Page 117 of Cocky Butler
“Never, ever tell her that. But as the house party was partly her idea, she didn’t give him much choice. Not to worry, though, love, the baby isn’t due until February.” Violet and Simon stepped outside just as Greystone’s carriage pulled to a halt.
“You are here!” Violet announced.
“Finally!” Diana grinned as she exited the carriage, looking even more fashionable than Greys. Diana had not had an easy time in society, but her persistence had paid off, and the ball she’d hosted in London last spring had been declared a resounding success.
A full-on ballet had been performed for the guests while supper was served. Those who hadn’t been scandalized declared the Marchioness of Greystone to be the hostess of the decade.
Because Diana had been one of the dancers.
“I’m so glad you are here. Bethany is upstairs already.” Violet brushed a kiss along the younger girl’s cheek.
“She is well? The traveling wasn’t too much?”
“She’s fine. I’m the one who insisted she rest.” Violet reassured her. “She was determined not to miss seeing everyone together for the holidays.”
“She does seem to enjoy Christmas more than most,” Diana said.
However, Violet was prevented from showing Greys and Diana upstairs, as more carriages appeared, followed by… more carriages.
And before long, guests were shaking hands, a few squealing and welcoming one another with varying levels of exuberance. Servants, nannies, and governesses rushed in and out of the house to assist the arrivals. There were even a few dogs amongst them.
“The two of you are saints for doing this,” Lady Crestwood told both Violet and Simon. After spending over a year at her husband’s country estate, partly in mourning but also because of the birth of their son, the countess and Mantis had finally reentered society last spring. Simon had been thrilled to have his sparring partner back, and Violet happy to become reacquainted with the quietly dignified woman, whom she’d met briefly in London while Simon had been playing butler.
They had brought not only their infant son, but were also accompanied by the earl’s younger half-brother, and Cordelia, the earl’s twin sister, a magnificent woman with blond hair and warm brown eyes.
Next to arrive was Collette, who had surprised all of them with her marriage to the Duke of Bedwell. She’d met him at Miss Primm’s Private Seminary for the Education of Ladies, the school where she’d been hired to teach, and the two had wed before the first term ended. As the duke’s mother had died the year before, they had brought his sister, Lady Fiona, with them as well. Simon had also invited Bedwell’s half-brother, a handsome dark-skinned gentleman, Mr. Rowan Stewart.
And upon meeting him and making introductions, Violet had felt the seeds of matchmaking take root.
“I’m going to seat Mr. Stewart beside Cordelia,” Violet whispered into Simon’s ear.
“Whatever you wish, my love,” he answered, grinning but shaking his head.
More guests arrived: Posy and her friend, and Aunt Iris. And then Lord and Lady Westerley, along with their daughter, followed by Tabetha and her husband, Mr. Spencer. Simon’s sisters and their spouses were some of the last to arrive, and his brother, Lucas, who was one of the kindest people she’d ever met, along with his wife, Naomi, and their daughter.
Although most of the guests were already acquainted with one another, a few introductions were necessary, and with all the conversation, nearly an hour passed before everyone made their way inside.
And when the large front door closed behind them, Violet remained outside with Simon, holding his arm and staring down the drive. “That is everyone, is it not?” She relaxed her shoulders, mentally going through the list of their guests.
“I’m not sure the house could hold one more person.” Simon’s arm settled around her waist.
“But you don’t mind,” she said, turning to stare up into his midnight gaze. “I never thought I’d have a holiday like this.” Her voice caught. “I never expected to be part of such a large family. I have your sisters, your brother, and their families, and Greys and Diana and Posy, but also all of our friends.” Violet was so glad that Simon’s friends had been there for him after his parents had passed. She was grateful for all his friends, period. Lady Westerley had christened the lot of them as The Cocksure Gents.
And it had somehow stuck.
Violet breathed in this moment. The scent of winter hovering in the air, the breeze cooler now than when they’d first stepped outside.
She closed her eyes, resting in her husband’s arms.
Every day with this man was precious to her.
“Fate has been more than good to me.” She inhaled. She had never needed a grand house, or a title, or fancy gowns, and dozens of servants. All she’d ever wanted was love—this kind of love. The love of her dreams. “You and the boys are all I’ll ever need.” She smiled. “Mr. Cockfield.”
She touched her husband’s jaw, marveling to be so utterly… blessed.
“And you, my love,” Simon kissed her, “are my very own happy-ever-after.”
* * *
— The End —
