Letters to a Wallflower

Epilogue

Some of the flowers on her grandmother’s grave had wilted and died away. Helen tidied up the gravesite, bundling the spent flowers into a basket, which she handed to her husband.

“Yours will last a great deal longer,” he said with pride as she settled a vase into a permanent place at the side of the stone. She filled it with roses fashioned of her tatted lace, dyed pink. Grandmama’s favorite.

“I hope they will last until we come this way again,” she said, standing with a sigh.

“We will be sure to come back to pay our respects, but she knew you will carry her in your heart.”

“She did know,” Helen agreed. “How proud she was to live on a full six months past the doctor’s prediction. And how proud I was, that she kept her spirit and her humor until the end.”

“And she kept her smile, largely due to you.” Ben raised her hand and kissed it. “Now, it is time for your reward. Have you packed all that you need?”

“Between Maggie and Carruthers, there’s no chance anything will be left behind.”

“Good. It’s a whirlwind you’ve planned. Are you ready for it?”

“Oh, yes. I want to see it all. From the Cornish coast to the Cotswolds. Through the Lake District and the Highlands. Everywhere. I want to see everything.”

“And so we shall. The carriage awaits. Let’s go.”

An hour later they were heading north. Helen looked again to be sure the second carriage was keeping pace. She glanced through the notebook that contained her itinerary and notes on all that she hoped to see. “We need to make good time if we wish to spend a decent amount of time in Scotland before the snows start,” she fretted.

“Mmmm hmmm.”

Recognizing the meaningful timbre of that tone, she looked up to find Ben eyeing her with a hot, interested gaze.

“What is it?” she asked with a smile.

“I’m just recalling that our first kiss took place in a carriage.”

Her eyes widened. “So it did.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m just thinking, there is a certain suggestive rhythm to the rocking of the coach. Why not start our journey with a bit of?—”

“Fun?”

He laughed. “It sounds like fun to me.”

She laughed, too, and in a moment she was in his lap. Their kisses were slow, unhurried and punctuated with more laughter. “I see you, intrepid girl,” he whispered as she shifted her skirts to straddle him.

“I see you’ve been thinking about this ahead of time,” she whispered as he gripped her hips and pulled her close.

“Only every time you started plotting and planning another leg of the trip.” He pressed his mouth to hers. She wrapped her hands around his neck and felt the pounding of his heart. It was true, she found. The movement of the carriage did lend itself to such heated, pleasurable pastimes and they took full advantage of it as the miles passed and the coach filled with sighs.

Afterward, they slumped together on the bench.

“That was fun,” she admitted.

“Indeed. I think it’s time we both had a bit of fun. Don’t you?” He waved a hand. “I declare this journey shall be nothing but fun. We will stop where and when we wish, dine when we want, gawk at each pretty scene that captures our interest, and listen with our hearts as we search for the perfect place to call home.”

“That sounds lovely, she said on a sigh. She kissed him again. “And I know we are meant to look for a place to settle, but honestly, I am in no hurry.” She traced her fingers through his hair. “I had no idea, when I was a girl. I longed to be at the center of your regard—and now I am happy there. No matter where we might be, I am at home with you.”

“And there you will always be,” he said, and kissed her softly, once more.