“And a treat for these young and virile eyes.” Lachlan winked at her.
“You two.” Evalyn shook her head, not able to hide the blush creeping into her face, nor the smile lifting her lips. “You two are more alike than either one of you would ever admit.”
“Our uncanny charm?” Lachlan offered.
“Something akin to that.” She handed one of the glasses to her husband, her fingers pausing soft on the side of Dunkin’s face for a long moment before she turned back to the table and picked up her glass.
“We’re all here.” She lifted her goblet. “Shall we celebrate?”
“Remind me again what we’re celebrating?” the marquess asked, his glass as high as his creaky elbow would allow.
“The day, Grandfather.” Lachlan motioned with his goblet at the perfectly bright and clear day bathing them. He looked down at Dunkin, his lips going to his bairn’s brow in a sweet kiss. “The sunny day. Do you need more than that?”
“A sunny day? Hmm.” The marquess shook his head slightly, then tipped back his goblet of wine for a long sip. He lifted the glass again. “The wine is good, so fair enough. To the sun.”
Evalyn smiled, lifting her glass. Indeed.
To the sun. To the warmth. To her family. To peace.