"So do I."
"You are finally thinking about the future."
"I have you to thank."
"No." She looked at him. "You chose to change."
He smiled. "Because you made staying worthwhile."
Their life settled into something neither of them had expected. Not perfect—never perfect. William still climbed trees; Sophie still escaped her nurse; Nathaniel still worried; Evelyn still argued. But now the arguments ended with laughter instead of distance.
One evening, William asked Nathaniel a question: "Papa, why did you marry Mother?"
Nathaniel looked toward Evelyn. She was reading by the fire. "Because I needed an heir."
William frowned. "That sounds boring."
Evelyn covered her smile. Nathaniel corrected himself. "That is how it started."
"Why did you stay?"
Nathaniel looked at Evelyn again. "Because I learned that your mother was impossible to replace."
William nodded as though this made perfect sense. Sophie, sitting on the floor, announced, "Mother is very loud."
Evelyn looked up. "I heard that."
The children laughed. Nathaniel laughed with them.
Later that night, when the children were asleep, Evelyn stood at the window. Nathaniel came behind her.
"What are you thinking about? Belford? The argument? The cat?"
He laughed. "You remember that ridiculous animal more than anything?"
"It was an important day."
"How? You met me."
He wrapped his arms around her. "And regretted it immediately."
"Yet you stayed."
She turned toward him. "You asked me to."
"No." He shook his head. "I asked you for an heir."
She smiled. "And I gave you a condition: When our child is born, I stay."
"Yes." He kissed her forehead. "You changed my life."
She touched his cheek. "You changed mine."
Outside, snow began falling over the gardens. The house was quiet, warm, alive. Nathaniel had once feared dying without an heir; now he understood that an heir was only one part of a legacy. The greater legacy was the family they had built around their children: a family where a woman without a title had been allowed to become more than a duchess—she had become the heart of the house; a family where a duke had learned that strength was not control, it was the courage to love; and a family where two children would grow up knowing that their parents had chosen one another freely.
The next morning, Nathaniel found Evelyn in the garden. She was watching William teach Sophie how to feed the old mare. Nathaniel stood beside her.
"Look at them."
"I am."
"They are happy."
"Yes." He smiled. "So are we."
She looked at him. "Yes."
He took her hand. "Stay."
She laughed. "Still?"
"Always. I told you."
"What?"
"When our child is born, I stay."
He looked at their children. "Which child?"
She laughed. "Both."
He smiled. Then she leaned against him.
"And you? What about me? Will you stay?"
Nathaniel looked at her. "Until you are tired of me."
"That could take a very long time."
"Good."
She kissed him. Behind them, William shouted that Sophie had dropped the feed bucket. Nathaniel sighed.
"I should help."
"You should."