Daughter on his Doorstep (HC #2)

Epilogue

13 years later

Daniel Vincent Humphrey was uncomfortable. This was not entirely unexpected.

Raising one hand, he tugged at his tight cravat, hoping that if it loosened, he might be able to breathe a little easier. His hand was slapped away gently.

"¡Basta!" His daughter glowered up at him from beneath dark eyebrows as she continued to intricately tie his neckcloth. "Don't play with it, Father – you'll ruin it!"

Before he could suggest that breathing was not recreational, there was a laugh at the door. He recognised the chuckle – it was burned into his soul – and he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. His smile was half greeting, half plea.

Thomas chuckled again and pushed himself away from the doorframe. "Isa, por favor, leave your poor father alone. He's much more useful to us alive."

The man was barely physically changed from when they had met, his hair and skin holding up well in the face of time. In contrast, Vincent sometimes felt as if he had aged too quickly, his hair showing the worst of it with streaks of grey and a hairline that began at least a fingerbreadth further back than it had a decade ago. He was distracted as Thomas wrapped his arms around his waist, his chest pressed to Vincent's back in a way that still made Vincent's heart thump.

He leaned back into him, voice pitched low. "Useful?"

He felt another chuckle rumble through him. "Valuable?" Thomas offered instead. "Appealing?" This time, he pressed a single kiss to the skin behind Vincent's ear. Vincent flushed.

Oblivious – perhaps by choice – to this interaction, Isabela stomped her foot, her hands moving down to clench against her waist as she glared up at the pair.

"Lupe says this is the height of fashion, Papa! You would know that if you considered getting a new valet..." This last was grumbled; a familiar argument.

Vincent caught her hands in his as they floated back towards his cravat from their petulant place on her hips. He sent her a very even look. "The... I... Eugene has been with us since you were still in the nursery. Would you really have us discard him over something as trivial as fashionable cravats?"

Their daughter let out a long, pained sigh. "No."

Thomas hid his grin in Vincent's neck for a moment before he could offer Isa advice with a straight face. "Perhaps you could write to Lupe and ask if she knows of any simpler fashionable styles. That way, you might be able to teach Eugene." His composure didn't last long. "Or perhaps you can incorporate the cravat into your own wardrobe!"

Isa huffed, tugging her hands free from her father's, and setting them on her hips again. Her dress was pale blue, embroidered with delicate flowers – one of many flower girls that Phil had enlisted for her wedding day – and both of her fathers noticed how careful she was not to disrupt the fine material. "¡Estás siendo tonto!" she muttered at her papa, rolling her eyes at them and stomping from the room.

"You look beautiful Isa," Thomas called after her with a laugh, still not releasing Vincent. "¡Te amamos, mija!"

There was a slight pause in her footfalls. "Yo también te amo..." It was said almost grudgingly. Then they heard her hurry off.

Both men shook their heads.

"We either raised her terribly or perfectly – it's difficult to tell!" Thomas released Vincent and moved to face him, gently untying his cravat. Rather than replace it, he tugged it away with a smirk, the fabric fluttering to the floor behind him.

Vincent rolled his eyes, but couldn't deny the fire in his belly. Even after all these years, he loved this man. They were partners, husband and husband without the paperwork, and regarded as such by the entire Humphrey clan and all the attachments they'd made over the years. Invitations to events bore both their names and they attended together or not at all. Perhaps there were fewer invitations than the other Humphrey siblings received, some ignorant members of the Ton attempting to assert their dominance, but if either man had noticed they'd never mentioned it to anyone. They lived their life peacefully and happily.

They'd fought, of course. Thomas had overstepped and Vincent had questioned. They had both had moments of hesitation. And yet, they always found their way back to each other... to their family.

Thomas' hand was just snaking inside Vincent's shirt, fingertips running across the skin at his waist, when he paused. "Damn," he cursed, glancing towards the door. "I meant to warn Isa not to go to Phil."

He pecked Vincent quickly, and then strode to the door, glancing out into the corridor in both directions.

"What's wrong with Phil?" Vincent asked, stepping after him in concern. He had five siblings and that day marked the inclusion of his fifth in-law. Vincent had long accepted that weddings were stressful affairs.

"Oh nothing, nothing." It was dismissive, said out-out-hand as he scanned the hallway. Quickly, he gave up, shrugging and closing the door on them. "I'm sure it will be fine."

His partner was not easily put off, and as he turned back to the room, he saw Vincent's frown. "I may have been embroiled in some mischief this morning." It was a confession with no hint of guilt. His smirk was clear as day.

Vincent's concern faded and he rolled his eyes. "Oh?"

"Completely harmless!"

"If... The...Matt's idea, I presume?" His younger brother might have been approaching the threshold of middle-age, but that had not impeded his antics.

Thomas was grinning as he crossed the room. "No, actually. It was Beth's!" He dipped his head at Vincent's surprise. "Though Matt was also there."

"Of course." As Thomas reached him, Vincent's hands rose of their own volition to catch him by the cheeks, drawing him in for a long kiss. When they separated, both were just out of breath. They rested their foreheads together. "We've about an hour until the ceremony."

Thomas nodded slightly, tilting his head to kiss Vincent's cheek. "You could write some new laws in that time."

"Indeed." Vincent's fingers were at Thomas' waistband. "You could be going over the Pride's ledgers."

Thomas laughed lightly, but it ended in a sharp intake of breath as Vincent's hand ventured further. "Or...?"

"Or."

It was a different life than perhaps either of them had imagined, but it was perfect in its way. Thomas had a family. Isa was surrounded by love. And Vincent was forever grateful they'd both turned up on his doorstep.