Henrietta blinked awake to find herself in her bedchamber at the Old Bell Inn. She did not remember falling asleep, nor did she remember being brought there. Indeed, the last thing she recalled was the life being squeezed out of her, and the sight of Ewan coming to her rescue. Her throat felt dry and her temples throbbed, her eyes sensitive to the light coming in through the window.

What time is it? It was dark when Gerome tried to strangle me. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this was heaven instead. Did I die back there on the bridge? Is this what awaited me on the other side of the pearly gates?

“Henrietta, are you awake?” a familiar voice murmured. A moment later, Ewan’s face came into view. She turned slowly to face him as he perched on the edge of the bed and took her hand.

“I… think so. It is somewhat difficult… to tell,” she rasped.

“Do not try to move too much. You must rest,” he urged, brushing his thumb across her hand. “You had me worried, my Lady.”

She smiled. “I was Henrietta a moment ago.”

“No matter what I call you… you are my dearest love,” he confessed, his voice catching in his throat. Tears glittered in his eyes, though they did not spill over. “I thought I had lost you back there. When Gerome tried to kill you, I thought my heart would break. I could not stand to lose you, when I have only just found you. The woman who has brought joy back to a formerly grim world.”

“You saved me,” she murmured.

“Even then, I sensed you slipping through my fingers. I think the heavens were smiling down on us, for had I not taken hold of your gown… well, I do not like to dwell on it.”

She chuckled softly, her throat raspy. “You are much too gloomy, my Lord Marquess. I am alive, and you are beside me. What is there to be morose about?”

“You almost died.”

“But I did not.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “How can you see the good in everything? How is possible after what you have endured?”

“There is no use in bearing grudges,” she replied. “We have both seen where that can lead. We must count today as a blessing, for our hearts are beating, and we are young and healthy.”

“Some of us being healthier than others,” he teased, lifting her hand to his lips.

“My lips do ache, my Lord.”

He chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Oh, they are terribly painful.”

“Well, I had best avoid them then.”

She pulled a face, which only made him laugh harder. She liked the way he laughed—he was so much more handsome when he was in good spirits, his eyes twinkly and full of vitality.

Slowly, he leant towards her, pressing his lips to hers in a tender kiss. His thumb brushed the apple of her cheek as he kissed her again, before pulling away. A pleased smile remained fixed upon his face. Indeed, she found one upon her own lips, for though she had suffered much, she had awoken to her dear love by her bedside. There could be no better feeling.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“As though I came face-to-face with death.”

“May I fetch you anything?”

She shook her head stiffly. “No, I am quite happy for now. Although, what time is it? My last memory is of darkness, and yet, there is sunshine streaming in through the windows.”

“You have been asleep for a long while,” he explained. “It is the afternoon after the ball. I brought you back, though you were unconscious at the time. A physician has been and gone, but he does not think there will be any lasting damage.”

“That is good to hear.” She paused. “And where did my father go? He was on the bridge, was he not?”

Ewan nodded. “He was. When Gerome released his grasp on the rope, he attempted to escape. Your father and I chased after him and apprehended him in some nearby woods.”

“You know… I rather feel sorry for Gerome. He must have had such a terrible childhood, and to have that much hatred in his heart—he must have suffered a great deal.”

Ewan stared at her. “You cannot be real. Surely, you are an angel that has been sent to make us all feel inferior in our judgments. How can you pity him, after what he did to you?”

“He never knew love,” she explained simply. “He does not know the meaning of it, and that is tragic in itself. To feel so abandoned and to have no mother to care for him… it would be enough to send anyone towards the brink of insanity.”

“You are remarkable. Truly remarkable.”

Henrietta giggled. “What happened to him?”

A sad look crossed Ewan’s face.

“Ewan—what happened to him?” She feared the worst; that he was dead, having been brought to a swift justice by Ewan or her father.

“You may not like what I am about to say.”

“Say it regardless,” she urged, sitting up slowly.

“Well… he and your father spoke, whilst we were in the woods. I did not hear the conversation, but they came out of the woods together. Your father informed me that Gerome will be staying at the Oliver residence until further notice, under a watchful guard. He said that he wished to make amends, and it was the only way he knew how—to offer Gerome shelter and kindness, not to mention forgiveness.”

Henrietta frowned. “You do not approve?”

“He tried to kill you, Henrietta. I cannot forgive that.”

“Maybe, in time, you will come to.”

He shook his head. “You cannot tell me that you forgive him?”

“Maybe, in time, I will also. For now, it may be best if we do not visit my former home… not for some time.”

“A very sensible idea,” he commended, with a smile.

“Wait… does that mean that my mother and father have already departed?”

“No, they have lingered awhile. Your father’s men have taken Gerome back to your former home, where they will guard him until your father’s return.”

She sighed with relief. After coming so close to death, she longed to see her Mama and Papa, even if her father had just agreed to take Gerome into his house. She could understand the reasoning, from her father’s perspective, but it made things somewhat awkward. After all, it did not alter the fact that he had almost murdered her. Indeed, she did not quite know how to react. Should I be angry? She did not feel angry. Should I be upset? She did not feel upset.

“I suppose that his escape was a blessing, then,” she said decisively.

“Pardon?”

“Well, if Gerome had not escaped, then there would be no hope for reconciliation or forgiveness. If he had killed me, then he would have hanged for it. This way, there is the possibility of happy conclusion.”

Ewan laughed. “See… remarkable.”

“I think it is more that I am attempting to convince myself,” she admitted. “Whilst I remember, what happened to Mr. Booth? I suppose we owe him something of an apology, though it will pain me to do so. He was innocent of these threats, but he was a vile man prior. His innocence does not change that.”

“Ah, so you are human,” he teased. “Never fear, you do not even have to see Mr. Booth if you do not wish to. He has returned to the employ of Lord Averson with his reputation bolstered and is to stay on at his Scarborough residence for the foreseeable.”

“I suppose that is fortunate for him. And his wife?”

“She is to stay with him. Your father has also offered them a small sum of money, so that they may live in some comfort,” he explained. “He did not know about Isobel’s existence, but I told him of her warning to you, and your father duly rewarded her. Not Mr. Booth himself, I hasten to add.”

“And you say that I am your dearest love?” She looked up into his eyes, registering his surprise.

He smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are, my love. I did not know before, but yesterday made me see clearly. I have avoided happiness for so long for fear of losing it, but I cannot deny my feelings for you.” He dipped his head shyly, before lifting his gaze again. “I love you, Henrietta. I am sorry it has taken me so long to realize it.”

Her heart swelled. “And I love you, Ewan, though I will not call you Ewan often. I much prefer the way my Lord Marquess irks you, and one should always tease in a marriage.”

“I think you may be too fond of teasing,” he replied, his face beaming with happiness.

“Perhaps,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Now, I had a thought whilst I was asleep, which I hope you will agree to.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Go on…”

“Well, as you and I did not have the most orthodox of starts to our marriage, I was wondering if we might have a party of sorts at Nightingale. To us, it would be a wedding—a true one, borne of love and affection. To others, it would simply be a celebration. What do you say?”

“Will you wear a grass-stained dress again, with your hair in tangles?”

She chuckled. “Would you have me any other way?”

“I would not, my love. I truly would not,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think a wedding sounds like a wonderful idea. I should like to kiss you at the altar and not run from the church this time. Moreover, I would like to see you smile as we commit ourselves to one another, instead of cry.”

“Oh, there may well be tears,” she warned. “But they will be the happiest of tears.”

“Then we shall make it so.”

A knock at the door distracted them from their cheerful reverie, bursting the bubble of their quietude. A moment later, Tabitha’s face appeared around the doorway. Without waiting for permission, she burst into the room and threw herself upon her daughter, cradling her in her arms.

“I was so worried!” Tabitha shrieked. “Your father told me what happened, and I have not been permitted to see you until now. Can you fathom it? Why, I almost beat that Ronscales fellow about the head with the morning paper for denying me entry. But here you are, awake and well. Oh, you cannot understand how glad I am. My dear, dear girl.”

Henrietta wrapped her arms tight around her mother and held her close. She smelled of rosewater and anise, the aroma familiar and nostalgic. Nothing more needed to be said between mother and daughter, for their mutual relief was tangible.

“You must never do such a dangerous thing, ever again,” Tabitha said, as she pulled away. “I do not know how I might have coped without you.”

“You do not need to, Mama. I am here, as you see me.”

“And have you heard what your foolish father has done?” she muttered. “Why, I have half a mind to live elsewhere until that vile man is gone from our home.”

Henrietta smiled. “He must be forgiven, Mama. It will take time, but if he is worthy of it, then he will earn it. Papa must earn some forgiveness too, for the errors in his youth.”

As if summoned by the mention of his endeavors, Aaron entered the room, looking suitably sheepish. Henrietta could tell that he had garnered an earful from his wife for deigning to accept Gerome into their house. No doubt, he had done so without consulting her first. A palpable tension bristled between them as her father approached, though Henrietta felt only gladness. They had all survived, and that was worth being joyful about.

“You are awake,” he said plainly. “I am pleased to see some color in your cheeks.”

Tabitha tutted. “No thanks to you and your useless men.”

“Tabitha, my love. I—”

“Don’t you ‘Tabitha, my love’ me. I will not hear a word of it, not until I decide to forgive you for this,” she said firmly. “You are fortunate that you have such a lenient daughter, for she has decided to side with you. I cannot comprehend why, but she has always been headstrong. Another trait of yours.”

Henrietta grinned, flashing a conspiratorial look at Ewan. “It is good to see you, Papa.”

“And you, my dearest girl,” he replied, relief visibly washing over him. “How do you feel?”

“As though I am on the road to recovery.”

He nodded. “That is splendid news. And the physician has been to see you?”

“He has,” Ewan chimed in.

Aaron cleared his throat. “Well… uh… speaking of physicians. I have something that I would like to tell you, Henrietta.”

She frowned. “Oh?”

“An acquaintance of mine happened to be visiting York, and I rode to meet with him this morning. His name is Dr. Arnold Fischer, and he is one of the most noted surgeons in the country. I spoke with him at great length, and I have persuaded him to tutor you in private at his facilities in London, upon the methodologies and practice of medicine. Although, you are not to speak of it to anyone. Once your studying with him has come to an end, he will personally vouch for a place at one of the educational establishments, in the hopes it will increase your chance of being accepted.”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “This is a trick? I died on the bridge, and this is heaven—it must be!”

“It is no trick, my dear girl. I realized that I have not been as kind to you as I ought to have been, nor I have shown any form of support towards your hopes.” He coughed awkwardly. “However, Lord Peterborough and I have spoken about these hopes of yours, and he persuaded me that they were not as outlandish as they may have seemed. Indeed, the only reason I rode out this morning is because of the discussion we had last night, whilst you were sleeping.”

She looked to Ewan, her eyes wide with admiration. “I do not know how to thank you—either of you.”

“Make something of it,” Ewan said. “Be remarkable, as you already are.”

Aaron nodded. “Yes… do not let it go to waste.”

“I will not,” she promised. “I will make you all so proud.”

“Which is infinitely better than bringing shame upon your house,” Ewan teased with a mischievous wink. “It will be your name that achieves this, not a borrowed one. I am certain of it.”

“I hope so. I really hope so.”

Ewan pressed his hand to his heart, showing her his love without saying it aloud for her parents to hear. She smiled back, pressing her own palm to her heart, returning the love in kind.

How could such good fortune have befallen me? Are you sure this is not heaven? It felt too good to be true, and yet, it was all very real. All the pieces were slotting into place, paving the way towards a happiness she had never expected.

Somehow, despite hardships and unexpected circumstances, she had ended up with a husband she loved dearly, and a means to pursue her dreams of becoming a physician. She would study under the private tutelage of one of the country’s finest surgeons, and she would become one herself, in the years to come. With Ewan at her side, and love in her heart, there was nothing she could not do.