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Benedict stood on the terrace of their country estate with the morning sun warming the stone beneath his boots. The sun was shining brightly across the gardens as birds called from the hedgerows, their voices sharp and bright in the quiet hillside. The scent of early roses carried through the air, and a faint breeze moved the leaves of the ivy along the terrace.
He took a deep breath as he looked around, his gaze happily landing on the sight of his beloved Bella seated beneath the oak tree with their daughter, Amelia, comfortably resting in her lap.
Bella’s skirts spread around her in gentle folds of pale blue, the fabric reflecting the sunlight. Her hair was pinned loosely, a few curls escaping to brush her cheeks. She contentedly tilted her head as Amelia babbled, her expression warm and amused.
I cannot believe this is my life, he thought as he slowly descended the steps and walked towards his family.
He smiled as he watched little Amelia, two years old and endlessly curious, tugging at the ribbons on her bonnet with determined little fingers. Her laughter rang across the lawn, bright and unrestrained. She kicked her feet, delighted with the sound she made, then reached up to pat Bella’s chin.
Bella laughed softly, brushing a curl from Amelia’s forehead before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Amelia squealed in delight and buried her face against her mother’s shoulder. The rush of affection he felt as he watched them made him quicken his pace.
Bella looked up as he approached, a delighted smile brightening her already stunning features.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice warm.
“Good morning,” Benedict replied, lowering himself into the grass beside her. Amelia shifted immediately, crawling into his lap with a soft, determined sound that made Bella smile.
Benedict steadied her with one hand and brushed a curl from her forehead with the other. “You are up early today,” he said, and Amelia pressed her palm against his cheek in quiet greeting. He kissed her small hand, and she giggled, leaning her head against his chest.
Bella watched them with a gentle look. “She has been restless since dawn. I think she wanted company.”
“She has it now,” Benedict said, adjusting Amelia so she could sit more comfortably. “Both of you should have stayed in bed a little longer.”
Bella shook her head. “It was too fine a morning to waste.”
“Then we should enjoy the rest of it,” Benedict said, glancing toward the open stretch of lawn and then back at her. “What would you think of a picnic this afternoon? Something simple. We could take a basket to the south meadow.”
“I would like that!” Bella’s face lit up.
Amelia reached for a blade of grass and held it up proudly, handing it to her father. Benedict accepted it with complete seriousness.
“A very fine gift,” he said, placing it in his pocket. Amelia clapped her hands and leaned forward to pat his chest again, pleased with herself.
Bella laughed softly. “She adores you.”
“She has good sense,” Benedict said, shifting Amelia so she could rest against him. “We will bring her favorite biscuits for the picnic.”
“Only if you do not eat them first,” Bella said.
“I will do my best,” he answered, and she nudged his shoulder with hers.
Bella turned at the sound of the approaching steps, and Beatrice appeared at the edge of the terrace with a small basket in her hands. Her expression brightened when she saw them gathered beneath the oak.
“Good morning,” she said.
Bella reached for her with an easy warmth that needed no explanation. “Thank you, Beatrice,” she said, her voice soft but full. “Everything looks lovely.”
Beatrice’s cheeks colored at the praise, and she dipped her head slightly before turning her attention to Amelia. “Good morning, Lady Amelia,” she said, lowering herself enough to meet the child’s eyes.
Amelia responded with a delighted sound and stretched both arms toward her. Beatrice laughed quietly and touched the child’s hand, letting Amelia pat her fingers before drawing back with care so as not to interrupt the family’s morning.
“You are in very good hands today,” she told Amelia, who immediately leaned back against Benedict as though to prove the point.
Beatrice reached into her pocket and took out a letter, then handed it to Benedict. “This came with the morning post, Your Grace,” she said, her tone steady and respectful.
Benedict gave Beatrice a small nod of thanks.
“I will leave you to your morning,” Beatrice said, straightening. “If you need anything, I will be just inside.”
Bella touched her arm lightly in farewell, and Beatrice returned the gesture with a quiet, contented smile before stepping back toward the house, her footsteps soft against the terrace stone.
Bella lifted the basket into her lap and opened it, taking out two small rolls. The moment Amelia saw them, she pushed herself off Benedict’s knee with quick, eager movements and made her way to Bella. Bella guided her into place and helped her wrap her hands around a roll so she could hold it securely. Amelia settled against her side, already focused on her breakfast.
Benedict leaned back and broke the seal on the letter, eagerly anticipating what was inside.
Oliver’s handwriting sprawled across the page in exuberant, looping strokes, unmistakably his. Benedict read the first lines, and a grin spread across his face before he could stop it.
“He is coming home,” Benedict said, unable to keep the joy from his voice. “Oliver has finished his grand tour, and he writes that it was the best decision he ever made.”
Bella looked up from helping Amelia with her roll. “Does he say anything more?”
Benedict nodded, scanning the next lines. “He writes about visiting the galleries in Florence. He says he spent an entire afternoon studying a single painting because he wanted to understand why it moved so many people. He says he finally did.”
He paused, the words settling in. “He has never written like this before.”
Bella’s smile broadened. “He sounds changed.”
“He does,” Benedict said, reading another line with clear pride. “He says he learned more than he expected to, and that he is ready to come home and put it to use.”
Amelia babbled something around her roll, and Benedict reached over to brush her arm, still smiling as he folded the letter carefully in his hand.
Bella’s face lit with joy, her eyes brightening as though someone had lifted a lantern inside her. “I cannot wait to see him again.”
Benedict nodded in agreement. “He writes with such clarity. He sounds grounded and like he is finally back to himself.”
“He will be thrilled to meet Amelia,” Bella said, kissing the top of their daughter’s head, her lips brushing the soft curls. “And she will adore him.”
Suddenly, the terrace door opened, and once again Beatrice walked outside. She crossed the stones at a quicker pace this time, a second letter held carefully between her fingers.
“Lady Bella,” she said as she reached them, a hint of apology in her voice. “I overlooked this one earlier.” She offered the letter with both hands.
Bella accepted it with the same warm ease as before, her smile softening Beatrice’s worried expression at once. “Thank you,” she said, her tone gentle and sure.
Beatrice glanced between them, her eyes bright. “Was the first letter good news, Your Grace?”
“It was,” Benedict said, the happiness still clear in his voice. “Oliver is coming home. He has finished his tour.”
Beatrice’s face lit with genuine delight. “That is wonderful.” Her excitement was immediate and unguarded. “I will start planning something suitable for his return. The kitchen will want time to prepare.”
Bella laughed softly. “He will be very grateful, I’m sure.”
Beatrice gave a quick nod, already thinking ahead. “I will see to it,” she said, and with one more pleased smile, she hurried back inside, her steps light.
Bella looked down at the letter in her hand. “This one is from Eliza,” she said, breaking the seal.
Benedict shifted closer as she unfolded the page. Bella read the first lines, her expression brightening.
“She is coming as well,” Bella said.
Bella read a little further, her brows lifting as a small, surprised sound escaped her. “Oh,” she said, the word light and almost teasing. “She writes of something else.”
Benedict shifted closer, already intrigued by her tone. “What has she said now?”
Bella tapped the edge of the page with her finger, drawing it out just a moment longer. “She writes that she has found a beau she actually likes. She says she is on the way to falling in love.”
Benedict let out a quiet breath. “Truly.”
“She says she did not expect it. She sounds almost startled by her own happiness,” Bella said, her eyes bright.
She continued reading, then frowned slightly.
“What is it?” Benedict asked. He had been watching her closely, and he knew his wife well enough to know that something had surprised her.
Bella shook her head. “She said that her mother does not approve of the match.”
Benedict laughed before he could stop himself.
“Lady Whitmore disapproves of anything she did not arrange herself,” he said.
Bella nodded and smiled. “You’re right. And Eliza sounds happy, so that is what matters.”
Benedict leaned back on one hand, still watching the pleased curve of Bella’s smile as she folded Eliza’s letter.
“Speaking of this family,” he said, his tone light, “I heard in town that your aunt and uncle are working very hard to restore their standing. It seems they are still rebuilding their finances after returning your inheritance.”
Bella smoothed the edge of the letter with her thumb, her expression calm and settled. “I am glad they have kept their distance,” she said. “I want nothing to do with them now. It is better this way.”
Benedict nodded, accepting her words without question.
Amelia leaned into Bella’s side, humming softly around the last of her roll. Bella steadied her with a gentle hand, brushing a crumb from her sleeve.
Another crumb tumbled onto Benedict’s knee, but this time Amelia paused, studying it with great seriousness. She looked from the crumb to Benedict, then held out what remained of her roll in both hands, offering it to him with all the solemn generosity a two‑year‑old could muster.
Benedict’s expression softened at once. “For me?” he asked, his voice formal.
Amelia nodded, her curls bouncing around her face that was beaming with pride.
He leaned forward and took the tiniest possible bite, exaggerated just enough to make her giggle. “Delicious,” he said, tapping her nose lightly.
She squealed with delight and leaned back against Bella, satisfied with her success.
Amelia finished the last of her roll and brushed her hands together in a way that once again sent crumbs scattering across Benedict’s knee. As he stood up to brush himself off, Bella laughed softly and stood, lifting Amelia to her feet. The little girl wobbled once, then toddled forward with a determined purpose, and they followed her across the lawn at an easy pace.
They walked only a short distance before Amelia stopped beneath a broad‑limbed tree and dropped to a crouch, immediately absorbed by a small stick half‑buried in the dirt. She poked at the ground with deep concentration, humming to herself.
Bella and Benedict stood close enough to watch her, the shade cool around them. Bella slipped her hand into his, her fingers warm and familiar.
“There is something I must tell you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.
Benedict turned toward her, giving her his full attention while Amelia continued her determined exploration of a pebble. “What is it?”
Bella guided his hand gently to her stomach. Her smile was soft, almost shy, but full of certainty.
She leaned in just a little, her eyes bright. “We are going to have another baby.”
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly along her skin, and kissed her.
When they parted, Benedict rested his forehead against hers. “You have built a beautiful life,” he said softly.
Bella touched his cheek, her hand warm against him. “We built it together.”
They stood there beneath the tree, their daughter playing at their feet, the estate stretching out around them, everything exactly as it should be.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Secrets and Courtships of the Regency", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hello there, my dearest readers! I hope you enjoyed the book and the Extended Epilogue! I truly cannot wait to discuss everything here! 😊
Las novelas que dices de regalo están en inglés, y yo no hablo inglés solo español, así que no puedo leerte. Un saludo
Siento mucho escuchar eso; yo tampoco hablo español, ¡pero espero que aun así puedas disfrutar de algunos de mis trabajos traducidos! Saludos 💖