Sarah cooed in her arms as Colin peeled away the wax seal on the letter.
“What does it say?” Georgina inquired as she cuddled her daughter while Anthony tugged on her cheeks gently, Sarah’s hand wrapped lovingly over his finger.
Colin regarded the letter with suspicion, as if he hadn’t been receiving them from James every month since his trip to France.
He had.
But it was Georgina who had persuaded him to open the first letter.
Across from her and her husband, her mother shook her head. “Our Sarah loved him,” she said. “We must at the very least find it in our hearts to forgive him.”
Colin lowered his eyes to the words in the letter, but he said nothing as he read.
They were gathered in the drawing room, her family and Anthony’s; they had all been here since she gave birth. They dotted upon her child, and Georgina loved them for it.
For the time being, all she wanted was Colin to forgive James. She had already done so. Perhaps it was easy for her; perhaps it was easy to make peace with her dead sister when she had her husband’s love to lean on, when she had her baby growing on her insides, kicking lovingly, reassuring her mother that she was here, and she was here to stay.
“A girl!” she remembered her mother exclaiming when the physician announced it. Anthony pressed his forehead against hers, tucking a sweat-dampened curl from her face. “We shall name her Sarah,” she said almost simultaneously with Anthony.
They had gazed upon each other, pleasantly surprised, and they had smiled.
Georgina’s past year with her family and her husband’s – her whole family had been punctuated with warm bliss. She had made her peace, and she couldn’t ask for more, except that her brother finally made his own peace too.
She stroked Sarah’s chin as she inquired again, “What does it say, brother?”
“He is in France; he is well. He likes the ships and the people.”
“That is good to hear,” said Mother.
“We should go to France,” said Anthony beside her.
Georgina turned to her husband and chided playfully, “And perhaps we shall, but hush. This moment is not ours.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, and she shook her head fondly at him. She returned to her brother. “What else does it say?”
“He has yet to forgive himself for keeping it from us. But he implores my forgiveness.” Colin shut the letter and put it away. “He will never love another woman,” added Colin, “and he implores that I write back.”
The room filled with precious silence as they all took this in.
Perched on the edge of his seat, Charles listened as he twirled a ring on his thumb. “And will you?” He inquired of his brother-in-law turned friends.
All heads turned to Colin with bated breath.
Her brother said nothing for so long that she wondered if he had heard Charles’ question. It was all in his hands now, the completion of their healing. Their new step into a fulfilled and happy future, free of the burden of the past.
Georgina watched her brother as he considered the question. Anthony’s hand was clasped gently on her back; comforting, reassuring. She leaned against his touch; he was all she would ever need.
He and their daughter, Sarah. They were her life. And she would be happy as long as they remained by her side.
Colin drew in a deep breath, and the entire room seemed to sigh with him. “Perhaps I shall,” he said as he picked up his best friend’s letter again and smoothed the creases from it. “Perhaps I shall.”
A ray of sunshine tickled Alexander’s nose, and he let out a sneeze so loud it almost shook the entire bed, sending him sitting upright. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
“Faith, we left the curtains open again,” he mumbled, but when he looked at the space, he saw it empty when he turned his attention to Lilian’s side of the bed. The outline of her head was still impressed upon the pillow, and her sheets rumpled at the foot of the bed. Alexander stretched out his hand and touched the mattress—it was warm to the touch. She’d just gotten up.
But where?
A sudden chill made him shiver, and he looked outside the window to see the branches of the ash tree heavy with snow. He slipped out of bed, but his toes curled up when he placed his feet on the floor.
“By Jove,” he muttered. The fire in the fireplace had gone out during the night. The servants were not in the habit of entering their chamber before they knew both he and Lilian had risen. They’d lived in their townhouse, a narrow, four-story home in Westminster, between their respective parents’ homes—for a little over six months now, thus making this their first winter here.
While they adored their home and the beautiful garden perfect for their frequent afternoon walks, they’d found it rather drafty in the cooler weather, never more so than today, when the first snow had fallen.
Alexander dashed across the cold floor to the desk, where he stopped to throw his banyan on as he tied it around his waist and was about to ring the bell for his valet to start the fire when his eyes settled on a note on his nightstand. He frowned and made his way there again, slipping his feet into the house shoes beneath the bed.
Then, he extracted the note from underneath the candle holder and saw Lilian had left him a message.
“Gone to see Adriana,” she’d written in her lovely handwriting. A small arrow had been drawn on the bottom, and he flicked the page, letting out a chuckle as he saw that she’d signed the letter with “This note was written by Lilian Russel, Marchioness of Sterling. Your wife.”
Ever since the debacle with the unsigned letter, she always made sure to sign her notes in this elaborate manner, and after two years, it had yet to lose its charm.
They folded the note and opened the second drawer on the nightstand, placing it within, along with the dozens of other notes. Unlike Lilian’s parents, they had decided to forgo the hiding of love notes around the house. Instead, they give them to one another and stored them on the nightstand.
Although so frequent was their habit of leaving messages for one another, they would soon need another drawer—her a bigger nightstand.
Alexander made his way down the hall and saw that the door at the end was open. He was about to burst through the door when he paused and marveled at the sight before him. Standing there, their three-month-old daughter in his arms, was Lilian.
She had her back to him; her eyes were cast toward the snowy garden below. And yet, she was a vision. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, having gotten thicker and lusher during her time with the child. Her nightgown, made of sensible cotton, swayed gently as she rocked their baby back and forth, and around her shoulders, he saw she had a large, navy-colored wool shawl.
He walked quietly so as not to wake Adriana and placed a hand on the small of her back. She turned, and her eyes widened with love.
“Darling, why are you awake? You got up twice to see to her in the night,” she gently scolded, her voice quiet so as not to wake her.
He peered down at his sleeping daughter. She was a perfect mixture of the two, with Alexander’s eyes and Lilian’s upturned nose and mouth. He still remembered when he’d first laid eyes on her after a long night spent fretting outside of the chamber in which Lilian had gone into confinement.
If not for John and his father, he might have gone out of his mind. However, with their aid—and that of several glasses of strong cognac—he’d persevered through the night. When morning broke and Lady Viola—now the Countess of Harenshire—beckoned him to enter, he felt the universe had smiled down upon him again.
Seeing his beloved Lilian with their newborn in her arms had been the most delightful view he’d ever seen, and it remained so to this day. The only moment that had exceeded it was when Lilian told him she’d found the perfect name for their firstborn—Adriana, after his brother.
“What is it?” she asked, suddenly worried. “You look as though you may cry.”
He shook his head. “I just thought back to Adriana’s birth,” he said. Of late, he’d been more prone to emotions, but they were controlled. No longer did he suffer from outbursts—or rather, very rarely. Becoming a husband and father had changed him, and for the better.
The same was true for John. While they remained prone to jesting and liked to tease each other and their wives, they were now responsible, aware of their power—and they both used it for good.
Alexander had learned more about Adrian’s plans to bring about changes for the poorest of the poor by way of passing laws in parliament. So, inspired by his brother and supported by his father and John, Alexander had set out to do just that once he and Lilian returned from their honeymoon.
While his project was still a work-in-progress, he found it fulfilling to carry on his brother’s legacy and do something good for others. One of the men who’d readily joined his plan was Lord Henry, whose father’s illness meant he would soon take his seat in the House of Lords.
They were not friends by any means, but they were related due to the marriage of Lady Viola’s cousin to Lord Henry. Distantly, but related anyhow.
“We must get ready,” Lilian said and looked at him.
“Get ready?” he blinked; the sudden change jarred him.
“The christening,” she reminded him, and he smiled.
“By Jove, yes. I almost forgot.”
They were due to attend St. Martin’s in the Field later that morning for the Christening of John and Viola’s first child, a little boy they’d named Robert, after John and Lilian’s father. After that, they were to spend the afternoon together at the home of John and Viola, which they shared with the dowager countess.
“In this weather, I think many people will be delayed,” Alexander said as he looked outside.
“Perhaps. But it is beautiful, do you not think so? It makes me think of the week we spent in the Swiss Alps on our honeymoon Grand Tour, do you recall?”
Alexander’s smile widened. “We spent most of it shut in our cabin due to the frigid cold.”
“Indeed.” She winked at him just as Adriana stirred in her arms. “Let me lay her down. The nurse will be here soon.”
While they pride themselves on taking care of their daughter without the aid of others—a stark departure from what was considered usual in their society—they did engage the help of a nurse when they had to be outside of their home—such as today.
Another such time came when Lilian undertook her weekly study group. She’d started a little gathering with the daughters of other high society ladies interested in exploring the world. It was a small group, with only five young ladies, but Lilian had inspired them all with her tales of their journey, so much so that several planned to embark on a Grand Tour of their own. If this would come to pass remained to be seen, Alexander knew it made Lilian happy to inspire other young women—even though she’d not had the chance to travel independently.
Not yet, anyhow. Lilian planned to take Viola on a journey to the vineyards of Shropshire when their daughter was old enough to be left alone, but that was several years in the future.
Lilian walked to the cot and placed Adriana back inside, covering her with two wool blankets to ensure she was not cold. The two looked down at their daughter, and then Alexander took Lilian’s hand.
As they walked back to their chamber, she beamed at him.
“I’ve not yet told you. I found a new snuffbox for your mother. Viola and I saw it at Camden in a shop. I purchased it and left it there to be engraved with Adriana’s name on the bottom. I thought we could place a lock of her hair inside for your mother.”
Alexander laughed. “I venture to say my mother has more boxes than she needs, but the idea is lovely.”
“I thought so as well. There is something rather special about the box, I dare say. It looks exactly like the one I placed my letter in.”
Alexander paused in the doorway of their chamber. They’d long tried to find a replica of the snuffbox he’d broken. While he’d managed to replace most of them with the help of his mother-in-law, they’d never been able to find the one that was most special to them all—the one Lilian had placed her letter inside. Until now.
“Are you quite certain?”
Lilian nodded. “I went inside and inspected it. I will have you know it was fortunate I arrived when I did and had it set aside because Lady Emma was there and almost bought it right out from under me.”
He rolled his eyes. Lady Emma, now nearing thirty, had married the previous year. As expected, she’d held out for a rather illustrious match and married an Italian count, a friend of the Prince Regent. They resided in London, and he had the questionable pleasure of her company more often than he liked as the lady and her husband frequented many of the same social functions he and Lilian did.
“I am certain she was quite upset when you did.”
Lilian chuckled. “I think so. She’s never forgiven me for snatching you away from her.”
“I think my ungentlemanly behavior rather disillusioned her,” he replied with a wince.
“Well, it all worked out for the best, especially for me,” Lilian replied and stepped into the chamber. She rubbed her arms and shuddered. “I will say, I am not looking forward to dressing. It is frightfully cold.”
“I agree,” Alexander said and drew her into his arms. “I have an idea that might warm us, at least for a while.”
Lilian tippled her head to one side and smirked. “I think your idea might require us to have less clothing on, resulting in us being colder than we are now.”
He clicked his tongue. “Faith, Lady Sterling, you have a rather sordid mind. No, my idea involved something rather more wholesome.” He nodded his head toward the bed. “The bed might still be warm, and I think if we cuddle up to one another, she shall warm up in no time. What do you?”
Lilian looked from the bed to Alexander and back again, and then she raced to the bed and crawled under the blanket, holding it up for him to join.
Alexander pulled the covers over them, pulled Lilian closer, and placed his lips on hers, drawing her in. When she returned his kiss and they huddled under the blanket, a warmth spread over Alexander from outside and from within.
For this, he knew, was where he was meant to be. With her. Both in this moment, and in this life. Together, and in unity surrounded by love, and happiness. Forever.
The breeze was gentle on his face, the late afternoon sun’s warmth on him a delight, as was the sound of childish laughter.
Turning to watch his son rolling on the ground giggling as the dog gamboled around him, he smiled at the beautiful sight. His son, nearly three, pushed himself to his feet and ran on tiny legs to where Carter sat. He gathered the lad in his lap, petting the dog, which came to sit at his side.
It was lovely to be here, enjoying the land—his land.
It was easy to see the entire countryside from where he sat on a slight hill. Before his eyes was a spread of greenery and the promise of growth; his manager had taken care of the estate in his absence, and the hall had been renovated the year his son was born by the same architect who had done the renovations to Watersdale Manor.
Carter sighed, his heart light as he turned to gaze upon his home. It was different than he remembered, the image of his childhood already fading from his mind. It was just as well; he could start anew with his own family on his father’s old estate.
Standing with his son in his arms, he strode back to the manor, guiding Chance along the path. The foliage began to thicken as they entered a small forest. At length, he pushed past a clump of bushes just beside the manor gardens. Then came the familiar sound of trickling water. Wandering further along the narrow path, they soon came to a clearing in the rose garden.
She was lying beside the fountain, the water spilling from the urn of a stone nymph into a small stone pool. Flowers surrounded it in a burst of color. Among the riot of blooms and under the shade of a tree, his wife was curled on her side on a blanket.
Phoebe appeared half-asleep when they came upon her. He smiled down at his wife. She looked beautiful, as always. Her hair was loose and all tousled about her. One hand was beneath her head, and the other cradled protectively around the curve of her belly; their second child was due in a month.
Setting their son down, Carter came to sit beside her, his hand on the one she held to her belly. “My love,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. At her start, he chuckled and smoothed back her hair. “Be calm, my dear. It is just me,” he assured her and drew her close.
“Oh,” she mumbled sleepily. “Where is Henry?”
He shifted as she sat up to see their son playing with Chance, throwing a stick as far back as his young arm would allow, and laughing in delight when the dog fetched it. “It would seem he is occupied.”
She glanced up at the sky and moved onto her knees to stand. “We have spent too long outside. The sun is about to set.”
Helping her to her feet, he scooped Henry up into his arms, while she guided Chance along the path back to the manor.
“Did you nap all afternoon?” Carter asked as they entered the home and Henry’s nursemaid took him to prepare for his evening bath.
“I did. This baby seems to be taking more of my strength than Henry did,” she said.
Carter led her up the stairs and into their bedchamber. He sat on the settee in front of the window, guiding her to sit between his legs. Then, he began to massage her lower back. She leaned back against him and moaned in pleasure at his ministrations.
“Perhaps your fatigue means that this one will be a girl, after all,” he murmured in her ear.
She laughed. It was an old debate. As he had with her first pregnancy, Carter still insisted that the baby would be a girl. While she secretly agreed with him, she enjoyed bickering with him about it. And she knew it didn’t matter to either of them if they had a girl or a boy. They would love the baby just as much as they did their son.
“We will find out soon enough, my love.”
“Then we can try to make another,” Carter whispered, kissing her neck seductively.
Phoebe would never tire of his lips on hers. She shifted and turned her head so he could kiss her mouth.
“I could spend several lifetimes with you like this,” he whispered, moving his mouth to kiss her neck again.
She smiled. “Several lifetimes would not suffice. That is not nearly enough time. Perhaps an eternity, instead.”
He laughed, capturing her mouth again in a soul-piercing kiss that left them both panting.
“If you insist. An eternity then, and I shall spend every moment of it loving you.”
It was chaos at Blackwall yard. Shipbuilders were a superstitious bunch, and all manner of ritual and routine was taking place to calm nerves and provoke good omens. The docks were alive with the sound of iron against iron and the groan of earnest endeavor.
Today was the launch of the newest ship in their fleet—the Brave Voyager. A steamship. It had become a familiar sight to Holly. The first night of a new ship setting sail. Nicholas stood at the head of it all. Directing, instructing, leading with typical aplomb. He had a subtle way of going about things. Never needing to raise his voice, able to soothe a temper with a smile or a handshake. Holly was nervous but also excited.
The new ship was larger than anything that could be found on their side of the Thames. With the help and investment of his father, Nicholas had grown to become a behemoth in the shipping business and there was a lot riding on the success of the Brave Voyager. If all went well, it would be twice the yield from the year past which had been their best year ever.
There were more workers now than Holly had ever imagined possible before. They’d had to extend and renovate the dockyard to accommodate more help. Good men, each one handpicked by Nicholas who was as good a judge of character as any man was like to be. Their dockyard was a place to cater to all. Both high and low. If you could work diligently and honestly, you would not be turned away from them.
The Ton had taken a particular interest in their business on account of the story and scandal that had ensued with the Duke of Exenwood’s ill-fated attempt to trap Holly in a marriage as a means of escape. For them, ‘shipping with the Flemings’ was an act of solidarity with Holly and of retaliation against Exenwood and all men of his ilk. They treated Nicholas and Holly as though they were some special monuments of love for the most part, championing their story far and wide.
Holly for her part, was scarily calm. She had been an honorary shipping woman for five years and knew that as a leader, the workers needed her to be cool when they were burning hot. Even still, what gave her a deeper, abiding confidence was the trust she had for her husband. She knew without any lingering doubt that even if the ship failed completely, he would be at her side, and they would build again. This was after all, just one aspect of what they were—not all of it.
Lord William Walsh appeared at her shoulder. “The ambition of it all is frightening,” he said, staring at the constellation of activity.
“Ambition is always a little frightening,” Holly said. “We have done this a dozen times before, only now it’s bigger.”
“Not like this, you’ve never had quite so many workers having their first voyage. There is a lot that can go wrong.”
“I believe in Nicholas, whether with ten men or with ten thousand. He is the best at this.”
William blew out an exasperated breath. “When did you become the calm one?”
She smiled. “When I married him,” she said, nodding toward Nicholas.
William smiled deeply. “Indeed.”
William made his way about the dockyard, checking that everything was almost in place. Nicholas’s idea to make him the leader of the production was a stroke of uncommon genius. Together they had devised a new technique for shipbuilding that ensured that the ships were in continuous, year-long production. The gentleman was a perfectionist in every sense of the word and had turned their dock hands into a counting, gathering, shipping machine of the most professional order. At the sight of William, the workers set their jaw, gritted their teeth, and began to look alive with purpose. He had that rare capacity to inspire excellence simply through his bearing.
“How are we looking?” Holly asked a passing worker.
He clasped his hands and nodded satisfied. “We are looking good, Mrs. Fleming. Very good.”
Holly nodded and smiled. “Good.”
Nicholas appeared at her side, and it made her instantly smile.
“We are going to have a wonderful day,” he said, smiling.
Holly nodded. “We are.”
“After this is all done, I think we should go get some ices before seeing Connor and Sybil. We can leave William to handle things while we are away.”
Holly touched her chin. “I do like the sound of that.”
Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at the workers, then turned his gaze back on Holly. “I think they are waiting to hear from you.”
“From me?” Holly asked.
Nicholas nodded. “You know they look to you when it comes to a challenging time. You are the one who inspires them the most.”
“I am not so sure about that,” Holly protested.
Nicholas gave a small laugh. “Believe me. They need to hear from you.”
Holly sucked in breath. “I suppose it might help if I said a few words.”
“It certainly would.”
She turned toward the throng of workers and spoke with her voice at even pitch. “Everyone.”
The noise dimmed to a faint murmur.
“Thank you all for working so hard to get us this far in such a short space of time. This is our largest night ever. There will be mistakes. There will be inefficiencies. But if I have learned one thing about you all these last few years, it is that you are smart, you are resilient and above all, you are talented. There is nothing you will see, say or do today that you have not seen, said, or done before. I believe in you, and I want you to try not to worry about making mistakes. If we don’t deliver this year, we will back the next one with twice the vigour.”
There were murmurs of agreement and encouragement, and Nicholas seized the moment to launch a full-scale cheer, “Long live the Brave Voyager!”
A dozen voices answered as one, “Long live the Brave Voyager!”
When it came to rousing the workers, there was none better than Nicholas. They seemed to take their energy from his and it made them work with twice the vigour and enthusiasm. His few words were all that was needed to underscore the simplicity of her own words with a sense of wilful purpose.
They finished with the workers and gave William charge of the dock while they departed for the ices. Accompanying them were two young children who stared up at them with all the love and affection that any parent could demand.
William, their youngest, ran straight for his father’s legs. He was at the age where everything was done at a hectic pace and to be absentminded for even a moment was to court disaster.
Eleanor, their older daughter had the temperament of her grandmother. A cool, inquisitive reserve with easy ancestral grace.
They stepped into the carriage and before long, arrived at Gunter’s Tea Shop.
Holly knew she would always love chocolate ices. As she stared across the table at the love of her life—she felt as she had all those years ago when he had ordered chocolate ices without needing her instructions: satisfied.
He watched her with the same intense consternation that he always had. It made her smile. There was no one like him and she counted herself among the most fortunate people on the examined earth to have Mr. Nicholas Fleming for a husband.
He rose to his feet as she finished her treat and smiled. “We should be on our way, Sybil and Connor will be waiting.”
Holly smiled as she rose to join her family, taking Eleanor by the hand.
They drew approving smiles as they walked and stepped into the waiting carriage. Eleanor wasted no time in finding her post by the window, from which point she could stare out at the changing landscape as the carriage rolled on.
Before long, they arrived at the gates to Hyde Park and the coachman drew back the reins.
William had to be restrained from bolting through the door as they made their easy dismount. They stepped past the gate and made their way to a familiar outpost beneath the coverage of a strong stately oak tree.
“Uncle Nicholas,” came the shout, even before they arrived as Sybil and Connor’s first son George came running toward them.
Nicholas caught him in a crouching embrace as their second joined in. It was a thing of everlasting intrigue how Sybil and Connor’s lives seemed to mirror their own.
Eleanor and George were barely two months apart and the younger siblings even closer in age. Their weddings had been barely months apart and here they were connected as family and happy as they had ever been.
“Mr. and Mrs. Fleming,” Connor said with a teasing smile, “It warms my heart to see you again this morning.”
Nicholas smiled. “We too are glad to see you, Mr. Walsh.”
Holly exchanged pleasantries of her own with Sybil and Connor and the picnic began.
The sun was perched at its noonday peak and the birds sang with full voice. Hyde Park was one of the very best parts of London. As close to paradise as was available to the crowned and common alike.
Nicholas dulcet baritone sounded beside her, “Do you remember when we first came here? We were just like them.”
He pointed at a young couple following the lead of the Serpentine, eyes locked tight on one another. Behind them, moving like carts behind the wagon, were a stout matronly chaperone and a thin, elegant valet.
Holly gave a small laugh. “We were nothing like that. I accepted your invitation for a walk only under duress.”
Nicholas smiled. “You only had eyes for the Duke of Exenwood then, and I was your happy accomplice in attracting his affections.”
“Did you know then? That you might have feelings for me?”
Nicholas smiled. “I did, in a way. I think I always knew that in you I would be reconciled with myself. You were always there, at the edge of my mind—a great question to which there was only one true answer. Fear, distrust, and immaturity all had their way with me at one point or another but through it all there was something about you that called out to me. So many of us long for love but lack the courage to take risks. We satisfy ourselves with decent, sometimes satisfying relationships even where love is lacking because it is safer than the unknown waters. But we cannot love rightly until we take off the mask. I was reminded of it when we were watching William learn how to walk—somehow the boy must have known that he was meant to stand on two feet, but for a time, the best he could allow himself to do was crawl. In that same way, it was hard for me to accept how easily you had stolen my heart, but the time came when I had to stand.”
Holly laughed. “I suppose then, that there is neither victor nor vanquished for you stole mine in return. I was good and ready to marry another man until you came along.”
Nicholas squeezed Holly’s hand and glanced at Connor. “What about you, old friend, did you know immediately that Sybil was the one you would love?”
Connor nodded. “She hit me like a thrown stone. Changed everything. I thought when I returned to London that I would remain a bachelor for many years before I settled at last in matrimony. I was so sure of it. From the first glance. The first time I heard her laugh. I knew my plans had to change—quickly.”
Sybil raised her chin. “It took me a while for I was not expecting Connor at all. He was so clear and honest in his affection. So gentle and kind to me. He made me laugh more than anyone ever has. How could I ever deny him?”
William and Eleanor ran across the field, giggling, and they watched as the children played with all the freedom in the world. This was what life was meant to be. An undying commitment to seizing happiness at every juncture. Five years on, she still felt that wonderful pang in her stomach whenever Nicholas touched her hand or kissed her forehead or held her close.
A figure came into view at the corner of her vision, two figures silhouetted by the afternoon sky. A young lady and her lady’s maid enjoying the weather. The young lady carried herself with an almost embarrassing freedom. The liberty of a child.
Holly narrowed her eyes. “Is that—”
“Lady Viola,” Sybil exclaimed.
Holly had never seen the woman move with such a dancer’s grace. Only then did she notice the two behind her. A little girl, perhaps a year or two older than William with long brunette curls that glistened like her mothers in the sun and a tall, handsome gentleman with a dark blue coat above black breeches.
Holly found herself smiling.
Lady Viola glanced in their direction and for one silent moment, their eyes met. Holly waved and Lady Viola’s lips curled into a smile. With a gesture to the tall gentleman, she made her way toward them.
Nicholas was the first to approach her and gave a courteous bow. “Lady Viola.”
She curtseyed in return. “Mr. Fleming,” she said with a smile. “Mrs. Fleming, and Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, it fills me with joy to see you all again.”
Connor smiled. “It was not too long ago when we were all here under entirely different circumstances.”
Lady Viola laughed. “Indeed. A lot has changed since then. I am Lady Ashcroft now.”
Holly quirked an eyebrow up at the tall gentleman who stood a few paces behind with hands clasped. “Is that your…”
“My husband, yes. Lord Ashcroft.”
At the sound of his name, the gentleman stepped forward and gave a low bow. “A pleasure to meet you all.”
Lady Ashcroft beamed. “My love, these are my old friends, the ones I have told you about. Mr. Nicholas Fleming and his wife, Mrs. Holly Fleming. Mr. Connor Walsh and his wife Mrs. Sybil Walsh.”
Lord Ashcroft nodded in acknowledgement. “My wife says great things about you all,” he nodded at Nicholas, “and you most of all, Mr. Fleming. I know you were a great help to her in a difficult time.”
Nicholas gave a crumpled smile. “You have a beautiful family, Lord Ashcroft.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
They shook hands warmly and Lord Ashcroft offered Lady Ashcroft his arm. She took it and turned back to them. “You are all welcome to pay us a visit soon. At our home on Conduit Street. It would be a pleasure to catch up properly.”
“We certainly shall,” Holly said with a smile.
With that, the former Lady Viola Acton and her husband continued their afternoon stroll with their daughter running ahead of them.
“A happy conclusion to a most unhappy circumstance,” Connor said.
“‘From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, the place is dignified by the doer’s deed’,” Nicholas added, speaking as he always did when reciting Shakespeare.
Holly tugged at her husband’s shirt gently and he drew close. “Would you like to join me for a walk, Mr. Fleming?”
His eyebrows rose and then his lips curled into a smile. “Of course, Madam.”
***
They walked hand-in-hand along a route they had trod so many times before. The misty spray of the Serpentine prickled Nicholas’s skin as they walked.
“I wanted to tell you something,” Holly began.
Nicholas nodded. “Before you do, I feel that there is something I should say—if that is all right?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Something about today and all the memories that have returned to me. I just wanted to say thank you for making everything about my life complete. Without you, I do not know where I would be. I really don’t.”
Holly gave a teasing smile. “Married to some woman or the other, I trust.”
He squeezed her hand. “And not half as happy as I am now.”
They laughed together and he turned his gaze on her, wondering what it was she had drawn his aside to say.
“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and pulled his hand over the underside of her stomach. He felt a bristling warmth and closed his eyes as he sucked in breath.
“Does this mean what I think it does?” he asked, locking eyes with her.
She blinked and nodded. “I am with child, my love. You are going to be a father to a third.”
He let out a slow, hushed breath and closed his eyes, completely overrun with joy. He dropped to a single knee and kissed her stomach twice, wrapping his arms around her. She touched the back of his neck and rolled her palm in small circles. “What did I ever do to deserve all of this?” he whispered.
“You made me a believer,” she said easily. As though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
They walked back to the picnic with beaming smiles and announced the good news to Connor and Sybil.
Connor rose to his feet and wrapped an arm around Nicholas’s shoulders. “What wonderful news! Today has given us so many reasons to celebrate.”
And celebrate they did until the sun lulled to the horizon and the park grew quiet and dim.
Nicholas stared into Holly’s eyes and smiled. Somehow, they both knew that this next chapter would be more beautiful than any that had come before.
“Eleonora,” Ida called out as she walked out of the orphanage and entered the garden to search for her little girl. “Nora?” she called again. She smiled when she saw two boys hurry in her direction and then past her, and she hoped her daughter Eleonora was in the direction they had come from.
Elias had travelled to Wellington to see his sister and her new baby girl, and Ida had chosen to stay and care for Eleonora in Chelsea until he returned. She would have liked to join him but decided she’d rather not be jolted and shaken into giving birth in a carriage. While the nanny fixed meals or sorted Eleonora’s clothing, Ida played with her daughter in the garden or told her stories in the nursery.
“My lady… you should not stress yourself,” Elizabeth said from behind her and came closer to assist Ida.
“I haven’t seen Nora all day. I thought she was out here playing in the garden, but I can’t find her,” she said. When she finished her sentence, she spotted her daughter crouched behind the huge oak tree, and relief flooded through her.
“Mother,” Eleonora called when she turned and saw Ida and Elizabeth. Ida laughed as Nora ran towards her and wrapped her arms around her mother’s legs. She leaned forward a bit and touched her daughter’s head.
“How are you, honey? I haven’t seen you in a while and I was looking everywhere for you.”
Ida saw tears in her daughter’s eyes as she spoke, and she frowned. “What is it? Why are you crying?”
Elizabeth knelt down to be on the same eye level as Eleonora, and Ida watched as Elizabeth wiped her tears away.
“Some boys took my diary, and they were teasing me about it,” Nora replied in a tearful voice. “I tried to get it back from them, and they ended up ripping it in two.”
“Oh, honey,” Ida said and took the book that her daughter’s small hands extended to her. “You don’t have to cry about this; I will get you another one if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t want them to laugh at me, mama,” she replied in an agonized tone, as Ida admired her daughter’s lovely face.
She smiled and signaled to Elizabeth to leave them alone for a bit. When they stood in the garden alone, she put a hand on Nora’s cheek and smiled at her. “I will tell you a story about a girl who kept a diary and how she met the love of her life because of it,” Ida said and led Nora to the tree so they could sit there together.
A little later, she had finished the story of how she met Elias for the first time because of her missing diary, and the good memories they had created together from that day forward.
“So, you see, you might meet the love of your life through a diary, too, honey,” she said finally, framing Nora’s cheeks with both hands so she could kiss the top of her head.
Eleonora giggled, her mood lighter, and Ida hugged her for a long time. She was smiling when she pulled back and was about to rise to her feet when she heard Elias’s voice behind her.
“Papa,” Eleonora squealed and hurried away from Ida to hug him. Ida saw him lift her off the ground, swirl her around in the air, and kiss her cheek before setting his daughter on her feet again.
“How are my two favorite women?” he asked as he helped Ida to her feet, then put his hand on her stomach before kissing her on the lips.
“I am well; how was your trip?”
“It was not the same without you, my love, but it was satisfactory because Hannah is safe, and her daughter is a beautiful, healthy baby,” he responded.
His hand moved to Ida’s back, and she laughed as she leaned her head on his shoulder and allowed him to lead her out of the garden. Eleonora, walking beside them, tugged at Elias’s hand.
“Mama told me a story about a little girl and how she met the love of her life through her diary,” she announced, giggling as she showed him the torn diary she held. “I will a keep a diary from now on, papa,” she added.
“That is a brilliant idea,” he agreed, “just be careful what kind of lists you make, and you’ll find someone worthy of your love when the time comes.” Elias took a moment to brush a hand over Eleonora’s cheek before he met Ida’s eyes, and they exchanged a reminiscent smile.
Ida felt heat rush to her cheeks because she read the passion in the way he looked at her, and she flushed at the very thought of it.
“Making lists is very exciting. In fact, I have just started writing on my old diary again too”, Ida said pointedly.
“But haven’t you found the love of your life, mama?” Eleonora asked, confused.
“Of course, my dear. That’s why I started it again, because I want to keep him forever”, she said as she looked lovingly at her husband.
That night, after returning home, she lay in Elias’s arms and listened to him talk about his trip to Wellington, and how well his family there was doing. She was glad he had them now.
“Once the baby is born, they will all come for a visit here, and you will get to meet Hannah’s little baby girl. She is so beautiful, and the duchess says she looks just as Hannah did when she was younger.”
“I am sure she is,” Ida replied and snuggled deeper into him. “How is the duchess?” Ida hadn’t seen Elias’s stepmother since Hannah’s wedding a year ago, and Elias had often been worried about her.
For a while, after the Duke of Wellington’s death, the duchess had distanced herself from everyone while nursing her grief. Ida could only hope that things were better with her now.
“She is well,” Elias replied. “I saw her smile more often during my visit; it seems that Hannah’s safe delivery and the child have brought her a new source of joy. That gladdens me.”
“Me too,” Ida agreed.
His hand came around her waist, and he pressed a kiss into the side of her neck. “I missed you,” she heard him say as his hand came around to cup her abdomen. “So much.”
“I missed you more,” she replied, “which is why I prepared a little surprise for you”, she finished as she went to her bedchambers to bring her gift, and returned in her husband’s arms. “Like I said in the morning, I have started making lists again”, she said teasingly as she gave her old diary to him. As soon as he flicked through the pages, his eyes widened. When he turned to her, she flushed at his lustful gaze.
Ida positioned herself so she could accept his kiss on the lips, and she kissed him back, pouring everything she felt for him into it.
“Do you think we will have a girl?” he asked when his kisses moved from her lips to her neck. She arched, moaning and giving him access to bring the kisses down to her cleavage.
Ida sighed when he kissed his way back up, and then pecked her on the cheeks. When he propped his head on one elbow to stare down at her, she felt a snap inside her, followed by liquid trickling down her thighs.
Her eyes widened and sought his, and, in spite of the painful cramp that followed the breaking of her water, she found herself unable to hold back a burst of laughter that erupted from deep inside her.
Tears of joy stung her eyes, and she whispered, her throat tight as the pain of her labor spread slowly. “I think we’re about to find out.”
Elias’s jaw dropped, and he asked in a shaky voice as he rose from the bed, “The baby’s coming?”
“The baby is coming,” she squealed, unable to hide her own joy as another wave of pain struck, this time forcing a groan from her lips.
Ida gave birth to a baby boy that night, and, together, she and Elias named him William. Her little family was growing, and the joy that brought—the happiness that she shared with Elias— was more than she had ever dreamed possible. Now, she had only a few things left on her new list. Elias had promised to help her cross them out. And they would start tonight. Of course, who knows, she might have already added one or two more…
***
Exciting things I would like to do with a man…
Fall in love with a gentleman.
Explore England with the man I love.
Kiss him until I’m breathless.
Ride with him in a carriage and have him hold my hand.
Look into his eyes and feel my heart thump in my chest.
Sneak out of a ball to meet my love, watch the starry night together, and lean into him to enjoy the warmth of his arms.
Dance in his arms, our movement a mimicry of what we do under the moonlight when I am naked in his arms.
Allow my love to help me undress.
Eat a late supper alone and spend the night reading poetry to each other.
Kiss him under the moonlight.
Pretend to be married for a night.
Make love until dawn.
Go horse riding with the man I love.
Spend a night under the moonlight making love.
Steal touches at a grand public event.
Kiss a man in a carriage and make love to him under the stars.
Let my love touch me in public.
Seduce him in the middle of the day.
To love and be loved.
List no 2: Exciting things I’d like to do to Elias…
