The carriage rolled to a smooth stop in the grand, torchlit courtyard of the Carson mansion. The footman opened the door, and Eric stepped out first, his face lit with a warm, easy smile. He turned and helped Delia down, his hands gentle on her waist. Then, he reached back in and lifted a sleepy but excited Owen into his arms.
A line of maids stood ready at the grand entrance. "Welcome, Your Grace. Welcome, Duchess. Welcome, young master," they greeted with deep, respectful curtsies. They took their coats and Delia's belongings, the whole process a smooth, practiced routine of a well-run household.
Delia put her hand on Eric's arm as he, still holding Owen by the hand, led them inside.
"The children have arrived!" Elena's happy voice called out from the drawing room. She rushed to greet them, her usual stern demeanor completely replaced by the joyous, doting expression of a great-grandmother.
