Ellie looked down at where her hand clutched her wound. “I can't,” she whispered. If she let go, then the blood would start pouring out, and…
Helen tugged at her fingers. “Please, Ellie. I must see how serious the wound is.”
Ellie whimpered and said, “No, I can't. You see, when I see my own blood…”
But Helen had already pried Ellie's fingers from her arm. “There now,” Helen said. “It's not so bad. Ellie? Ellie?”
Ellie had already fainted.
“Who would have thought,” Helen said several hours later, when Ellie was comfortably settled in her own bed, “that Ellie would have turned out to be so squeamish?”
“Certainly not I,” Charles replied, lovingly smoothing a lock of hair from his wife's forehead. “After all, she put a row of stitches in my arm that would set any seamstress to shame.”
“You don't need to talk as if I'm not here,” Ellie said peevishly. “Cecil shot me in the arm, not the ear.”
At the mention of Cecil's name, Charles felt a now-familiar rush of rage. It would be some time before he would be able to look back upon the events of this day without shaking in fury.
He had sent someone out to collect Cecil's body, although he hadn't really decided what he was going to do with it. Charles certainly wasn't going to allow him to be buried with the rest of the Wycombe family.
Baxter and Riley had been paid and sent on their way after Riley showed them where he'd left poor Leavey, who hadn't even had a moment to scream before Riley had clubbed him over the head and grabbed Helen.
His attention was on Ellie, and on making certain her gunshot wound wasn't any more serious than she'd claimed. The bullet didn't seem to have hit any major vessels or bones, although Charles had had the scare of his life when Ellie had passed out.
He patted his wife on her good arm. “All that matters is that you are healthy. Dr. Summers says that with a few days of bed rest you should be as good as new. And he also said that it's quite common to faint at the sight of blood.”
“I don't faint at the sight of any blood,” Ellie muttered. “Just my own.”
“How peculiar,” Charles teased. “After all, my blood is the same color as yours. It looks quite the same to me.”
She scowled at him. “If you can't be nice, then just leave me to Helen.”
He could tell by her tone that she was also teasing, so he leaned down and kissed her nose.
Helen abruptly stood up and said, “I'll fetch some tea.”
Charles watched his cousin leave the room and shut the door behind her. “She always knows when we want to be left alone, doesn't she?”
“Helen is far more perceptive and tactful than either of us,” Ellie agreed.
“Perhaps that is why we are so well matched.”
Ellie smiled. “We are, aren't we?”
Charles settled in beside her and draped his arm over her shoulders. “Do you realize that we can finally have a normal marriage now?”
“Having never been wed before, I was not aware that ours was an abnormal marriage.”
“Perhaps not precisely ‘abnormal,’ but I doubt that most newlyweds must contend with poisonings and gunshot wounds.”
“And do not forget carriage accidents and jam explosions,” Ellie said, actually laughing.
“Not to mention stitches in my arm, carcasses in the orangery, and fires in the kitchen.”
“Goodness, it has been an exciting month.”
“I don't know about you, but I could do with a bit less excitement myself.”
“Oh, I don't know. I don't mind a bit of excitement, although I'd rather it be of a different sort.”
He raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Merely that Judith might like another little Wycombe to boss around.”
Charles felt his heart drop to his toes, a remarkable feat considering he was horizontal. “Are you…?” he gasped, unable to get the full sentence out. “Are you…?
“Of course not,” she said, swatting him on the shoulder. “Well, actually I suppose I could be, but considering we only started…you know…so recently, I haven't even had the opportunity to know if I were or not, and—”
“Then what is your point?”
She smiled coyly. “Merely that there is no reason we cannot begin trying to make this particular dream a reality.”
“Helen will be back with the tea at any minute.”
“She'll knock.”
“But your arm…”
“I have every faith that you will be careful.”
A slow smile crept across Charles's face. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Ellie nodded. “Have I told you?”
He nodded back at her. “Why don't we wiggle you out of that dressing gown and see about turning your dreams into reality?”
Epilogue
Nine months and one day later, Ellie was the happiest woman alive. Not that she hadn't thought herself the happiest woman alive the day before, and the day before that, but this day was special.
Ellie was finally certain that she and Charles were going to have a child.
Their marriage, which had begun almost as an accident, had grown into something truly magical. Her days were filled with laughter, her nights with passion, and her dreams with hope and wonder.
Not to mention her orangery, which was filled with oranges, thanks to her and Claire's diligent gardening.
Ellie looked down at her abdomen with a sense of amazement. How strange that a new life was growing there, that a person who could eventually walk and talk and have her own name and ideas was resting inside of her.
She smiled. She was already thinking of this new baby as a girl. She didn't know why, but she was certain it would be female. She wanted to name her Mary, after her mother. She didn't think Charles would mind.
Ellie strode through the great hall, still looking for her husband. Drat and blast, where was he when she needed him? She had waited months for this moment, to tell him the wonderful news, and now she couldn't find him anywhere. Finally she gave up all pretense of decorum and yelled his name. “Charles? Charles?”
He appeared across the hall, tossing an orange between his hands. “Good afternoon, Ellie. What has you in such a tizzy?”
Her face erupted into a smile. “Charles, we've finally done it.”
He blinked. “Done what?”
“A baby, Charles. We're going to have a baby.”
“Well, I should think so. I've been trying my damnedest for the last nine months.”
Her mouth fell open. “That is your reaction?”
“Well, if you think about it, you'd be delivering right now instead of announcing your pregnancy if we'd gotten it right the first time.”
“Charles!” She swatted him on the shoulder.
He chuckled and gathered her into his arms. “Hush up, Ellie. You know I'm teasing.”
“Then you're happy?”
He kissed her tenderly. “More than I could ever say.”
Ellie smiled up into his face. “I never thought I could love another person as much as I do you, but I was wrong.” She placed her hands on her flat stomach. “I love this little one already, so very, very much, and she's not even born yet.”
“She?”
“It's a girl. I'm sure of it.”
“If you're sure of it, then I'm sure you're right.”
“Is that so?”
“I've long since learned never to argue with you.”
“I had no idea I had you so well trained.”
Charles grinned. “I do make a fine husband, don't I?”
“The best. And you'll be an excellent father as well.”
His face grew emotional as he touched her midriff. “I love this little one already, too,” he whispered.
“Do you?”
He nodded. “Now then, shall we show our daughter her first sunset? I peeked out the window. The sky is almost as bright as your smile.”
“I think she'd
like that. And I would, as well.”
Hand in hand, they walked outside and watched the sky.
About the Author
Julia Quinn started writing her first book one month after finishing college and has been tapping away at her keyboard ever since. The New York Times bestselling author of thirteen novels for Avon Books, she is a graduate of Harvard and Radcliffe Colleges and lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest. Please visit her on the web at www.juliaquinn.com.
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Avon Books by
Julia Quinn
Brighter Than the Sun
Dancing At Midnight
Everything and the Moon
How to Marry a Marquis
Minx
Splendid
To Catch an Heiress
The Bridgerton Series
The Duke and I
The Viscount Who Loved Me
An Offer from A Gentleman
Romancing Mr. Bridgerton
To Sir Phillip, With Love
When He Was Wicked
Anthologies
The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown
(with Suzanne Enoch, Karen Hawkins, and Mia Ryan)
Where's My Hero
(with Lisa Kleypas and Kinley MacGregor)
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. Copyright © 1997 by Julie Cotler Pottinger. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books™.
ePub edition June 2004 ISBN 9780061739699
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Julia Quinn, Brighter Than the Sun
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