have a few years on you, but there’s no chance of that happening.”

She laughed, looping her arms around his neck. “Ever the romantic.”

“If it’s romantic to tuck my wife into bed and ensure she has something hot to drink, then I suppose I am.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Percy. You must know that’s extremely romantic.” She sighed, nuzzling her face into his neck. “Whoever told me that bearing children would be the greatest gift on earth, I am convinced, never went through the trials of pregnancy.”

“It won’t be long now.”

“Ah yes, until that far lesser trial of childbirth.” She glanced up at him, eyes soft and warm with amusement. “I suppose it’s a good thing that Lavinia is such a sweet, easygoing child, or I might think it’s all for naught.”

“If I could take that pain away from you, I would.”

“I know. And I would freely give it.” She giggled. “Alas, it’s my burden to bear.”

They reached his bedchamber, and he placed her carefully on the bed. There, he unlaced her shoes and she sighed with relief. Her ankles had swollen, and with her first confinement, she’d been self-conscious of all these changes. As though he could ever have loved her less for the ways her body changed—as though he ever allowed himself to forget what a miracle this was.

So bent and kissed her swollen ankles. “You are beautiful,” he told her.

“I feel like a whale.” She lay back, staring at the ceiling. “My mother wrote again today.”

He paused his massage of her feet. “What did she say?”

“She requested to see Lavinia again, and to stay for the birth of this one.” She traced her fingers across her stomach again. “I suppose she thinks that as you are a man, you’re incapable of supporting me.”

“Well, that’s hardly an assumption you need to concern yourself with.” He resumed his massage. “I distinctly recall you informing me last time that I could not, under any circumstances, leave you. I had to use the chamber pot on more than one occasion.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking past her bump at him. “You didn’t tell me you had to use the chamber pot.”

“My darling, you were in labour for half the night. I am still only human.” He kissed the side of her calf. “And I would do it all again.”

“Good. I have no intention of allowing my mother to replace you.” She shuddered. “I told her no.”

“Good.”

“And I said that she could next see Lavinia when we are both in London, and only if Lavinia agrees.”

If Percy had his way, he would have cut the woman out of their lives entirely. But for Cecily, even this marked a huge turning point in their relationship. After Lavinia had been born, she’d found it within herself to deny her mother the things which her mother thought were her right.

And he, keeping his personal thoughts to himself, encouraged her in whichever ways he could.

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

Cecily’s eyes fluttered closed. “I want our children to have a different life than the one I had growing up. She might be my mother, but she could be cruel.”

Percy only stretched himself out beside her. “I know. But you’ve broken the cycle. Our children will be happy and loved. Now then, shall I get you out of this dress?”

“I think I may be a little too tired for that,” she mumbled.

“I prefer to bed my wife when she is conscious and able to enjoy it, you ridiculous woman.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Come now. I’ll call for a bath. Then you can have a glass of hot milk and go to bed.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right here, my darling. Until the very end of my days.”

A small smile ghosted across her lips, even though her eyes never opened. “I love you, you know.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” He stared into the soft, relaxed face of his wife, wondering how he could ever fully comprehend all the multitude of ways in which he was the luckiest man on earth—and how incredibly fortunate he was that this delicate, sweet wisp of a woman loved him in return. “I love you, too.”