12. Epilogue
One year later, Engleston Park study, Kent
Oblivious to the chaos happening in the Engleston Park kitchens, David lounged on the sofa in his study, one foot on the floor covered by the sleeping sheepdog and his attention on a sheaf of papers he had received from his solicitor the day before. A quick trip to London had afforded him and Marian the opportunity to pay a call at Penhurst Place to meet her uncle’s wife of nearly a year and to introduce their son to his great uncle and to his grandmother.
Although he pretended interest in the babe, Richard had his own new addition to show off—a two-month-old baby girl. While the women exchanged talk of caring for their children and households, Richard and David retired to the earl’s study. In an effort to clear the air regarding their uncomfortable parting from the Soho Club the year before, Richard poured brandies for them both and admitted he had already decided to remarry when he had arranged for them to meet at the Soho Club.
He knew there would be trouble in his household if he didn’t find a suitable husband for Marian.
“It wouldn’t have been fair to my niece to have to give up her station as my hostess, but I knew Constance would insist on running the place,” Richard said, referring to his new countess. “I knew you needed a wife, and so I mentioned to Marian that I had found her a suitable husband. Thought the Soho Club would be a perfect location in which to begin a courtship,” he went on. “And apparently, it was.”
David furrowed his brows. “Oh, it was,” he agreed. “And I have to admit that if you had let me in on your plans, I don’t know that I would have accepted your invitation,” he added.
“I knew you wouldn’t have, which is why I didn’t tell you.” Richard angled his head to one side. “I do hope you’re not still sore at me.”
“Oh, I’m not,” the baron assured him. “I could not have chosen a better woman to be my wife if I had attended a Season of entertainments in London,” he added. “But it pains me when I think of her shock when she thought I had conspired with you in order to take her off your hands.”
Grimacing at the reminder, Richard said, “She let me know she forgives me. The mention of a larger dowry may have helped in that regard.”
“Oh, no doubt,” David replied. “Which is part of why we’re in London today. We came here directly from my solicitor’s office. He had the papers ready for both my last will and testament and for the settlement for Marian and the children.”
Impressed at hearing the news, Richard said, “Well, you’re certainly set.” He dipped his head. “I do appreciate you seeing to her future. To her present,” he remarked. “She seems very happy.”
David nodded. “I intend to keep her that way, sir.”
He and Marian had departed Penhurst Place exactly one hour after their arrival. They had stopped at his townhouse to see his mother and then taken her for an ice at Gunter’s Tea Shop.
“I was so happy to have received a slice of your wedding cake whilst I was in Brighton,” Eva told them.
“You did?” David asked in surprise. He gave Marian a quick glance.
“I might have seen to it a slice was boxed up and sent before we left the Soho Club,” Marian said. “Although I don’t know how Mrs. Skarsgard knew where to send it.”
“It was so good, I didn’t mind at all that I missed the nuptials,” his mother went on, lifting the baby into her arms.
Before they had departed the tea shop, the dowager baroness proudly showed off her grandson to every matron she knew in the establishment before announcing she would be spending the next Season in Bath.
Apparently she knew Marian would be more than capable of running the Engleston townhouse in her absence.
Their last stop in London had been at the Soho Club. Mrs. Skarsgard was happy to meet the babe and reminded them they could return to the club whenever they wished.
David was wondering when they might next head to London for a stay at the Soho Club—their wedding breakfast had been exceptional, and the wedding cake rather good—when he looked up to discover his wife standing on the threshold of the study. Her eyes were wide before she let out a sigh of relief.
“What is it, my sweet?” he asked in alarm, lowering the papers to reveal a lump atop his chest. He intended to stand upon seeing her, but his effort to sit up was impeded by an additional weight on his body and the slumbering dog draped over his foot.
“I thought your son had gone missing,” Marian said as she crossed her arms and angled her head.
“Oh, he’s not missing. He’s right here,” David said as he indicated the bundle on his chest. Wrapped in a blanket, the future seventh Baron Engleston was snoring softly.
“What’s he doing there?” she asked as she made her way to stand over the two men in her life.
“Well, he is keeping me warm,” David replied. “He’s like a huge lump of coal but without the soot and smoke. He did fart a couple of times, though.”
Marian tittered. “He is rather warm to hold,” she agreed, her initial concern melting away. “And growing heavier by the day.”
“Since he was merely sleeping in his bassinet, I thought he could do it on me just as well,” David explained, his appreciative gaze taking in his wife’s newest yellow gown.
Upon learning from Mr. Tuttlebaum that his fields were due to yield a bumper crop that year, he’d had a modiste in Kent make it for her. The older woman insisted the color wasn’t yellow but rather “jonquil”.
In honor of the citrus trees in the greenhouses producing more lemons and oranges than expected, David had ordered another gown in a bright yellow-gold muslin the modiste said was “evening primrose”. He really didn’t care to know the color names as long as the gowns pleased Marian and reminded him of how she had brought sunshine into his life at a time when he needed it most.
“Were... were you in need of him?” he asked, one of his hands moving to the babe’s bottom to pull him farther up onto his chest as he sat up on the sofa. Morgan Richard Engleston took exception and let out a cry of complaint.
Her humor still apparent, Marian lowered herself to sit on the edge of the sofa. She placed a kiss on her husband’s forehead. “No, but he’s going to be in need of me at any moment,” she warned.
“Again?” David asked in surprise. “He’s not that large,” he commented, his eyes darting to her swollen breasts.
In bed earlier that morning, as he had nearly every morning since the birth of his heir, he had watched in fascination as the babe suckled her nipples. For the past two months, he had waited patiently every morning for his turn with Marian, determined to pleasure her senseless before their breakfast was delivered. Although he had learned what he could from the books he had found in his library, he was discovering new ways to make love to his wife all on his own. “He must have a bottomless stomach,” he remarked.
Marian glanced down her front. “Actually, it’s been several hours,” she countered. “And he probably needs his nappy changed.” She indicated the sheaf of papers David still held in one hand. “What were you reading?”
David winced when the babe stirred again, his tiny feet digging into his ribs. “The final settlement papers,” he replied. “Your generous dowry will afford you and our children a rather comfortable living after I’m gone.”
The dowry Richard had paid David the day after the wedding had supplemented his income after The Year of No Summer’s horrible crop losses and made it possible for Mr. Tuttlebaum to finally ask for Mrs. Wright’s hand in marriage.
The housekeeper was at that very moment dressing for the ceremony, and Margaret, the cook, was continuing with the breakfast preparations. A wedding cake had come out of the oven the day before, its sugar icing coating the dense fruit cake in a smooth, white shell.
It was Marian’s turn to wince. “Don’t be dying anytime soon, my dearest. You promised me more children. Oh, and we need to be leaving for the church soon.”
“I don’t plan to die,” he replied, leaning down to place a kiss on his son’s head. He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “What time is the wedding?”
“Eleven o’clock. Margaret said she would have the breakfast ready to serve at noon,” Marian replied, lifting her son into her arms. “The weather will be glorious, so I’ll have the footman set up the trestles in the garden,” she added. “Come on, my darling son. Let’s get you fed and changed.”
David grinned as he watched Marian take her leave of the study. He was about to follow her out of the room when his attention went to the window.
He frowned.
Beyond the glass, rain poured from a ceiling of dark gray clouds. He was reminded of the day he had traveled to the Soho Club.
“Glorious?” he repeated to himself. What could she be thinking?
But two hours later, as the wedding guests gathered in the gardens behind Engleston Park for a huge breakfast, the blue sky was clear and the summer sun was warming the air. Wearing the same gown she had been wearing the day she had met David at the Soho Club, Marian smiled as she played hostess for her first wedding breakfast.
Standing at the other end of the trestles while conversing with one of his tenant farmers, David was reminded of the first and only day of his betrothal. Of the words they had spoken in the corridor. If he hadn’t overcome his shyness to say “hello” to her when she emerged from her room that day, Marian might not have asked the question that led to their marriage.
He captured his wife’s attention and crooked a finger.
Intrigued, Marian ended her conversation with one of the villagers to announce that everyone should be seated and to start eating before she joined him. “Yes, my dearest?”
“By chance, are you my betrothed?” he asked, sounding breathless. He held out a small velvet box.
Marian blinked. And blinked again. “Why, yes. Yes I am,” she replied happily, taking the box from him. She opened the hinged lid and gasped at seeing a sapphire ring. “Another ring?” she asked in surprise.
“Happy anniversary,” he said before he kissed her thoroughly.
He was oblivious to the few wedding guests who paid witness, but Frank Tuttlebaum and his new wife took the opportunity to exchange their own kiss at the other end of the table.
Two weeks went by before it rained again.