Epilogue
Eyes glued to the book she held up in her hand, Rosalind felt for her cup of tea on the side table and brought it to her lips. She had reached a thrilling part in the story. Only when the weight in her lap shifted did she tear her eyes away.
She peered down and found Jonathan staring up at her, a smile on his face. “What?”
“You’ve gotten to the confrontation scene, haven’t you? In the throne room?” he asked. “I can see it on your face.”
She raised a brow. “Aren’t you meant to be reading Laithan’s Treatise on the Law of Taxation in the Naetali Lands?”
He sighed. “I am, but it’s painfully dull. I keep having to read sentences over again because I lose focus halfway through. The man writes like he’s being paid by the word. I’d much rather look at you.”
Rosalind chewed her lip. She should probably let him get back to reading since he aimed to finish it by the end of the week and looked to be only a few chapters in, but her excitement got the best of her. “They have arrived at the throne room, and Okoro has just drawn his sword. Eva’s acting surprised as if she hadn’t expected them to come, but I think she knew they would. She did know, didn’t she?”
Jonathan shrugged. “You’ll just have to read on to find out.”
She rolled her eyes, but before she could answer, a knock sounded on the door .
“Come in,” Jonathan called out. He lifted his head from Rosalind’s lap and righted himself on the settee.
Valentina swept into the study, followed closely behind by Charlene. She skipped pleasantries and instead ushered the housekeeper forward, saying, “Go on, tell them what you heard.”
Charlene shifted uncomfortably, looking from Jonathan to Rosalind, then back at Valentina, before returning her attention to Jonathan. “My friend Archie—she’s training to be a housekeeper at the Hanover Estate, you know, the one with the fountain featuring a buxom mermaid—well, she was telling me that she heard from another housekeeper who works for Lady Condry’s sister that their footman saw you and Miss Rosalind being”—Charlene lowered her voice—“intimate with one another. He insists he saw you two holding hands near the pond a few days back.”
“The pond that sits within our property?” Jonathan asked pointedly. “How would he have seen us there? Unless—”
“I asked the very same, I did,” Charlene exclaimed. “The footman claims he was out searching for truffles and didn’t realize he’d ventured onto the estate.”
“Right,” Jonathan said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Well, I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Charlene. I can always count on you to have an ear on the ground. Thank you. I’ll take care of things from here.”
The housemaid beamed. “Yes, my lord.” She offered a bow to everyone in the room and left.
Rosalind recalled their most recent turn about the pond. It had been a lovely morning, with the sun peeking through the clouds and a sheer blanket of mist that felt ethereal in the quiet calm. After sharing their daily cup of coffee in the kitchen, Jonathan asked if she wanted to accompany him on a stroll. He said he knew he’d be stuck inside for the remainder of the day and wanted an opportunity to stretch his legs before then. They held hands as they walked beside the pickerel weeds and cardinal flowers in companionable silence.
In the four months since the ball, they’d managed to enjoy each other’s company, with society being none the wiser. It was easy enough to do as Rosalind had little reason to accompany Jonathan in public. If she did, which was a rarity, Valentina was right there beside her. As far as most in Proper were concerned, Rosalind was little more than Valentina’s peculiar companion.
And then there was Brighthall—their safe haven. Every member of the household was aware of their courtship and maintained the utmost discretion, even Charlene. That meant the pair were essentially free to do as they pleased within the grounds. Or so they thought.
“So, what’s the plan here?” Valentina asked, a hand on her hip.
“That depends on how Ros feels about it.” Jonathan looked to her for an answer.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, hands wringing as she tried to make sense of how she was feeling. “I suppose I feel a little exposed. I feel like something was taken from us without our permission. Still, I don’t think I’m as perturbed as I ought to be. I think…” She paused. “I think a small part of me feels relieved.”
Jonathan didn’t answer right away. He was studying her, and it was evident by the slightly unfocused look in his eyes that he was contemplating something. When he made his mind up about whatever it was he was thinking through, he looked to Valentina.
“Would you mind giving us a moment?”
Valentina pursed her lips, leveling a scrutinizing gaze on Jonathan. She was every bit as inscrutable as her brother amid her silent deliberation. Such instances revealed how alike the siblings were despite their insistence to the contrary.
“Oh,” Valentina murmured. “ Oh . ”
Rosalind waited for her to say more, to protest her dismissal, but to her surprise, Valentina did no such thing. Instead, Valentina rushed over to where Rosalind stood and began to fuss with her hair and dress. “Val, what are you—” she began, but before she could finish, Valentina reached out and pinched her cheeks.
“Ow!” Rosalind exclaimed, quickly batting her friend’s hands away. She frowned as she rubbed at the tender skin.
“You’ll thank me later,” Valentina said before throwing Jonathan one last look and hurrying out of the room.
Jonathan shook his head as he watched Valentina close the door behind her. When they were alone, he beckoned for Rosalind to follow him. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Jonathan opened a drawer at his desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment paper. “The sooner we get ahead of this, the better. As such, I prepared a statement in advance for the press should such a scenario arise. Before I submit it, I would like your approval.”
“Y-yes, of course.”
Rosalind was a bit taken aback. She had thought they might discuss things first—consider their options together. Obviously, something had to be done; the word would get out soon enough. But did they need to act this very instant?
She approached Jonathan and peered down at the paper in front of them. Printed at the top was the seal of the Chancellor of Denault. Below it was a brief handwritten statement. A few sentences at most, written in the most impressive handwriting. Smooth, distinct lines with not a hint of indecision in any stroke.
Of late, rumors have been circulating concerning an alleged personal liaison between Chancellor Rashford and Miss Rosalind Carver of Brighthall Manor. While he typically refrains from addressing such allegations, he does so now in the name of respect and amity. Chancellor Rashford would like to reiterate that he and Miss Carver are longtime acquaintances and remain only as such. His focus at this time lies solely with the responsibilities of his office and to the people of Denault.
Rosalind felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was a perfectly sound statement, and she could find no fault with it. The wording was respectful yet straightforward, and there would be no doubting its meaning. She was certain it would prove successful in dispelling the rumors, for a little while longer at least. That being said, she didn’t care for it. It felt wrong . She knew it wasn’t true, but seeing it written out like that still stung. What if committing this to ink would somehow make it true? She knew it was a foolish thing to think, but that didn’t stop her from thinking it.
“It’s… well, it’s…” She trailed off, unable to get the words out.
“I did draft an alternate version in case this one didn’t quite hit the mark. Care to read that one as well?”
Not particularly, she wanted to say. If it were anything like the first one, she wouldn’t like it any better.
“Yes, alright,” she mumbled.
Again, Jonathan reached into the desk drawer and pulled out another sheet of paper. Like the former, it was hardly more than a few sentences. However, this statement was markedly different in tone.
It is with great pleasure that the Chancellor of Denault announces his engagement to Miss Rosalind Carver of Brighthall Manor. Chancellor Rashford holds her in the highest regard and looks forward to their future together. He also kindly requests that the public extend the same respect and goodwill bestowed upon him to the future Lady Rashford. As always, the Chancellor remains steadfastly committed to the responsibilities of his office and is honored to continue to do so with such a remarkable partner as Miss Carver by his side. Details to be announced in due course.
Rosalind read it over again and again, her heart beating as fast as a herd of horses galloping through open pastures. Surely Jonathan heard it, possibly even felt it, as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“For this version to go to print, there’s something I need to ask you,” he said as he set a velvet blue box in front of her.
Hands shaking slightly, Rosalind picked up the box and opened it. Inside sat two gold bands. They looked unassuming at first glance, but a closer look revealed delicate engravings inside each band. These were no ordinary rings.
“Rosalind Carver,” he said softly against her ear, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
The words set her soul alight with incandescent joy. She hadn’t known one could be so happy. And while she couldn’t claim to be fearless, she wasn’t nearly as terrified of what would come next as she once was. The future held too much promise for that.
Though she could hardly feel her legs, Rosalind managed to turn herself around to face Jonathan. She reached up to take his face in her hands and smiled. When he smiled back, she couldn’t help but press her thumb to that lovely little dimple of his.
“Yes, Jonathan, I will. Forevermore, I am yours. I love you.”
Rosalind lifted herself onto her toes and kissed him.
“I love you, Ros, and I look forward to spending the rest of our lives showing you just how much.”
Just then, the door to the study swung open, and Valentina tumbled inside. She showed no hint of regret for having blatantly eavesdropped on the proposal as she cheered, “Congratulations!”
Evidently, she had also wasted no time informing others as the rest of the household trickled in shortly after her, glasses and bottles of champagne in hand to toast the joyous occasion.
Rosalind glanced up at Jonathan, and the pair shared a quiet laugh. It looked as though Laithan’s Treatise and the much-anticipated throne room confrontation would have to wait.