The Reluctant Countess Bonus Epilogue

THE RELUCTANT COUNTESS

Bonus Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

Patrick stood at the railing beside Sophie, his hand brushing lightly against hers. In the distance, the thunder of hooves along the back straight drew closer. Around them, the crowd surged with excitement, voices raised as they cheered the riders and horses on.
He scanned the faces nearby and found Timmy—Sophie’s younger brother—just a few feet away. The young man stood frozen, posture rigid, his gaze locked on the approaching horses. Jaw clenched, his hands were pushed into the pockets of his black jacket.
Like his sister, he had changed a great deal from the young boy Patrick had first met.
“I almost can’t look,” Sophie murmured, her voice taut with tension.
Patrick moved a little closer, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of her back now. “His horse is running third at the moment, love,” he said gently. “Take a breath, Sophie.”
She nodded, but he could feel the tension in her spine. “I just want this for Timmy so badly,” she whispered.
“I know.”
In the years since he had married Sophie, everything in Patrick’s life had changed—deeply, irrevocably, and for the better. Before her, he’d been careful with emotion, a man who kept most things buried beneath a cool exterior. But Sophie had brought color to his world, teaching him how to laugh again, to feel fully, and to love without hesitation. She was the part of himself he hadn’t known was missing.
And Timmy from day one had accepted him without question, and they’d grown close. He was like a son to Patrick now.
Sophie looked up at him then, her eyes wide and bright with emotion. She was still the most beautiful woman he knew, even more so now than the day they’d met. Theirs was a deep, fierce love that made life interesting always. Sophie never hesitated to give him her opinion, and an earful during a spirited debate. She could also shriek like a London street vendor when provoked, and he wouldn’t trade a single moment. She had risen above her birth and had taken to the role as his countess, as if she’d been born for it.
“Papa!” a voice shouted behind them.
Patrick turned just in time to see his youngest child charging toward him as fast as his little ten-year-old legs could carry him. Bending down, he caught the boy and hugged him close as he launched himself at Patrick.
“Hello, Louie,” he said.
“Uncle Stephen had lemon drops, and he gave me two.”
“I just bet he did,” Patrick replied, planting a kiss on Louie’s cold cheek. He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder as the boy leaned into his legs. His other hand went back to Sophie’s waist, their eyes turning once more to the track as the horses rounded the far bend and began the final stretch.
Unlike Louie, their daughter Ella—three years older—was more serious, like Patrick. But Louie had a boundless energy all his own. He tested his parents daily, and the cry of ‘Louie why did you do that’ was often heard inside the walls of their house.
“Where is your sister, Louie?”
“With Melanie,” he said eyes on the approaching horses. “This is for your birthday, Mama,” he added, opening his palm. In it was a lemon drop.
Sophie took the offering with a smile.
“Thank you, my darling, it’s one of my favorite presents,” she said solemnly taking it and popping it in her mouth.
The roar of the crowd was rising again. The horses were flying toward them now, a blur of hooves and jockeys crouched low over withers.
Timmy—now going by Timothy in professional circles—had grown into a young man of quiet strength. From early on, Patrick had recognized his natural affinity with horses. So when Timmy had come to him with a detailed and ambitious plan to train and eventually own racehorses, Patrick hadn’t hesitated. The proposal was sound, the vision clear. And more than that, he believed in him. They were also about to start a breeding program, with their first stallion arriving any day. Not once had he regretted the investment.
“He’s in second place,” Patrick said into Sophie’s ear, just as the horses drew level with them. The surrounding noise was now deafening, and Louie was happy to add to it.
“Go, Carrot!” the boy yelled.
Carrot, the affectionately named chestnut colt, surged forward. The final stretch was a blur of motion. For a breathless moment, it was impossible to tell who was ahead. And then, just as they crossed the finish line, Patrick watched Carrot stretch out.
“He won!” Patrick roared. All around, people erupted into wild cheers, hugging and shouting and jumping in celebration.
Sophie threw her arms around him, crying through her tears as Louie jumped up and down with excitement. “He did it!” she cried.
It had taken five years to get here. Five years of hard work, setbacks, small victories, and relentless effort to reach this moment, and win a race as prestigious as this one.
A tap on the back had Patrick turning to find Timmy behind him. Tall enough to look him in the eyes now, he was smiling face alive with emotion. With age he looked more like his sister, and the bond between the siblings was still strong.
“We did it!” Timmy said, voice thick.
“You did it,” Patrick replied, pulling him into a fierce hug. There had been a time when such a gesture would have felt foreign, awkward even, to him, but not anymore. Sophie had changed all that. She made him understand about love and family, and the importance of both in your life.

CHAPTER TWO

Sophie fought back the tears as she looked at her family. Her family. She had never believed this would be the life she and Timmy could live. Yet, here they were. The man talking to her brother had changed all of it. He had brought stability, love, and something she had once believed was reserved for others, a future filled with hope.
Patrick hadn’t cared about her past, only that she be part of his future. He stepped back now, giving her room to throw her arms around her brother. The brother her husband had embraced as if he was his own blood.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sophie whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“I can’t believe it, Sophie,” Timmy said, his smile wide.
She cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes. Their mother’s blue eyes stared back at Sophie when she looked at her brother. She would have been so proud and happy for her children, and the life they now lived.
“And this is just the beginning. It is a wonderful birthday gift, brother.”
“Because of you and Patrick,” he said so only she could hear. “You both believed in me.”
“Well done!” Stephen said as he approached next, with Amelia and Melanie flanking him. Ella was also with them, her hand clasped in Amelia’s.
“Uncle Timmy won, Mama,” Ella said, leaving Amelia to come to her. Ella was not as bold as her brother; the noise and celebrations made her nervous. With Sophie’s eyes and Patrick’s sable hair, she was a blend of her parents. She preferred quiet places, and especially the gardens. That love had led to the greenhouse, a gift from her father after persistent requests, which she spent many hours in.
“He did, darling. Isn’t that wonderful?” Sophie said.
Sophie’s eyes drifted to the young lady standing nearby, who Timmy was walking toward. She noticed the way her brother looked at her, and how the woman looked back.
“That’s an interesting development,” Patrick whispered in her ear.
“Who is she?” Sophie asked.
“The stallion we’re getting is owned by Miss Prentice’s father. I believe he’s also asked Timmy to train one of his horses.”
“She has a lovely smile.”
“Not as lovely as yours, my sweet,” Patrick replied.
“You always say that.”
“And it’s always true. Now come along, we have a birthday to celebrate.”
“With the family,” Sophie said.
“Of course with the family, who else would be there?”
Patrick’s hair was greying now, and his face had gathered a few more lines, but he was still the big, strong, handsome man she loved—her man.
The carriage ride back to the estate was lively. Louie, never one to stay quiet, filled the air with questions directed mostly at his sister, who clearly wished he wouldn’t.
“Uncle Timmy is famous, Ella,” he declared loudly, with the confidence of someone speaking in the House of Lords.
“No, he just won a single horse race with a horse he trained. That doesn’t make him famous,” Ella replied, ever the pragmatist.
“He is,” Louie insisted, his face taking on a stubborn expression that signaled trouble.
“That will do,” Patrick said with the ease of someone who had uttered that phrase many times before.
“I am going to be a horse trainer like Uncle Timmy,” Louie declared. “I will be famous.”
Ella rolled her eyes at that and looked out the window.
“I have more lemon drops,” Timmy said, his expression suddenly sly. “Would you like one, Mama, Papa?”
Ella kept her eyes on the window.
“You will give your sister one please, Louie,” Sophie added.
After lemon drops were reluctantly handed out to everyone, they traveled the rest of the way to the estate in silence, except for the sucking noises. Ella was the first to jump from the carriage when it stopped, running up the stone steps and into the house with Louie on her heels, shouting her name.
Sophie sighed. “She’ll be yelling at him again in minutes.”
“They’ll grow up and not want to talk to us at all soon, or so I’ve been told,” Patrick said, offering his hand to help her down. “Now, let’s go inside and eat. I’m starving.”
The house was unusually quiet when they entered. No staff appeared, and that alone was strange. There was always someone around.
“Where is everyone? I can’t even hear the children,” Sophie said, searching the elegant entrance way with a puzzled expression.
“I have no idea, but I want food. So come along, birthday girl,” Patrick said, tugging gently on her hand.
“Patrick—” His name caught in her throat as he opened the doors to the parlor and she saw them.
“Happy Birthday!” voices called in unison.
She stopped, stunned. The room was filled with people. “I can’t believe you did this,” Sophie whispered.
“Of course you can believe it,” Patrick said, nudging her forward with a hand on her back.
“Sophie, hello, my dear.” Letty walked toward her, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane.
Older now, with her shoulders stooped and her eyes faded, Letty still had her sharp intelligence and sly wit. She had remained a constant in Sophie’s life ever since she and Patrick married. Their children called her ‘Aunt Letty,’ and Sophie often wondered what her life would have looked like if they had never met.
She still frequented society every season with her friends and terrified every new crop of debutantes by saying exactly what they thought.
“Letty,” Sophie said, embracing her warmly.
“You’re looking more radiant every year,” Letty said. “How do you manage it?”
“Patrick feeds me well,” Sophie replied with a laugh.
The party had not been expected, but Sophie thoroughly enjoyed it. The sound of voices and music echoed through the halls of their home well into the evening. Timmy was the center of many conversations, his quiet humility only making his achievements all the more admired. Sophie watched him from across the room, speaking with Miss Prentice, who had arrived with her father. There was something new blossoming there, and it made her happy. She wanted it all for her brother, just like she and Patrick had.

CHAPTER THREE

Later that night, after everyone had gone and the children had finally been tucked into bed, Sophie stood in front of the mirror taking the pins from her hair, a nightly ritual he loved watching.
Patrick moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Did you have a good day, Sophie?”
She met his eyes in the reflection and nodded. “Better than I ever imagined. It was wonderful to see Letty and our friends again. Thank you for organizing the party, even though I said I had no wish for one.”
“You deserve all of it, Sophie. You gave me a life I never thought I’d have.”
She turned, facing him fully. “We gave it to each other.”
He kissed her forehead, then her lips. “I have one more gift for you. But you need to put on your sturdy boots and cloak to receive it.”
“But you have given me so much already today. I am in need of nothing more, Patrick.”
“If I wish to shower you with gifts, then that is my prerogative. Now come along, make haste, woman.”
“It’s dark outside.”
“You have lost your sense of adventure, wife?” That made her spine stiffen. Minutes later she had retrieved her cloak and stomped her feet into her boots.
Taking her hand, Patrick led her through the now silent house. Sophie had checked on their children before she retired and found both fast asleep after their busy day.
They took the stairs down and when they reached the front door, he opened it and they walked outside. After closing the door, Patrick raised Sophie’s hood.
“Let’s go.”
“Can I ask where to?”
“No.”
She followed silently as their booted feet crunched on the stoned path. Leaves rustled in the slight breeze and above them the night sky sprinkled with stars.
“There really is no sky like this one, and yet I know in London it is the same—”
“But here it seems vaster and clearer,” Patrick added.
“Exactly.”
Entering the gardens, they walked the narrow path to the end, and then through a gate. Beyond was a lake that they rowed in constantly, as his children loved it. In fact, both liked water so much he’d taught them to swim, forcing Sophie to do the same in case she ever fell in. She had protested the entire time.
Patrick tracked to the right and then stopped before a small garden.
“I’ve never seen this before,” Sophie said. She then dropped his hand when she saw the plaque. Moving closer, she bent to read it.
Patrick walked to stand behind her. Placing a hand on her shoulders as they began to shake.
“You once told me that your mother loved flowers and water. Often you spoke of wanting something or somewhere to remember her, but there was nowhere as she died so far from here. So this is for you and Timmy, my love. Where you can both come and talk to her. Tell her the story of your life, and what you have become.”
She dropped to her knees, placing a hand on the plaque, tracing the gold lettering on the grey headstone with shaking fingers.
“Dorothy Beams. Beloved mother of Sophie and Timmy.” Sophie read the words slowly, her voice husky with emotion. “Always in our hearts may you rest in peace.”
She then lowered her head and wept loudly.
Patrick hated seeing anyone he loved in pain, but these he knew were healing tears. Her mother was a deep ache inside Sophie and while she did not speak of her often, he knew she thought about the woman who had been the one constant in her life. The only person beside her brother to love her unconditionally before Patrick.
He helped Sophie rise when her tears had eased, and held her as she clung to him. Her arms around his back, and his around hers.
Patrick wasn’t sure how long they stood there with the sounds of nature all around them, but he would stay here all night if that was her wish.
“Thank you.” The words were hoarse as she eased back to look up at him. “Thank you so much, Patrick. This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received.”
“You must know I would do anything for you, Sophie. You and our children are my life.”
“Patrick,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “I love you so much.”
“As I love you.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “Now come, you’re cold. You can come back here in the morning and talk to your mother. Now, let us find our bed.
She took his hand again, and when they had reached the end of the small path he’d made between the flowers, Patrick looked back at the plaque.
I vow to always love and watch over your children. Rest easy, Dorothy.

THE END