Captivated by the Earl’s Daughter – Extended Epilogue

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Three years later…

 Elise

It was strawberry season. Elise and Edward’s twin daughters, Marielle and Sarah, sat on a quilted blanket with their dolls and a tea set. Baby Walter, Gemma and Stephen’s tiny son lay nearby happily waving a rattle over his head. Annie, happily married to Able and now hugely pregnant with their first child, sat on the edge of the blanket, keeping watch over the little ones.

Elise smiled at the scene, her fingers itching for a sketch pad and charcoal. But her hands were busy picking berries. Edward worked on the row opposite her, pausing every now and then to feed her a berry. 

Farther up the field, Gemma and Stephen worked their way down a row. Several other couples from the village were also there to pick. While the horses were the primary source of revenue for the Ackley-Passmore farm, they enjoyed additional income from fresh produce, jellies and jams. They kept some for their own consumption, of course.

Elise found a particularly succulent berry and reached across the row to feed it to Edward. He accepted it, and fed a sweet, plump berry to her in turn. 

“Isn’t it amazing how much better they taste when shared?” she remarked.

“Not surprising at all,” Edward said. “Everything else is better when I share it with you. Why should this be any different?”

Elise laughed. 

Gemma called to them, “What’s so funny?”

“How much better things are when shared,” Elise called back. 

There were several shouts from other pickers to the order of, “Of course!”, “Always,” and “How else?” Strawberry picking had somehow become a couples’ event, much beloved by the soon-to-be-married and the newly married. Although there were a few older couples in the field. 

Able came walking back down the row with a full basket. He stopped by the blanket and placed a plump berry on each plate at the little girls’ tea party. He then filled a small bowl with berries and left them for Annie to nibble on and to share with the children. 

Walter, named for Stephen’s father, was still too young for strawberries. But when he began to fuss, Gemma hurried back and picked him up, taking him into the cottage for a quick feed. 

Elise looked over at Edward. “Would you mind too much if I go sit with the children for a little while?”

“Not at all,” he said. “We have nearly finished our rows, anyway.” 

Elise joined her daughters at their tea party, sharing out a few more berries to replace the ones they had already eaten. 

Annie smiled at her. “Have you told Edward yet?” she asked.

Elise blushed. “Not yet, but I will soon. I hope for a son this time.”

“Daughters are not good enough?” Annie teased.

“Daughters are wonderful,” Elise said. “But we hope for several of each. I’ve been waiting until I am sure to tell Edward.”

“To tell me what?” Edward asked, setting his filled baskets to one side of the blankets and dropping down beside Elise. 

She smiled at him. “That the girls might be getting a baby brother or sister in a few months.”

Edward grinned. “That is wonderful news! I was wondering about that…you’ve had a kind of glow about you for several days now.”

“Congratulations!” Stephen said as he also brought full baskets of berries to the edge of the blanket. He did not, however, add more berries to the tea party. “I think Aunt Rose will have afternoon tea ready soon. We should all save room for her cucumber sandwiches.”

“Excellent idea,” Gemma said as she returned with Walter. “Strawberries are delicious, but I’m hungry for something more substantial. In fact, it seems to me that I’m hungry all the time now.”

Elise laughed. “Eating for two is doubly true when you are nursing babes. I remember how very hungry I was when the girls were small.”

“Considering that you were eating for three,” Annie put in, “it is no wonder at all.”

“I’ll have to make sure that you have plenty of good food,” Edward said. “So that you become beautifully round and rosy.”

Elise, who had remained thin even when her pregnancy was extremely visible, said, “Are you hoping to make me fat?”

“Not at all,” he replied to her teasing. “But I never want you to be hungry.” He picked up her hand and kissed it gently.

“Kisses for us, too!” Marielle said, leaning over to her father, her mouth puckered into a little rosebud. 

“Yes, Papa,” Sarah added, “Kisses for us, too!”

Edward laughed and gave each girl a peck on the cheek. “Plenty of kisses to go around,” he said. “But I save my best kisses for your mama.” He cradled Elise’s hand in his, bringing the back of it to his cheek.

Able came walking back from the house. “Mrs. Ackley says that tea is ready, if we’ll all bring the baskets and come on up to the house. He reached his hand down to Annie and helped her to her feet. 

Elise helped her daughters pick up their dolls and tea set, while Gemma laid Walter over her shoulder and patted his back until he gave forth an incredibly manly burp. 

Edward and Stephen picked up the blanket, and Edward tucked it under his arm. Then each of the three gentlemen picked up one or two baskets of strawberries and headed for the house.

The tiny bungalow that the three men had built three years ago had now grown quite a bit. It now included a wide common room where it was easy to cook the juice to create jams and jellies. Two more private rooms had been added, the lean-to had become a proper stable, and the paddock was now large enough to accommodate visiting horses. 

The strawberry field was bigger, too, which was why the villagers had been invited to help pick. They did it on shares: half for themselves, half for the Ackley Farm. Tomorrow, many of them would come to help with making jam and jelly, as well as other preserves. The big, airy outdoor kitchen was a more pleasant place to work than small home kitchens. Besides, it was more fun to undertake the long, hot arduous tasks of making preserves in the company of others. 

Edward sat with Elise and their daughters. “So,” he said, teasing her, “When were you going to tell me that our family was about to increase?”

“When I was sure—which I am not, just quite yet. But I do think it likely,” Elise said, pouring a cup of freshly squeezed juice for each of their daughters.

Edward took over pouring, filling a glass for Elise and one for himself. “Should we make certain of it later on tonight? After the girls are abed and everyone has gone home?”

Elise laughed. “Oh, you!” she said. “What if I say no?”

“Then I will wait for another night when the answer is yes,” Edward replied gently.

“You seem very sure that such a night will occur,” Elise teased him.

He grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows. “History would indicate that it is likely to be so,” he teased right back. 

Elise gripped his hand beneath the table and smiled at him. “Strawberries are not always in season,” she said. “We must gather them while we may. Sometimes I fear that kisses also have a season.”

“Too true,” Edward said, his expression sombre. They had lost his brother this last year. Benjamin had been swept from the deck of one of the big sailing vessels during a particularly vicious storm. His widow was left with twin sons, the older of whom would inherit the title. 

“Father has been after me to come up to London and help him with the business,” Edward said.

“Will you go?” Elise asked.

“Only if you think you can manage here,” Edward replied. “I have an obligation to Louis. He took me in and gave me a place when I was very much adrift in the world.”

Elise nodded. “I could manage for a few months. But stay off the ships, do you hear? I don’t want to receive word that you have followed your brother down into Davy Jones’ locker.”

“Davy Jones…where did you ever hear such an expression?” Edward asked, somewhat amused. 

“I received a bundle of broadsides a week or so ago,” Elise explained. “There was a description of the pantomime in one of them.”

“Was there, indeed?” Edward asked. “Will we see a version of it come Christmastide?”

“Perhaps,” Elise returned. “The parson pretended to be horrified, but his housekeeper reports that a copy is on his desk and that he is cleaning it up for family viewing. I think he is mixing it up with the story of Jonah and the whale.”

Edward laughed. “That old rascal,” he said. “And I’m sure he’ll attach a moral lesson to it, as well.”

“Of course,” I said. “How else could he get the children and villagers to sit still for his homilies?”

“I promise to stay off the ships,” Edward said. “Mr Tucker is my father’s maritime manager, and he does a far better job of it than I. Of far greater importance is the question of fostering the twins where they can learn manners and responsibility. Their mother is overwhelmed with grief.”

“Bring them here,” Elise said promptly. “They are only a little older than the girls. We can keep them safe and see to it that they do not fall into the traps that are there for so many noble youngsters.”

“Thank you,” Edward said. “Would you mind terribly if their mother came with them?”

“Of course not!” Elise said. “I cannot think how I could manage if I were separated from our girls. Besides, it might do her good to be in a place far removed from memories of her husband. I know that losing you would wound me to the core—which is why I want you to stay off the ships.”

“I could just as easily be thrown by one of the horses,” Edward pointed out. “Or I could catch some pestilence in the village.”

“I know,” Elise said. “Dangers abound. But if you are thrown from a horse or if you are taken ill, I will know where you are and what happened. Benjamin’s body was not found, so he could still turn up somewhere, having been taken up by some other ship. Uncertainty is a terrible thing.”

Edward nodded. He struggled with this uncertainty, and he missed his older brother. “I know,” he said. “But we have friends and neighbours here for whom we need to put on a merry face. It is strawberry season!”

“So it is,” Elise said, smiling at him. “I remember we had our first conversation over the strawberries.”

“I remember that I wanted you far more than I wanted the berries,” Edward returned. “But I was kept from making any real offer because Alice Cranfield had chosen to point her finger at me as the father of her child.”

“How is she?” Elise asked.

“Last I heard, Father had given her sailor a place at the docking office. He’d lost a leg in an accident on board and was no longer an able-bodied sailor.”

“That must be hard for him,” Elise commented. “Is he sufficiently lettered to hold such a position?”

“He is, amazingly enough,” Edward corroborated. “Father has always insisted on education for his workers. He says it gives them something to do besides beg if they are permanently put ashore.”

“Your father is a good man, Edward Westwood,” Elise said. “And so are you. I am a very lucky woman.”

“No, indeed, Elise Camden Westwood,” Edward said. “I am a lucky man.” Heedless of propriety, he kissed her berry-stained lips in a way that promised more kisses to come when they had gone home to bed.

The families around them cheered and applauded. “Yeah!” one man shouted. “That’s the way to do it!”

They broke apart but continued to hold hands. Theirs was a good life, rich with family, friends, and happiness.

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