DEAR JULIETTE ▹ Anthony Bridgerton

epilogue

For, Arabella was a blessing and the world was all the greater with her presence. Juliette's life, as well as Anthony's, would be empty without the girl's giggles and dimpled smiles. Arabella, who was now all but four, was a beam of sunlight slashing through dangerous storm clouds and spreading warmth to all who were fortunate enough to know her. She had an uncanny resemblance to her aunt, Hyacinth, when she was the same age.

Anthony was adamant about Arabella being their last, fearing Juliette's next pregnancy may have a more critical outcome — death. He could not fathom subjecting Juliette to the dangers of pregnancy time again. Anthony refused to risk her life once again. Yet, a year after the birth of Arabella, the husband and wife found themselves a bit too intoxicated from a rather dull social event and in turn, reckless. Nine months and a blessedly easy pregnancy later, Florence with her round hazel eyes and rosy cheeks wormed her way into their hearts. They wouldn't wish for anything else. Florence was a blessing their lives were incomplete without. Once again, Anthony swore Florence would be their last.

Since she was young, Juliette forever yearned for a large family. She grew up without siblings and found her days in Paris to be lonely. She was thankful her children would not suffer the same fate. They would never endure a day of loneliness and the thought alone provided her comfort. Not only would they have each other, but also their extended family (which included a large sum of cousins). The thought alone comforted her greatly.

Over the years, Juliette's father often visited the growing family. The ageing man travelled to Aubrey Hall twice a year to see his grandchildren, as well as his daughter. Juliette never forgave him for his wrongful and harmful actions, yet she understood. Their father-daughter relationship never recovered to the state it was before her mother's death, but there was some recovery and there was trust. Most of all, Juliette was happy to have her father in her life and especially in the lives of her children. Silas in particular grew particularly attached to his grandpapa.

That mid-august morning, ten years after their wedding, Juliette awoke alone and cold, which was a rarity since she married Anthony. The only nights they spent apart were the ones in which Anthony was required to travel to London for business reasons. Most nights Anthony held her as she entered the land of dreams. Not once, even after a rather horrible fight, did they sleep in separate beds. As the moon seeped through the windows, bathing their skin in a whitish glow, Anthony would place a tender kiss on her hairline and bid her a loving 'goodnight, my love'. When they slept, Juliette was often nuzzled into his side or chest, and when her body wasn't pressed against his, Anthony's hand would forever find hers and intertwine their fingers. Most mornings she would wake to find her hand clasped with his or his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to his body and warm.

But, that morning she was cold.

A chill swept through their bedroom from the slightly ajar window, nipping at Juliette's skin that was left unprotected in the absence of her husband's presence. With a sorrowful sigh and desperation for a sliver of warmth, she pulled the bedding closer to her body, the soft linen bunched beneath her chin. When she did so, she noticed a folded piece of parchment slide across the bed with the bedding. She reached out and plucked it from the bed, only a foot away from her nose, and unfolded the paper with a gentle touch. Immediately, a petite smile pulled at her lips as she was met with the familiar slant and shape of her husband's cursive.

My dearest Juliette,

I could not bear the guilt of waking you, my love. Words could never sufficiently describe your immense beauty this morning as the streams of sunlight snuck between the drapery and kissed your skin. I am forever in awe of your effortless allure. I fall further in love with you as each day passes.