A Night Rose for the Duke Bonus Scene

Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh as she watched Brighton pull his sister's hair for the fifth time that afternoon. His dearest cousin, Geraldine, rose up in Louisa's defence and pulled his hair in return.

"Aunt Eleanor!" he cried out in protest.

All of the children turned to look at her. Resisting the urge to smile, she stood up from the chair where she had been sitting, in order to go settle the quarrel.

Brighton was the image of feigned innocence. Louisa looked annoyed, as she had the right to be, and Geraldine... God save Eleanor's soul, but her daughter looked proud of herself.

If she wasn't so tired, she would have let out the laughter that stirred her insides, in that moment.

Geraldine did the honours. She pointed at Brighton with her adorable little finger.

"He started it, Mother. You said not to pull anyone's hair, any longer. You said not to fight. But Brighton did just that. We cannot keep letting him get away with it."

Her world. Geraldine was the first child the Virgin had blessed her and Charles with. They had named her Geraldine because it had been Eleanor's mother's name.

The child was only eight summers old, yet she was the wisest little girl Eleanor had ever known. Many times, when she spoke, she rendered everyone speechless.

Heaving another sigh, she bent so that she could be at eye level with them. Softly, she corrected. "A little scolding would have been just fine, Geraldine. Pulling his hair in return has made you no better than him."

"You always give him a little scolding, but he ends up doing it again. Louisa has told me it hurts. He cannot continue to hurt her simply because he's her older brother. He needs to know how much it hurts too!" she argued vehemently.

Eleanor could not deny that her logic was reasonable, still, she did not want her daughter going about, pulling people's hair. Brighton was six years older than her. He towered above her and, as her older cousin, he deserved her respect.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, Geraldine? Brighton is your older cousin and you have to accord him some regard, no matter what. Now, apologise to him and promise it will never happen again."

Geraldine's lip settled into a pout and she crossed her arms. "Only if he apologises to Louisa first."

Eleanor's eyes would have widened in wonder if she did not already know the kind of girl her daughter was.

"Fair enough. Brighton, apologise to Louisa and promise that you will never do that again. If you break your promise, you know what that means?"

"That I am not a good boy?"

"You are fourteen summers old now, Brighton. You are fast becoming a man. A man must be gentle, and he must be kind. He must respect and protect his ladies... Just like your father and your uncles do. Do you see them pulling any lady's hair?"

He shook his head, remorse masking his face.

"Good. And a man also keeps his word. Have you been doing that, Brighton?"

He shook his head once more.

"If a man fails to keep his word, he will not be easily believed or taken seriously. He will not be relied upon. Are you telling me I cannot rely upon you, Brighton?"

This time, he looked away, his face falling to the ground. "No, Aunt Eleanor," he replied softly.

"You have done wrong, Brighton, and it mustn't continue. Go on ahead now, tell your sister what you have to."

He looked up then, at his sister who had been observing the entire scene play out quietly. She was three years younger than him, but already such a beauty. She was also a calm, quiet one.

He took her hand, and gave it a kiss as he bowed. "Forgive me, Louisa. I shall never do it again."

The sight made Eleanor's heart warm. When she saw Louisa light up, her lips curled into a smile.

"Apology accepted," the sweet girl replied.

"I never meant to hurt you. I was simply doing it because I enjoy playing with your hair."

Eleanor heard the words he would not say. He loved his sister, and this was his way of showing it.

Her sons, James and Benjamin, were much younger than he was. They were twin boys of only four years. Frances had given birth to her triplets - boys as well - the same year Eleanor had had hers.

They often came around for the summer such as this time, for Eleanor loved having them there. Whenever they did, Brighton often felt like the odd one. He had no boys of his age to play with. Hence, his fascination with his sister's hair.

"It is fine, brother. You can play with it, if you like. You just do not have to pull it so hard. It does hurt."

"I will never hurt you, Louisa. You must know that."

"Yes, I do."

It was settled then. He pulled her into an embrace and when he released her, he gifted her cheek with a beautiful kiss.

This time, Eleanor let a soft chuckle leave her lips.

"That was beautiful of the both of you. See that, Geraldine? Now, do the same."

Geraldine, sweet soul that she was, was more than happy to settle her argument now that she had seen Brighton do what needed to be done.

"Forgive me, cousin. I apologise."

Before Brighton could respond, she rose on her tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Brighton flushed pink, and Eleanor laughed a little more this time.

All was well with the world again, and, as they ran off, she spied the other boys building stacks at the other side of the small garden where they loved to play.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she did not make a move to turn around. When the person came to a stop beside her, she smiled and leaned into him.

"I thought you would not come any closer."

Charles mirrored her smile as his arms went around her. "I had to make certain that the coast was clear, and I wasn't sending myself into a war zone."

"Ah! How noble of you. Leave me alone to handle battle. I should be Eleanor the Great."

"Indeed. You should be. You seem to be great at these things. We must also remember that it is you who insists the children must always come for summer."

"It would not be so tiring if their mothers did not leave me alone all day to do all the work," Eleanor said, but without any true bitterness behind her complaint.

Charles chuckled and began to rub her arms to appease her. The caress achieved its purpose, giving her soul peace and filling her with the kind of happiness only this man could give her.

"They have only been gone for a few hours, Eleanor. They will be back from the market soon."

Tearing her watchful eyes away from the children, she turned in his arms, so that she faced him. To anyone watching from afar, they would appear to be in an embrace. Eleanor did not mind. She was joyous and she did not care to hide from the world the extent of her love for her husband.

"I suppose they will. At the very least, I have you here with me."

His smile grew wider and he drew in to kiss her forehead. The affectionate gesture tugged at her heart's strings.

When he pulled away, she saw that his cheeks had gone a few shades darker. It pleased her.

His arms came around her fully and her head naturally found rest on his chest.

"How did you know I was standing behind you?"

"After all these years, dear husband, you should know that I feel your presence, just as much as you feel mine."

"Yes, that is true." He paused as he let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. "I bless the day I met you, Eleanor. I never knew that we would come to this. I never knew that I would find this bliss, this perfection with you. When I look at all that we have now, I laugh, remembering that I was once afraid, uncertain, doubtful. Every day now, I keep seeing for certain that we were made for each other."

His words warmed Eleanor, on the inside and on the outside. They had been married for ten years. It had been ten years of love and peace. Ten years of seeing that the good Lord perfected all in time.

"All the hurt of the past has been forgotten. It is easy to see why we had to endure the pain. How else would we appreciate what we have now found in one another? For some people, love like this, they find it early and they never lose it. For people like us, we had to go through many difficulties."

"Yes. After all is said and done, dear wife, what matters is that we were able to find our way back to each other."

She pulled away then, to search his eyes, to show him how much she loved him through hers. "Bless the Virgin who interceded for us."

His hands came to cradle her face, and he brought her closer yet again, and kissed her lips.

"Bless the Virgin," he replied.

Just as they made to hug again, a cry pierced through the air, pulling them apart.

"Mother!"

It was James, and that was the cry of trouble. Charles and Eleanor looked in their direction, and back at each other.

"You are their father, Charles. Go be their saviour."

When he looked like he would argue, she rose on her tiptoes and dropped a soft kiss, quickly on his lips.

"This woman loves you, dear husband."

Before her eyes, he dissolved into a puddle of water. Her husband, Duke of Finchester. She was the only one who had the power to make him this way.

"Goodness, but you do not fight fair, woman."

She smiled, enjoying her victory. "All is fair in love and war. Your children await you."

"Our children, Eleanor. Our children. For that and more, this man loves you, dear wife."

Her eyes filled with tears, but he did not see it. For by the time they fell down her cheeks, he was already getting James to laugh.

Like Charles had said, it wasn't long before Frances and Rachel arrived from the market. Eleanor held her peace until dinner as they all sat around the table, enjoying the lovely variety of courses that had been prepared by Gertrude, the cook.

Thomas and Edwin were not in Finchester as they had other matters to attend to. The Dowager Duchess and Gaius, however, were visiting, so they were present.

They all listened attentively as Eleanor told the tale of her travails where the children were concerned. Everyone laughed at the parts they considered funny, and the children tried not to appear so shy at the fact that they were the subject of discussion that evening.

"You always seem to have an exciting day whenever we are not around, Eleanor," Rachel observed as Eleanor finished telling her tale.

"Do tell me about it. I do believe the children are in an agreement to make me lose my mind with their antics."

"Yet, next summer will roll by, and you shall ask that we visit, once again," Frances said, smiling.

"Oh well, I suppose it is the truth that, despite all, I cannot seem to have enough of them."

The Dowager Duchess's eyes twinkled as she joined the discussion. "Mayhap, you and Charles would begin to consider expanding your family."

As the implication of the Dowager Duchess's words registered, Eleanor's cheeks flamed and she suddenly felt flushed. Everyone else rumbled with laughter. Even Charles had a small smile on his face, though the joke was at their expense.

Eleanor looked at the children and enjoyed the wave of relief that washed through her when she saw that they remained oblivious.

"Three is more than enough, Your Grace. There will always be more children on the streets to take care of," she replied softly, as she tried hard to hold back a smile of her own.

"Yet, see how the two of you turn pink at the mention of it!"

This time, when everyone gave in to laughter, she did too, letting herself enjoy these happy moments. It had always been like this amongst all of them, since marriage had made them all one big family.

Yes, she still took care of many children. She had handed over Grenshire to Benjamin's young nephew, but she still received reports and oversaw the orphanage she had built.

It was the same for the orphanage in London. And in her first three years in Finchester, she had founded another orphanage. She saw to it that the children were well-fed and taken care of.

Apart from this intimate family, she still maintained a good relationship with her father. Her step-mother was still estranged, though Eleanor had forgiven her. Her step-sister, Anna, and Luke, had returned six years ago.

They had sought her out and had apologised to her. She had let them know that forgiveness had been granted many years before.

Frances and Edwin were happy. As were her mother-in-law and her husband.

All was well in Eleanor's life, and every day, her soul sang songs of thanksgiving.

As dinner went on, she touched her hands to her abdomen and said a little prayer for the little life that had begun to grow in her again.

Feeling the eyes of the man she loved on her, she looked up at him and saw the question in them. He did not yet know, since she had only recently found out herself. Slowly, she nodded in response.

Her love for him soared when he instantly lit up and gently took her hand to kiss her knuckles. It made her feel warm and beautiful and all kinds of good.

If anyone ever asked her if "happily ever afters" existed, she would tell them her story.