Epilogue
Emma and James’s wedding took place in early November, in the latter part of autumn when the trees were almost bare. They were married in the little church adjoining Birney House. To Emma’s delight, large numbers of the ton attended, and no one asked any awkward questions about where she’d been hiding herself these past few years.
In the months leading up to the wedding, she’d remained in the household of the Earl and Countess of Rossbury. The countess warmed to her considerably after her son announced his news and confided in Emma that she’d always thought that—with a little careful nurturing—she might turn out well. Emma accepted this faint praise with equanimity. Now that she was sure of James’s love, nothing could dim her happiness.
Shortly before the wedding, she learned Charles Keane had quit the country. Apparently bored with the restrictions of English Society, he’d left for India, to join the East India Company in their wars against the Maratha Empire, and hopefully make a fortune for himself—as Robert Cornwallis had done. The rest of the Keane family, bound forever to keep the secret of Emma’s service in their household, came to the wedding, and the reunion with Mary and a much-recovered Willie added to her joy.
That entire day, her heart was so full she feared it might burst.
James had already taken her to inspect his estates at Westwater and Langley. Both were so delightful that she couldn’t choose a preferred place of residence—they agreed they could be equally happy at each. But there was one place which remained a mystery to Emma, and that was the destination of their bridal trip.
The day of their departure was dry and fine, with a chill wind rattling the last of the leaves. Bundled up in traveling rugs, she sat huddled close to her new husband, trying—and failing—to get him to say where they were going.
His blue-gray eyes were alight with his secret, but he refused to say a word, just looked at her teasingly and kissed her thoroughly each time she was inclined to pout. When the coach set out northward, she started guessing. Perhaps they were going to Wales, or the Marches, or maybe even Scotland—though to travel that far so late in the year was a daunting prospect.
Then, as the farms and woods they were passing became increasingly familiar, she sat forward in her seat, exclaiming, “Why, this is the way to Tresham! Are you taking me home?”
“Indeed. I wanted you to see what I’ve done with the place.”
She stared out of the window, utterly conflicted, as the neatly clipped hedges flew past. Why did James want her to see all the alterations he’d made to her home? He knew she preferred it as it had been, that she’d hated his plans to gut it and change it beyond recognition. This was most insensitive of him.
Soon, the old brick chimneys of the house poked up above the trees. Pungent wood-smoke issued from their tops.
Her heart froze. How was she to keep her countenance in front of all the veterans? She didn’t want them to think she resented their presence. She’d have to summon up all the sangfroid she could manage.
But the place was strangely quiet. As James handed her down from the coach, she noticed a few men working in the gardens, raking over the flowerbeds and deadheading the last of the roses. Were these some of the veterans, those still fit enough to do physical labor?
She was even more puzzled when they entered the Great Hall. Instead of a group of uniformed nurses, they were met by a staff of liveried servants who scurried out to fetch their bags from the carriage.
She turned to her husband questioningly, but he just gave her one of those looks that turned her insides to hot butter and angled his head toward the front parlor.
A blazing fire greeted them from the freshly swept hearth, and as she looked around, she realized the room was filled with familiar furniture—furniture her family had been forced to sell over the last few years.
She gazed up at James, who was looking smug. “I traced it,” he informed her with a grin. “Every last scrap of it, and bought it all back. A team of upholsterers has been hard at work, mending, darning, re-covering—so everything’s good as new. I’ve had to make a few concessions to fashion and comfort, but you’ll find the house much as it was long before you ever left for Figheldene.”
“But what— Why—?” She took his hand to steady herself. “This doesn’t seem like a house for soldiers.”
“No, my love. The subscribers have agreed to pay for a new hospital on the outskirts of Bath. I convinced them the veterans would rather be within reach of the healthy amenities and diversions of the city. So, Tresham can be our home now. If you wish it, that is.”
Of course she wished it! But how had he recalled she didn’t want it refurbished? She’d avoided talking about it during their courtship, not wanting to tarnish their joy. He had mentioned the project but rarely, preferring to spend their time together in pure, delicious, mutual exploration.
Perhaps this was the secret of their love—that ability to communicate without words.
This was the best wedding gift she could ever have hoped for.
He stood quietly beside her, watching her expression with that tender look in his eyes she loved so well. But there was a vulnerability there, too. He needed to know he’d done the right thing.
She needed to show him that he had.
“Oh, James!” She threw herself at him, showering his face with kisses, and he picked her up and swung her around and around until she collapsed, laughing and dizzy, into his arms.
He held her away from him, and when she looked up into his beloved face, he winked at her and said, “Perhaps you’d like to see the main bedchamber? It’s been improved and redecorated, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”
Her insides melted yet again, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, I’d love to see it.”
“I doubt there’s a fire in there,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “so we might not want to stay for long.”
“Don’t worry, my love,” she replied, shooting him a coquettish look. “I have great faith in my ability to keep you warm.”
He laughed and returned her look with a hungry, feral grin. Then he scooped her up and carried her into their bedchamber.
And locked the door behind them.
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