Epilogue
Though Eleanor and James were both impatient to marry, they did not, in fact, get married straightaway. There were two reasons for this. The first was that watching James win his fight had rekindled Eleanor’s own spirit in the days that followed. She admired his bravery—he had taken back his life, in no uncertain terms.
Eleanor wanted to be worthy of that bravery.
Because when she thought of the Natural History Society, she didn’t feel particularly brave. She’d gone, Lord Lark had yelled at her, she’d cowered. That didn’t seem much like courage to her. Or at least not sustained courage. More like a burst of bravery that had quickly fizzled out in light of opposition.
At first, she’d wondered why she bothered. It would never be easy, and why was she the one who had to take this impossible task upon her shoulders? There were other science-minded women out there. There were sympathetic men.
Why hadn’t they done something before now? Why couldn’t she simply send her paper in and get it published and present her lecture, if that was her desire?
But, after she wallowed for a while, she realized these weren’t worthy thoughts of someone who was supposed to be brave.
Someone had to step forward. Someone had to try.
In the insect world, individual insects were capable of great tasks—dung beetles carrying a hundred times their weight, stag beetles and their showy fights. But there were also insects that did their great feats as part of a community, that thrived as a whole—beehives, ant colonies—stronger together than they were apart.
She realized she might have been approaching the situation the wrong way. She didn’t have to be an army of one.
She didn’t have to do it alone.
So, not long after the prizefight, Eleanor enlisted the help of Lady Sarah and Mr. Smith to start their own Natural History Society. One that allowed women. One that was cofounded by women.
It was, she thought, long past due.
The second reason for the delay was a little more sentimental. Eleanor wanted all of her siblings at her wedding, so they waited.
Then, in the spring, they met Theo and Annabel at an inn halfway between Edinburgh and Llynmore Castle. Theo, who’d been updated about James MacGregor in letters, still looked a bit surprised at Eleanor’s choice when he finally met him, but he was civil, and James was civil in return, and even Robert, who’d been put through more than any brother deserved, seemed happy that she was happy.
All in all, it was probably the best anyone could ask for.
The wedding was a small, informal affair in the main room of the inn, which was empty except for them and the clergyman. It was much easier to get married in Scotland than England—there were no specific times or places one had to marry, no waiting period, even without a special license.
Georgina managed to find some small, early blossoms—something white—and stick them in her hair, and Eleanor and James were married standing in front of the hearth of an unfamiliar room, with the world outside the windows thawing from a Scotland winter and green buds on trees just beginning to bloom.
“Will you come back to Llynmore Castle with us?” Annabel asked, after.
Eleanor shook her head. There were too many things for them to do in Edinburgh. Her society was in its early stages, so it was fragile, and James’s saloon was in high demand after his victory. They’d been away for about as long as Eleanor felt comfortable with.
“Soon, I hope,” she said, “But not yet.”
“Am I invited to any of these society meetings?” Theo asked, surprising everyone.
Eleanor smiled. “Of course you are,” she said. Then she added, “I’d like that.”
Theo took her hand, which was about as much affection as he ever displayed, and all too soon, they were preparing to leave.
Georgina came to her privately. “I think I’ll accompany Theo and Annabel,” she said. “As you’re newly married, you probably don’t want your sister hanging about and pestering you. And I do miss the Highlands.”
It was no less than Eleanor had been expecting. Robert would be leaving Edinburgh, too. Still, she was close to her sister, and she’d never been without her before. She wrapped her in a fierce hug and breathed in the familiar scent of her soap, a pang of longing already shooting through her chest.
“Don’t get into too much trouble without me,” Eleanor said.
Georgina smirked. “After the past few months, I should be the one telling you that.”
Eleanor laughed.
“You’ll be happy. I know you shall. And we shall see each other again before we even have time to miss one another.” Georgina squeezed Eleanor’s hands and then drew back.
When her family was gone, and the inn was quiet, she turned to James, who was watching her intently. She noticed his plate, which had been piled full a few minutes before, was empty. This time, when a pang shot through her, it was a pang of desperate fondness.
Eleanor felt her life shifting, changing around her. But not all changes were for the worse.
“Are you all right? We don’t have to live in Edinburgh, if you don’t wish it.”
But they did, because James’s saloon was there, and her society was there, and their lives, together, were there.
And, despite the tinge of sadness at being apart from her family, she couldn’t begin to describe how much she was looking forward to starting them.
She hadn’t realized, before she’d met James, the amount of love the human heart could hold. She hadn’t known it was infinite.
She was sitting with a man who’d seen her masquerade as Cecil Townsend, who knew her deepest wishes and greatest fears, and understood them and loved her for them, just as she knew his deepest wishes and greatest fears, and loved him.
Happiness was too tepid a word for what she felt. She was more than happy. She was known. It was more than she’d ever allowed herself to hope for.
She was known, and her heart ached with the wild promise of hope and joy.
“I want to live in Edinburgh. It’s our home,” she said firmly.
“‘Our.’” James grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
He took Eleanor’s hand in his. Tangled their fingers together. James loved touching her, as much as he could, as often as he could. He had never realized how addicting something so simple could be, or how much he would come to crave it.
He thought now of his life before Eleanor and wondered at how empty it had been.
“And I suspect you wish to get back and show those old fools at the other society just what they missed,” he added.
“Let’s not be vengeful. My society’s sole aim is to further scientific knowledge.”
“You’re right—but a little vengeance is like the icing on the cake.”
“I suppose I would not be entirely opposed if my new society made them a bit uncomfortable.”
“Now that is more like it,” he said.
Her mouth twitched, and his heart responded by nearly thumping out of his chest. It was possibly his biggest accomplishment—that he could provoke those smiles, quick and all-too-soon hidden, from Eleanor Townsend.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, on a wave of warm feelings. “You’ll be moving into my town house when we return.”
Eleanor cocked a brow. “Obviously. And?”
“It could use some updating.” James no longer craved extravagant things. All he truly craved, all he truly needed, was Eleanor. But he still held a bit of a fondness for them. Old habits and all that.
Eleanor looked worried.
“I’m thinking…silk damask. Red silk damask.” He spread his arms widely, envisioning the glory of it. “Everywhere.”
His wife patted his hand gently, but when she spoke, her tone brooked no argument. “Absolutely not.”
Ah, well. He sat back in his chair, still holding Eleanor’s hand. He’d give it some time. Maybe he could get her to agree to one room of silk damask, now that she was imagining an entire house of the stuff.
James was learning how to pick his battles.
Did you love this Scandalous? Check out more of our historical romance titles !
Don’t miss more books by Lily Maxton! Sign up for our newsletter !