Epilogue
Blackthorn Hall
Five days later…
“Our family is owed an inheritance. That was the arrangement,” Richard’s mother said.
Richard’s mother had been ecstatic when he and Amelia told her the news of their wedding, and she had decided to throw a grand ball in honor of their union, but Richard had informed her there wouldn’t be a ball, that her account would be frozen, and she would be given a monthly allowance to live on. It had taken her a moment to comprehend Richard’s words, but once she did, she was irate, to say the least.
“This is ridiculous. The only reason my son married you was for your money.”
“Enough,” Richard ordered, his tone echoing throughout the parlor, making his mother go silent in shock. “You will not say such things to my wife. Do you understand?”
“How dare you? I am your mother—"
“Where were you when Max was asking for you as a child? Where were you when Father asked you to come to your son’s funeral? Where were you when he was ill and wrote to you to reconcile?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but quickly shut it.
“You will have a comfortable life and an allowance, but if you are not satisfied with the living that I have provided for you because you are still my mother after all the suffering you have caused, you may go back to your lover.”
Her jaw twitched, and her eyes narrowed at her son and Amelia. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” This was all she said, and she retired to her room.
Philip had wed Millie Penn privately with a special license he had procured for them that morning. They had decided to retire to Philip’s London townhouse for some privacy for a few days as their honeymoon, while Amelia had offered to look after their baby. They had named him Henry.
Despite the news that Sir Kendall would be on trial for several counts of attempted murder and was being held in prison, Philip seemed to be in good spirits. Millie and several witnesses had all come forward and made their statements to the Justice in London.
Amelia wasn’t a fool. She understood what it felt like to lose a parent, and it was always painful, despite their shortcomings. A few times, she saw Philip staring into space, thinking. His expression had been melancholy, but there was nothing she could say to him that would help ease his heart. It would come with time, she surmised, as it had for her.
Francis ran into the room, followed by Kate, who was carrying the baby, and the other five girls, quickly filling up the room. A few seconds later, the three-legged dog ran into the room, wagging its tail and barking. Francis quickly scooped the dog up in her arms and ran to Amelia.
“What is it, darling?”
“They are taking over my life.”
“Taking over your life?”
“They said I can’t name my puppy Balls.”
“That is a silly name,” Beatrice, the oldest sibling, said. “You can’t name it Balls.”
“It looks like a fur ball to me, so I can.”
The butler knocked and entered. “There is someone here for you, Miss Knight. I mean, my lady.”
“Oh?” Amelia asked. “Who is it?”
“Mr. Hendrickson,” he said.
“Do you want me to see to this person?” her husband asked, coming to her side.
“I can see to it, thank you,” she said, kissing him with a wide smile.
“I will go with you,” Richard said.
When the visitor was invited into Richard’s study, he sat down in front of Richard, and the new countess next to him. Mr. Hendrickson had come with the news that her grandmother had passed away on her way back to Scotland during the night at one of the inns.
Her grandmother had departed London the morning after the wedding. She had looked pale, and her doctor had informed her it would be best to rest for a few more days before heading home. She had refused, stating that if she was going to die, she’d rather do it in her own bed.
Mr. Hendrickson apologized for not getting there sooner, but he’d had to finish up some business matters in London.
“Your grandmother, Elise Knight has left you everything,” Mr. Hendrickson said.
It took a moment for Amelia to fully grasp what he was saying. “There must be a mistake. My grandmother indicated to me that I would inherit only if I produced an offspring,” Amelia said.
“I went over the entire document signed by your grandmother before traveling here.”
A whirl of emotions rumbled inside her. She was overjoyed with the news of her inheritance, but the knowledge that her grandmother had died hit her hard. Despite the torture the woman had put her through, she was the only living member of her family. She had wished, oh, so wished they could bond in a way that they never had.
“What is the matter?” Richard asked, watching her expression.
“I just need a moment.” This meant she could rebuild Somersby Hall. To build the place, a school for the girls they’d taken under their wing.
Soon after, Blackthorn escorted the secretary out. When he opened the door, a woman was standing there, her hand poised by the knocker.
“May I help you?” Blackthorn asked.
“I was told Amelia Knight was here.”
Blackthorn observed the woman with curiosity. “Who might you be?”
“I am sorry,” the stranger said, as if embarrassed by her lack of social courtesy. “My name is Mrs. Ryan.”
“My darling, who is here?” Amelia said, smiling. He widened the door and Amelia stopped dead in her tracks, shock apparent on her face, her expression tight and hard.
“Hello, Amelia,” the woman said, studying Amelia’s face.
Say something, her mind ordered. Sprinkles of gray spotted the woman’s dark brown hair. And there were winkles, a lot more of them than Amelia recalled.
“How are you familiar with my wife?” Richard said.
“She is my mother,” Amelia finally answered for her mother, the woman who had abandoned her. How dare she show up after all these years? Amelia watched her expression. There was sadness in her eyes. Perhaps life had been continuously difficult for her.
“I’m sorry. Maybe coming here was a bad idea,” Mrs. Ryan reluctantly said.
“Would you like to come in?” Richard said, intervening.
Mrs. Ryan looked at Amelia curiously, then at her husband. When Amelia didn’t protest, the woman entered, and Richard closed the door behind them.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Ryan said.
All three walked in silence to the parlor, and Richard invited her to sit. Amelia was tormented by the unsaid words. How could her mother show up after all these years? Did she want money? Why was she here?
“It’s a lovely house,” the woman said, sitting down.
“Why are you here?” Amelia asked, her tone curt and irritated. “I’ve done just fine without you for a decade. I hope you aren’t thinking to ask me for money.” Amelia wondered what had happened to her mother to have given her so much grief.
“Is that why you think I am here?”
“Isn’t it?” she said. “You haven’t written. Not a single word and you show up now?”
Mrs. Ryan frowned, her brows drawing together in confusion. “You didn’t receive the letters?”
“What letters?” Was it possible that she had a heart in there somewhere? That she did care about her only child?
Her mother’s eyes brimmed with angry tears. “I should have known she would not allow you to have them.”
“What letters?”
“I send you a letter on your birthday each year. They weren’t returned so I assumed you received them.”
Amelia let out a heavy sigh, tears falling. There was a feeling of relief, her resentment slowly fading away. All these years of wondering why her mother had abandoned her. Why she never came to visit. But in fact, her mother cared.
“Why don’t I give you two some privacy,” Richard said, kissing Amelia on the temple, his eyes filled with love. “Come get me when you are ready.”
“No, wait,” she said, grabbing his hand to hold him. “I want you here, darling.” She looked at her mother. “Why did you not come to visit me?”
“When your grandmother agreed to take care of you, she informed me that if I made any attempt to visit you, she would make sure you were sent straightaway to the workhouse.”
A sense of strength came to Amelia, and her anger slowly started to fade away. But there were questions she needed answers to. “How could you give up your own child?”
Her mother wiped the tears on her cheek. “It’s a choice that is impossible for any mother to live with. I can’t justify giving you up. The only thing I can say is that I thought she could give you what I could not. A roof over your head. Hot meals. A warm blanket. A future I could not give you.”
Amelia’s lips quivered with happiness.
Her mother smiled. “Millie wrote to me about you and Lord Blackthorn. I came to congratulate you.” She paused. “And . . . to see your face again after all these years.”
Amelia went to her mother and looked into her eyes. There was a lingering sorrow in them, so compelling and heartfelt. They embraced for a long while.
When they parted, her mother wiped her tears and looked at Richard. “My congratulations to you, my lord.”
“Richard,” he said. “After all, I am your son-in-law.”
Amelia touched the stone on her silver necklace. “I never took this off.”
Her mother’s eyes sparkled with tears. “I saw you wearing it.” She smiled, touching the stone and caressing it between her fingers. “Your father gave this to me on our wedding day.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she said, “He was a good man and he loved you so very much. Despite your grandmother blaming me for ruining his future and disowning him, he gave us so much love. You have his compassion, his heart. When he passed, your grandmother became angry with me, with the world. She blamed me for ruining her family.”
Amelia’s heart swelled with joy. “I know. She reminded me often. There were times I wanted nothing to do with this necklace, but it was the only thing I had that Grandmamma allowed me to keep.”
“How is she? I hope she treated you well.”
Ten years of abuse flashed through her mind, but it had all been worth it because she had the man she loved, the children, and her mum now. “She passed recently.”
Her mother wiped her tears of joy. “You have a brother,” Mrs. Ryan said, her eyes still filled with endless tears. “His name is James. He is five. I wanted to have more, but my husband insists that one is enough for us, considering my health.”
“You're ill?”
“After I had James, it took quite a while for me to recover my strength. Nearly a year.”
Amelia had lived with the belief that she was not worthy, having been given away and living under constant threat. She had honestly believed that she could not trust anyone, and that she didn’t deserve happiness. But Richard had opened her heart. Amelia understood the need for acceptance, despite our flaws, and to learn to trust those we love, to forgive others for ourselves. She had learned this at a price, but it was worth every pain, every minute. And now, she was reunited with her mother, she thought with delight. Her family, and the girls, were all complete.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Amelia asked.
Her mother’s eyes gleamed with tears and she nodded. “Very much.”
“I’d like to meet James. And your husband.”
“He is a good man, like your father. You remind me of him.”
There was a quick knock and Richard gave his permission to enter. The door swung open. "My Lord, there is a U.S. Marshal here to see you."
"U.S. Marshal?" he said.
Amelia and Richard looked as each other, perplexed. What would a United States Marshal be doing here? This day was proving to bring one surprise after another.
“What would you like me to tell him, my lord?”
Amelia and Richard walked past the butler and to the front door and opened it. A tall man stood there wearing a trench coat that reached midway to his dirty boots. He wore a brimmed hat reminiscent of a cowboy in the Wild West.
"Pardon me, madam, but I am looking for Mrs. Kate McBride."
"And who might you be?"
"Jonathan Hawk, U.S. Marshal. I am told Mrs. McBride resides here."
"She does," Amelia said. "But I must ask, what is the urgency of this matter? We have guests."
The man seemed reluctant to say, so when she insisted he answer her question, he said to her, “Is she here or not?”
“No need to be rude, Mr. Hawk.”
Just then Kate walked in to join them. Everyone turned to look at her, and the blood drained from Kate’s face, leaving her pale.
"You," Kate said. "What are you doing here?"
"To make sure you to stand trial for murder."