Epilogue Chapter 2
Serena Rutherford’s Sitting Room
Wrayburn
Essex
Serena dipped her pen into the inkwell, thought for a moment, and then began writing with swift and sure strokes on the foolscap paper on the desk in front of her.
Sylvia walked out of the cottage and gazed around herself once more in amazement. She had lived her life surrounded by the hills and forests of her native land, and here, on the great plain, with the land stretching out before her wherever she looked, she felt an exalted awe.
How large it was! How far it spread in every direction! According to her dear Adam, it would take a full day for them to ride to the nearest town. At least no one would be able to creep up on them unknown…
The door opened, breaking into her thoughts, and she turned toward the door just as Beatrice, her son’s nursemaid, entered the room with tiny Nicholas Rutherford in her arms.
The two-month-old infant was sucking determinedly on his tiny fist, but at the sight of his mother, he promptly opened his mouth in an outraged scream.
Serena hastily put her pen down and rose to take her place on a convenient rocking chair set next to the open window, which placed her in front of a most welcome summer breeze.
Beatrice carefully deposited the howling babe into his mother’s arms, and within ten seconds, the child was nursing happily. Serena smiled gratefully at Beatrice, who retreated and shut the door behind her, and began rocking gently as her darling Nicholas suckled.
Her heart was too full of happiness for words.
When she had first entered Society, she had despaired of ever attaining the domestic bliss she now savored.
She had enjoyed neither of her Seasons, though she had been more at ease with the second one.
Elizabeth had been a stalwart supporter, understanding perfectly Serena's anxieties over her many suitors.
For a wealthy, well-connected young woman who wished to marry for love and affection rather than to enhance her social status, choosing a husband could be a dangerous business.
Serena had reflected many times, glumly but privately, that Elizabeth had at least been witty and clever and pretty.
Serena was tall and awkward in company, lacking in fashionable accomplishments, and had eccentric tendencies.
She had feared she would never find a suitable husband.
It would be unfair, though, to think that she had hated her Seasons.
While she had struggled with anxiety and uncertainty, there had been many pleasant interludes.
Darcy and Elizabeth had been of the greatest comfort to her, and Jane as well.
She adored visits to the opera and theater with her Fitzwilliam relations and enjoyed singing with Georgiana and Rebekah Rutherford, who proved an excellent performer on the harp.
During her second Season, with Elizabeth safely married, Serena had been one of a small number of heiresses to be charmed, and many a hopeful young gentleman who wished to marry a wealthy wife had exerted themselves to win her hand.
Unfortunately, Serena had not been attracted to any of them.
A few she had liked well enough as friends, but not one of them had inspired her with a desire to spend the rest of her life as his wife.
She knew that Darcy had fielded three offers on her behalf, well aware that they would all be distasteful to her, and she had been grateful.
Better to be a spinster, supported by the substantial interest of her dowry, than in an unhappy marriage.
Leaving London that second year, she had contemplated just such a fate and found it attractive enough. She could not be dejected at the prospect of living out her life at her beloved Pemberley, serving as aunt to her brother and sister’s children.
But then, only a few months after that second Season, young Mr. Zachary Rutherford came for a visit at Darcy's invitation.
The heir to Wrayburn had had much to learn, and he humbly sought to learn it.
During his occasional visits to Darcy House, he had asked eager, searching questions of Darcy, an experienced landlord and estate manager.
As a result, Darcy had invited his young cousin by marriage to stay at Pemberley for a lengthy stay to observe firsthand how Darcy handled his estate.
Elizabeth had been the hostess, naturally, and Serena had not had to worry about those duties, but Zachary had become by that time a genuine friend, and she had entered with enthusiasm into all plans for his entertainment.
Looking back on that time still made Serena smile; Zachary had come to Pemberley to diversify his knowledge of estate management and, in addition to gaining knowledge, had gained himself a wealthy wife.
He had not fallen in love with Serena for her dowry or her connections, but with her intelligence, her character, and her clever imagination.
He had also been fascinated with her writing.
Serena’s first book, Wisp in the Willows, had been a moderate success in Town, and at Pemberley, Serena made a point of writing several hours a day.
Zachary had not disapproved; indeed, he obviously greatly admired her skill as an author.
He had been eager to discuss ideas with her, and they had spent many hours in happy conversation.
By the time his visit was drawing to a close, Serena had formed a lasting affection.
To her relief, her beloved returned her affections and asked for her hand in marriage.
She had only one objection raised, half laughing and half crying and entirely overjoyed; she was a full inch taller than Zachary.
He had dismissed this absurdity with prejudice and claimed her hand and her lips.
They had been married a few months later, and Serena, deliriously happy, had traveled with her husband to her new home of Wrayburn.
Here she had lived ever since, perfectly content with her husband and her son and her writing.
The door opened, and she looked up as her husband, dressed in the rough attire he wore when working outside, entered the room.
“Good morning, my darling,” he said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
“Good morning, Zachary,” she replied with a smile.
Her husband took a moment to run his large hand over his son’s blond head and then retreated to a nearby chair to sit down. He glanced at the desk and said, “How did your writing go today, my dear?”
She smiled at him gratefully. She was thankful that Zachary took her writing seriously and was incredibly supportive.
She had now published three books and was nearing the end of a fourth, and her novels were to be found in libraries across Britain, though her authorship was still a closely guarded secret.
“It went well. I have Sylvia and Adam hiding in a cottage in the middle of a great plain, which means that anyone coming after them will have to cross the open space so they can be seen, but on the other hand, how are my hero and heroine going to escape when the villains do find them? I have not quite figured that out yet.”
“A hot-air balloon, perhaps?” Zachary asked.
Serena blinked and wrinkled her brow in thought. It was an absurd idea, but absurdity was exactly what she needed, as this particular book had its share of the ridiculous.
“I would need to know more about hot air balloons, though it will take time to find such a book,” she mused. “I could include a scene about escaping on a hot air balloon and move on in the story and then come back to refine the scene when I am ready.”
“I could send to London for a book on the subject, perhaps?” he suggested.
She considered for another moment, and then said, “Would you? That would be most useful.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Zachary said with a grin. “I received a letter from my father this morning and need to write back, and when I do, I will include a request that he or one of my brothers go to Hatchards and search for a book on aeronautics.”
“How are your father and mother and siblings?” Serena asked, expertly lifting her son onto her shoulder and patting him.
“They seem very well. Priscilla is with child again.”
“Oh!” Serena exclaimed. “How wonderful!”
Zachary’s only sister had married a wealthy gentleman from Shropshire. She and her husband had a two-year-old daughter and were doubtless hoping the current unborn babe was a son, especially since the family estate was entailed away from the female line.
“And your brothers?” she asked.
“They are doing reasonably well. Hubert racked up some debt in a card game, and my father found out about it. He said that if it happens again, Hubert will be sent back here, removing him from temptation.”
Serena sighed and nodded. Gaming was a habitual pastime for young men, but it was a dangerous one. A great many fortunes had been lost on the gaming tables.
“I mean to talk to my father again about the Army for Hubert,” Zachary continued. “I know father would prefer that Hubert enter the diplomatic corps, but he does not have the right temperament.”
“I agree,” Serena said. “Your brother has a great deal of energy, and even with the end of the war against the French, there must be somewhere that Hubert will thrive, especially if we purchase a cornetcy for him.”
Her husband considered this and then said, “Yes. It will be expensive, and we could obviously pay for a cheaper commission in a foot regiment.”
“But Hubert wants to be a member of the cavalry. It is quite all right, darling. You know that I want my fortune to go for the benefit of Rutherfords present and future.”
He rose to his feet and walked over to kiss her again, this time on the lips. “You are so generous, my dear wife.”
Nicholas, who had been slumbering on his mother’s shoulder, opened tiny eyes, considered his father doubtfully, and then went back to sleep.
***
Park
Cheapside
“Phoebe,” Jane Fitzwilliam called, “please make certain that Simon does not fall into the pond!”