Epilogue
Three years later
S tonemare was in an uproar. The August rains saturated the moors. The wedding breakfast for Fletcher Grahame and Maura, er, Mrs. Fletcher Grahame, now, was a noisy and joyous affair. Lucius and Noah had arrived from school and were home for a few weeks before their scheduled return.
Lord Pender—Damien—strode in on their heels, shocking the entire household, not having been seen since escorting Olive Townsend to a quiet lunatic asylum located near Colchester by the name of Tranquil Waters some three years past.
Lucius’s brooding had mellowed, but Verda sensed it beneath the surface. He was quite sensitive, but of course, telling him such would never do.
Noah was a joy. It was clear how much he’d missed Julius, but Julius was his own little terror. Never slowing until he dropped where he stood for Maura, Verda, or Sander to deliver him to his bedchamber.
Thirteen-year-old Noah stood stoically before her, eyes glistening with a suspicious sheen. “He acts as if he hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you, darling. I believe he’s growing independent and that’s a good thing. Someday, he’ll learn what brilliant care you took of him and he’ll love you all the more for it.”
“Are you having a baby?” he asked.
Heat infused her face and she fidgeted with her skirts, deciding on the best course of action in which to reply. Honesty usually served her purposes. She leaned in and took his hand. “Yes, but I’ve yet to tell Sander.”
“Why not?” His brows drew together as he tilted his head and looked her straight in the eye. “I shouldn’t return to school. You may need my assistance. I’m experienced, you know.”
She smiled then tugged him into a hug. “You are indeed experienced.” She pulled back and leveled a stern gaze on him. “But your education is of great importance and I will absolutely insist you return to school. As for your uncle… I only just learned myself.”
The door to the library opened and Sander entered. The cloud of contentment that served as his private umbrella enveloped the room. Verda’s heart overflowed with emotion.
“Oh, hello, Uncle Sander. Congratulations on your upcoming child,” Noah said.
Verda gasped.
Sander stilled. “Pardon?”
“Aunt Verda just told me.” He strode to the door. “I’d best check on my Julius. He may hate me, but I’m still his guardian angel, whether he likes it or not.” The door slammed behind him.
Sander prowled across the chamber like a ferocious tiger. “You’re having my child?”
She donned her most prim and reserved exterior. “It would seem so, Mr. Osh—”
“That’s it!” In a blink, she was on her back and his mouth covered hers. The sentiments overflowing from her spilled through him back to her. His touch, his love, his devotion.
There was no time for more intense ardor because the door flew back and the family poured in. But the mood was dark and frightening.
Verda struggled to sitting and quickly straightened her bright-blue frock. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“My Julius is missing,” Noah choked out.
“Missing?”
“I-I think he went outside,” Docia said.
“But how is that possible—” Verda started.
Lord Pender stood in the arch. “I’ll find him, the little bugger.” He spun away and the vestibule door opened then shut.
A heavy silence weighed the atmosphere.
But Maura appeared holding the little cherub, an angel with a jam-covered face. His head of dark hair lay on her shoulder. “The little miscreant had escaped to the kitchens and was stuffing his face with a jam-filled tart.
Noah marched over to Julius and poked a finger on his little pug nose. “You are a bad, bad boy, scaring the family half out of their wits like that.”
Julius lifted his head with that impish grin on his oh-so adorable face that would likely save his future fate in less-than-favorable ways, his azure eyes lowing in an innocent blink. He raised his arms out for his brother, who snatched him from Maura and hugged him close then refused to let him down for the rest of the night.
No one appeared to notice that Lord Pender hadn’t returned. But Verda had.
Sander sauntered up from behind and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Come, love, let’s go to bed.”
She leaned her head back, on his shoulder, pushing thoughts of her troublesome brother-in-law to the recesses of her mind. It wasn’t like the flighty lord wouldn’t appear out of the blue now and again without word.
She pressed her hands atop Sander’s on her abdomen. This was her— their— hers and her darling husband’s future.
Yes. Life was wonderful .