Five years later…

 

The mornings at Stormhaven had a softness to them that Evelina had not thought possible for such a large house. Sunlight spilled across the dining room in pale gold bands, catching on silvers of teapots, the rims of porcelain cups, and the polished backs of chairs drawn close about the long table.

Outside, the lawns still glimmered faintly with dew, and beyond them the gardens waited in a hush of green and white, as though the day itself had not yet fully decided what pleasures it meant to offer.

Inside, however, there was no uncertainty at all. The room was alive with voices, with laughter, with the comfortable stir of family and chosen family gathered under one roof.

Adrian and Eleanor sat together near the window, their new baby, Diana, cradled between them in a wicker basket lined with soft linen. Every few minutes, one or the other bent instinctively to adjust a blanket or brush a fingertip over the infant’s cheek, as though neither could resist confirming that such happiness was real.

They formed quite the family, and Evelina was happy that she had witnessed their story from the start. She turned her head to the other side of the room and observed her brother and his wife.

Felix, newly married and looking entirely too pleased with his own good fortune to conceal it, occupied the place opposite Adrian with his wife beside him, both of them flushed with the ease of guests who had already been made to feel at home.

This is what life is supposed to feel like.

Evelina watched from across the room with a light heart.

“The tea is quite lovely,” Felix’s wife said peacefully as she sipped from her cup. Her long blonde hair had been braided into an intricate bun, and her brilliant blue eyes shone wonderfully with the light of newlywed bliss. She was a slight woman with a brilliant character, and Evelina absolutely adored her.

Aunt Augusta sat peacefully in a chair near Felix and his wife with five-year-old Alfred on her lap. The boy was the spitting image of his father, yet Evelina liked to think that he had her character.

“If we are discussing the day’s amusements,” Aunt Augusta announced, settling Alfred more firmly upon her lap, “I must insist that no one involve me in anything requiring speed, mud, or unnecessary heroism.”

“Then riding is out,” Felix said gravely.

“Entirely,” Augusta replied. “At my age, anyone who gallops ought to have a witness and a physician waiting at the end of the lane.”

Adrian laughed, glancing down as the baby gave a sudden squeak from her basket. “That is exactly the tone Eleanor uses whenever I suggest anything more adventurous than a walk to the rose garden.”

“Because your definition of ‘adventurous’ has already once included a stream, a fallen gate, and a broken boot,” Eleanor said.

“A splendid afternoon,” Adrian protested.

“For you,” Felix’s wife said, smiling over her teacup. “The boot was yours.”

Even Alfred, who understood only that the room had grown merry, began to giggle.

Evelina hid her own laughter behind her hand while Ambrose, with the solemnity of a magistrate pronouncing sentence, said, “Very well. The household is divided. The brave may ride, the wise may read, and Aunt Augusta may command the fire as if it were a conquered kingdom.”

The rest of breakfast continued with relative ease as Evelina and Ambrose watched their family enjoy a wonderful morning together.

It was much later in the day when they found themselves alone in the stables with Alfred. The boy had been refusing to ride, and Evelina felt as if the day would finally be the one when she convinced him to sit in a saddle.

“You can do it, Alfred, just a little more, the pony will not bite.” Evelina used her most encouraging voice as she held his wriggling little body toward the saddle.

Standing on the other side, Ambrose held out his arms. “Come to Papa?” he attempted to coax his son.

Little Alfred looked utterly terrified as he turned back to his mother and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Evelina quickly realized that nothing they could say would convince the boy, so she placed him on the ground and hunkered down beside him. “I will tell you what…If you try and sit on the pony, then Papa and I will allow you to have a second helping of cake at tea later. How does that sound?”

Alfred glanced up at her, his large eyes shimmering with hope that quickly disappeared when he looked back at the chestnut pony.

Ambrose sighed and moved around the pony, coming to Evelina’s side as he, too, hunkered down beside her. He reached up and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Do you remember how you told me that you wished to ride Hector?” Ambrose glanced to the stall behind him where the black-and-white dappled horse stood proudly in the stall between his parents.

Nodding, Alfred scarcely looked up as he opened and closed his mouth while fidgeting with his little grey coat.

“Well, if you wish to ride someday like Mama and Papa, then you will have to learn how to ride.” He reached up and petted the pony on the side. “See, Lily is a sweet girl, and Mama and I will be beside you every step of the way. Would you like to be a big boy and try to ride?”

Alfred seemed more certain this time as he nodded, his dark hair flopping to the side.

Ambrose beamed with pride. “Then you will have to allow Mama to place you in the saddle.”

“You help me,” Alfred suddenly said.

Glancing up at Evelina, Ambrose smiled triumphantly.

Evelina glared at him, pretending to be upset, before her lips curved into a smile.

Coming to his feet, Ambrose placed his hands under his son’s arms and hoisted him into the air before placing him firmly in the saddle.

He was startled at first, but Alfred quickly seemed to get the hang of things as he gripped the saddle tight and allowed his father to place a hand behind his back. “I am ready,” he announced shakily.

Ambrose nodded once before urging the pony forward and keeping his free hand on Alfred’s back.

“Wait!” Alfred suddenly shouted and reached for his mother.

Hurrying forward, Evelina quickly came to his side. “What is the matter?” She looked him over, but could find no fault.

Looking up with a trembling lip, Alfred pleaded with her. “You stay by me as well, please.” His chubby little fists gripped the edge of the saddle until his knuckles began to turn white.

A rush of warmth flooded Evelina’s chest as she stood beside the pony and placed one hand on the saddle. “Are you ready now?”

The boy nodded, although his breath seemed to catch in his chest.

“On three,” Evelina said gently. “One, two, and three…” She urged the pony forward as gently as she could, making sure to keep an eye on Alfred and his position in the saddle.

Bright light suddenly surrounded them all as the pony walked from the barn and into the sun. The warmth kissed their faces, welcoming them as a reminder of a job well done.

“I am riding!” Alfred suddenly blurted out when the pony rounded a bend.

“Keep your hands on the saddle!” Ambrose cautioned when it seemed as if Alfred had grown too excited.

Concentration marred the child’s face as he once again gripped the saddle, allowing his parents to lead him into a paddock where they went around in a few circles. “Again!” Alfred screamed with joy when they stopped in front of a gate.

Evelina laughed heartily as she lifted him from the saddle and brought him to her hip. “Tomorrow, it is almost time for your tea, but Mama is proud of you!” She tickled his chubby little neck.

Looking at them both with a great deal of love in his eyes, Ambrose beamed with pride when his son pouted after laughing at the tickles. “Your mother is right, young man, you can ride again tomorrow, but for now, you must return to your nanny.” He took Alfred from his mother’s arms and handed him off to Ester, who had come to fetch him.

“I shall see to it that he goes straight to his nanny,” Ester said sweetly as she placed him on his feet and took his little hand in hers.

Coming to Ambrose’s side, Evelina slipped her arm around his waist and placed her head on his shoulder as she watched her son leave. “I think we did well today.”

Ambrose pulled her closer. “I think we did, and not just today.” He smiled down at her.

For a little while, they remained where they were, saying nothing, as the late afternoon sunlight spread in long amber bars across the yard and turned the pony’s chestnut coat to gold. From somewhere beyond the stables came the distant sound of laughter. Felix’s, perhaps, or Adrian’s, carried on the mild breeze from the house. It mingled with the softer noises near at hand: a horse shifting in its stall, the clink of tack, the murmur of a groom closing up for the evening.

Evelina breathed it all in, the warmth of the day, the smell of hay and leather, the solid comfort of Ambrose beside her, and thought that there had once been a time when she had not believed such peace could last. Now it seemed woven into the very fabric of her life. “Did you see his face when he realized he was moving?” Evelina asked at last, smiling up at him.

“As if he had been handed the reins to the world.” Ambrose gave a low laugh. “I saw yours as well.”

“Mine?” “You looked exactly as proud as if he had crossed a hunting field alone.” His hand came up to smooth back a strand of hair the breeze had loosened from her bonnet. “Though I confess I was proud enough for all three of us. He was frightened, and yet he tried. There is something to be said for that.”

Evelina’s gaze followed the path Alfred had taken with Ester. “He asked for us both,” she said softly. “I liked that.”

“So did I,” Ambrose admitted. “It appears our son has already formed the sensible opinion that life is best managed with his mother on one side and his father on the other.”

She laughed, then turned her face toward the house, where the windows of Stormhaven were beginning to glow against the lengthening shadows. “I suppose by now Aunt Augusta has settled herself triumphantly by the drawing-room fire, Eleanor is pretending she does not need rest, Adrian is pretending to believe her, and Felix is almost certainly telling his wife that he could have ridden better at five.”

“Felix,” Ambrose said gravely, “has never in his life resisted the temptation to improve upon the truth.”

“No,” Evelina agreed, smiling. “But he improves it with such sincerity that one is almost charmed into forgiveness.”

The thought of them all together beneath one roof, family by blood, by marriage, by friendship, and by long-earned affection, sent another deep ripple of contentment through her. Stormhaven no longer felt like a grand house she inhabited. It felt alive with all the people she loved, enlarged by their presence until every room seemed fuller, warmer, more itself.

Turning toward him, she held him close. “You know, if I look back now, I wish that you had walked right into that parlor and kissed me in front of everyone. I hate the fact that we wasted precious time finding one another at the start.”

“I do not,” Ambrose answered with a smile. “I think that everything happened exactly as it should have.”

Evelyn tilted her head to the side as she looked up at him with an answering smile. He bent his head down and took his wife’s lips with his own, and they enjoyed their stolen moment of solitude.