The footmen stepped forward in perfect unison for the pair of carriages, Gage stepping out of the first while John Roskelley alighted from the second, turning to help his wife and cousin down.

“Nadelik Lowen!” Adelaide called merrily, clasping her hands together.

Gage bowed with a boyish grin. “Meur ras. Don’t ask me anything else. I haven’t learned any new Cornish words since I was eleven, much to the shame of my ancestors.” He stepped forward and shook Harrison’s hand, plucked Adelaide’s hand up for a kiss, and pulled Emblyn into his side for a brotherly hug. “Compliments of the season, all. Did my man see the venison brought over for you?”

Adelaide scowled at him, though it failed to have any darkness in it. “He did, and I may never forgive you. It was entirely unnecessary.”

“Not at all,” Gage quipped shamelessly. “I could never eat all the venison from this year’s hunt, so why not share the bounty with my friends?” He waved at the approaching Roskelley party as though he were the host and not Harrison. “John, have you found your costume for Twelfth Night yet?”

“Why?” Julia demanded mid-curtsey. “Do you wish to dress to match?” She winked at Adelaide. “Good evening, Adelaide. Basset. Emblyn. You all remember my cousin Honora?”

Harrison smiled warmly at the pretty young woman, her deep auburn hair coiled neatly into a sort of crown he found rather festive. “Welcome to Trevadden, Miss Honora. Happy Christmas.”

“Thank you for the invitation, my lord,” she answered in a soft but somehow not quite meek voice. “May I wish you the compliments of the season?”

“Thank you.” He bowed slightly and gestured toward the house. “Please, everyone, come in.”

“Yes, yes!” Adelaide insisted, waving them all inside. “Come sit by the fire and warm yourselves!”

Emblyn laughed at them both, shaking her head. “I s’pose ee mus’ all come inside, as they both say so.”

Their guests laughed as they all entered Trevadden, and Harrison had the fleeting impression of family unity and entertainment. Of course, they were a family in the technical sense, but as for the feeling of actually being a family, he had not had that in many, many years. If ever.

He looked at the woman walking beside him, her hand absently falling to her swollen abdomen, a smile on her perfect lips.

She was his family. And she was carrying another member of his family. And she was embracing the closest member of his family nearly as much as he did. She was helping him create this family. Who would have thought either of them capable of such a thing?