Surrendering to a Lady’s Touch – Extended Epilogue

Cornwall must have been his destiny all along. The small country estate that John had built was perfect for their family, what with one small girl named Abigail and another little one on the way. He had never seen Margaret so happy in her new life. There was a marvelous garden which she would tend to, and as she did so, belly ripe, John admired her from a window, considering what a lucky man he truly was. 

The transition back to Cornwall had been seamless, and Margaret agreed to it because she wished to be by the sea. What’s more, John returned to the dock to become a manager, something that he did not have to do financially, but he chose to do because he enjoyed working with his hands. 

Since Margaret would give birth at any moment, John took a break from the dock so that he could give his wife all his attention, as well as baby Abigail, who was delightfully precocious and just as beautiful as her mother. John did not know if the next child would be a boy or a girl, and to him, it mattered not. So long as his family was safe and happy, John was open to anything. 

“Papa,” Abigail said, tugging on the leg of his trousers. “I am hungry.”

Smiling broadly, John scooped her up into his strong arms and said, “Let us see if your mama is hungry, as well.”

He carried Abigail out into the sunshine, watching as Margaret stood up straight, brought a hand to her back, and winced. 

“You should rest yourself,” John said, concern in his voice. 

“But the bright sunshine and fresh air is good for our little one,” Margaret replied, bringing a hand to her belly. “Besides, these herbs need to be picked so that I might incorporate them in our supper.”

“I told you that I would make supper if you were fatigued.”

Margaret cocked her head to the side. “You do not have to do everything all the time, John. I can manage.”

He said with mock-sternness, “I shall not let you merely manage. And I want to do everything. You can be so stubborn, you beautiful woman.”

This caused Abigail to laugh, then bring her thumb to her mouth. Margaret stepped in and played with Abigail’s hair. “My little girl, are you having fun today?”

“I am hungry,” Abigail confided. “And I want a nap.”

Both Margaret and John laughed. “Then I suppose that we should go inside for tea and then have ourselves a nap!”

As they returned to the estate, John held Abigail in one arm and held Margaret’s hand with the other. Never had he been so contented in all of his life. John was finally the man he always wished to be, and he could not ask for a better family. 

Once inside, John set Abigail down and watched as she ran around the hearth whilst Margaret prepared the tea. Again, he observed his wife, delighting in her beauty which seemed to grow with each passing day. 

“What are you thinking?” Margaret asked. 

“That I am the luckiest man in the world.”

Margaret smiled. “And I’m the luckiest woman. Just as soon as this child is brought into the world, I will feel light as air!”

“You already are as light as air in my eyes.”

Margaret rolled her eyes. “I am the size of a house.”

“Then that is the house that I call home.” John stepped in and kissed his wife softly and passionately. His desire for her had not abated since the first child and now the second. If she wished to have ten children, John would be able to provide them for her. Whatever Margaret wanted, she would have. His body and soul belonged to her. There was no question of that. 

“Not in front of Abigail,” Margaret said, placing a hand on his chest. 

“I cannot help myself.”

“You beast,” she teased softly. 

As Margaret returned to the tea, John could not help but say, “I am most excited to see Jane again.”

“Oh, John, I am overjoyed. It has been so long, and I hope that they stay for as long as they like.”

John nodded in agreement. It was most encouraging that Jane had finally found love. Her employer in London fell in love with her, and although Jane was resistant at first, she finally accepted his love and left her post as a maid to become the wife of a baron. They were coming that very night, as was Viscount Bolton, who had been sober for years. 

“We shall have a marvelous family reunion,” John said with glee. “It will be nice to have everyone under our roof.”

“Father wishes to stay until the baby arrives. He wants to help,” Margaret noted. 

John huffed. Although he liked the strong bond between Margaret and the viscount, he wanted his family all to himself. He did not need the viscount’s help. But still, if the grandfather wanted to be present, then so be it, if it made Margaret happy. 

“I can get him a job down at the dock,” John teased. 

Margaret rolled her eyes once more. “He may be sober, but he is not strong. Father is getting on in years.”

“And Jane? Do you think that she will have a large family?” John asked, hoping that his children might have other children to play with. 

“She said in her letters that she does wish for a family. Oh, John! You do not know how happy it makes me to see her so contented. She has finally become herself—I can sense it in her letters. When she is joyful, I am joyful. Now, she is truly my sister!”

“And she loves you unconditionally. She always has,” John assured her. 

Once tea was prepared, the family sat at their customary table, and both parents delighted in Abigail’s hunger as she ate her sandwiches with relish. “Abigail, do not eat too fast,” Margaret admonished playfully. 

“But I am still hungry!”

“That is a good thing,” John commented. “You need to be big and strong to defend yourself against all the men that shall fall in love with you,” he added gravely. But in truth, that was not something Abigail would ever have to worry about, for he had the mind never to let her leave the house, lest he need to employ his rifle. 

Despite his protective nature, John knew that he would have to afford Abigail the same freedom that his wife was denied until she married him. He would never keep Abigail in a cage, for he saw clearly the damage that this caused Margaret. Like his wife, all that John wished for his daughter was true happiness, which would mean having to let go… eventually. 

Once tea concluded, Margaret took Abigail by the hand and led her to her room, where she would assist in putting her down. 

It troubled John that Margaret did not wish for many servants. She said that she enjoyed performing all of these tasks by herself, but John had the mind to hire staff anyhow if only to allow Margaret to rest more often. But the size of the estate being what it was, they could manage many things on their own.

“I shall be right back,” Margaret assured him from the top of the stairs. 

“I shall be here, patiently waiting.”

It did not take long for the task to be done, and Margaret returned, massaging the back of her neck. “Abigail will sleep for an hour, I imagine.”

“Come, be seated,” John said, getting up and pulling out Margaret’s chair. She seated herself, and John came behind her to massage her shoulders. As he did so, she softly moaned, and John loved watching his wife in rapture. 

“I can do this all day if you wish,” John said, leaning down and kissing her shoulder.

“No, there is so much to do in preparation for Jane’s arrival and my father’s.”

“Allow me to take care of all of that.”

Margaret tilted up her head, asking for a kiss, which John performed with affection. “Why are you so wonderful?” Margaret asked. 

“Because I am deeply and madly in love with you, and I always will be.”

“I do not know what I did in this life to deserve you.”

“You exist. That was enough for me.”

“Come, it is time for my nap. I do feel fatigued from working in the garden.”

John helped Margaret up and led her up the stairs, where they quietly passed Abigail’s room, trying not to wake her. Once inside their room, John helped Margaret to the bed where she lay on her side. He came around behind her, pressing his chest against her back and cupping his arm around her belly. John felt his wife’s breathing, as well as his baby’s kicking. 

“John, you make me feel so safe,” Margaret said, almost in a whisper.

“That is my one task in life, my love.”

“Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?” Margaret asked as John massaged her belly. 

“What do you hope for?”

“Do you know, I think that I wish for a boy. Abigail brings me so much joy, and I shall help her through all the struggles of being a woman, but if there’s a boy, you can help him to become a fine gentleman.”

“He would most certainly be a fine gentleman,” John assured her. “He would love and respect the woman that God brings into his life.”

“What made you such a good man?” Margaret asked, turning her face towards him. “I am told that it is very rare.”

John considered his wife’s question. “I think that you make me into the man that I am,” he finally replied. “You inspired goodness in me. Oh, I had the mind to wander for the rest of my days, but you provoked me to want to be a strong man, a husband, and father.”

“I suppose it was merely my dreadful position which provoked you to do so. It brought out the heroics in you.”

John could not help but smile. “There is truth to that, but you would have inspired me without the compromising situation. You inspire me every day.”

Margaret turned on her other side so that she was facing John. She gave him a gentle kiss upon the chin, which send a flood of warmth through his body. But despite this sweetness, John was still a man, and having his beautiful wife lying beside him looking radiant was too much to bear. 

But still, he knew that Margaret was in physical discomfort, so he did not propose what he desperately wanted. There would be plenty of time for that. Margaret curled up into his arms, and John softly petted her hair, loving the smoothness. Within moments, she was fast asleep, and John swelled with pride. Yes, she felt safe and protected in his arms, just as she should be. There was nothing for her to fear any longer… not when John was near. 

Although he wished to remain in that bed for the rest of the day, there were preparations to be made, and John did not wish for Margaret to have to tend to it all. He slowly crept down the stairs, trying not to wake his two girls, and John went to the hearth, where he began the roast lamb for that evening’s dinner. John mused about many things as he undertook this task. He said a little prayer to the Lord, thanking him for the bounty of happiness that he provided. He thought of his sister and how happy he was that she had finally found love.

Just then, John felt a tear come to his eye as he thought of these things. John was never the kind of man to cry, but since marrying Margaret, he found himself more imbued with emotion than ever before. He was full and complete, and this was all thanks to the love of his wife. 

John pushed aside the tear, continuing with the preparations for supper. 

***

Despite the heaviness in her middle and the endless back pain, Margaret could not be happier as she gazed around the table at her father, Jane, and Jane’s betrothed, Lord Eric Lane. Although, in private, Margaret would tease Jane for becoming the future Lady Jane Lane! 

The supper that John had prepared was sumptuous, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, engaging in light conversation. 

“When I first met him, I could not believe my eyes,” Jane said, gazing at Eric. “I thought that he was ever so handsome, but I was rather beneath him.”

“You were never beneath me,” Eric said, taking Jane’s hand. 

Margaret smiled to herself. They were very much in love. It was so obvious and so pleasing. John reached over and took her own hand, then her father said, “Everyone around this table is in love,” he bemoaned. 

“There is still time for you, Father. So much has changed in your life.”

The viscount sighed. “I have had my one great love. That business is done.”

“You mustn’t say that,” John added. “Love can come at any age, I was just lucky enough to find mine early in life.” He looked at Margaret, who felt a flush come to her cheek.

“No, I could never betray my late wife,” the viscount went on. “I am not like Lord Darkmoor. I cannot move on in the manner that he has.”

“Darkmoor is married?” Margaret asked in shock.

The viscount nodded. “He has taken a bride with a large dowry to amend his own debts. What a treacherous man he was, but then again, so was I at the time.”

Margaret brought a hand to her chest. Yes, it was highly satisfying to see her father so amended, and she did hope that he could find someone to love him for the remarkable man he had become in the future. But considering that he would be spending a considerable amount of time in Cornwall, tending to the grandkids, Margaret considered that it would take some effort for him to find someone. 

As the meal continued, John leaned over and whispered into Margaret’s ear, “I love you desperately.”

“I love you in kind,” Margaret replied. 

Just then, she reminded herself that it was time to check on Abigail, who was already asleep in her room. “If you will excuse me,” Margaret said, rising from the table. 

“Let me do it,” John insisted. 

“No, no. She will want to see me,” Margaret replied warmly, making her way to the stairs. Once she was in Abigail’s room, she noted that her little daughter slept soundly. Margaret leaned down and gave her daughter a little kiss upon the forehead. 

“I love you, baby girl.”

With that, she slowly and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her. Returning to her guests, Margaret sighed. There was that love and affection in John’s gaze, Jane was beaming, and her father was content sitting there without a glass of wine in front of him. 

Seating herself once more, John asked, “Was everything all right?”

“All right as could be. She was sound asleep.”

“And the other one?” John asked humorously, placing a loving hand upon her belly. 

“This little one is restless, I am afraid. But it shall pass.”

 Eric said, “I should like to purchase a country estate, much like this one. I want Jane to be near to you, for I know that it shall make her happy.”

“That would be marvelous!” Jane exclaimed. “It would make me very happy, indeed.”

“Then it shall be done,” Eric assured her. 

Margaret clapped her hands together in glee. “Oh, Jane. You can watch the children grow, and perhaps… have some of your own.”

“I do want some,” Jane said joyfully. “I want several, in fact.”

Eric leaned in and kissed Jane upon the cheek, which caused Margaret to smile in satisfaction. It reminded her of John—how he did not fear displaying his affection in public. 

Since they were wed, and since they had moved to Cornwall, Margaret and John were entirely free with one another. Whenever they wanted to be intimate, they did so, and often this happened multiple times a day! Of course, that was before Abigail’s arrival. Since then, they had to be judicious about their lovemaking. But that sense of freedom and rapture remained. 

Supper concluded, and the guests retired to the parlor, where they continued to chat. Margaret took a moment to go outside and admire her garden under the moonlight. It was not long before John joined her, embracing her from behind and placing both hands upon her midsection. He nuzzled his face in her neck. “The evening was a success.”

“I believe so. Jane looks so wonderfully happy.”

“And I am happy for her,” John remarked. “Eric is a good man. He shall treat her like a queen.”

“Just as you treat me like a queen,” Margaret added. 

“My treatment of you is not even an indication of my true affections. If I could do more, I would.”

“You could not possibly do more. You do everything. I have everything that I need in life.”

“And that shall never change.”

“No, I do not anticipate that it will.”

Margaret turned and brought her lips to John’s, and he kissed her passionately, intently, and hungrily. Once he pulled away, his voice strangled, John said, “I enjoy our guests, but I do wish that I could have you all to myself this evening.”

“There is plenty of time for that, my love,” Margaret replied, bringing a hand to his smooth cheek. “We have all the time in the world.”

THE END

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