Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
North Roseton Hall
“Ido not know where to start. Oh, bother, my uncle. He used this place as a cash cow and did not care how it might be maintained!”
“Tell me,” Keaton grinned.
Georgia sighed, and he patted her hand where it held his arm. They stood before Roseton Hall, the house in which she had grown up with Elias. The house in which she had lived with her brother after his ascension to the lordship.
It was falling into ruin.
It had been six months since Elias' body had been exhumed and laid to rest in the family crypt at Roseton. Keaton's solicitor had finally defeated the legal challenges from the Vexleys, and the manor had formally been inherited by Georgia.
“Uncle Benjamin will be spitting feathers at the loss of the estate and its income. But it was never his to exploit. It does not feel like mine either, though,” she sighed. “It is my brother's. I am not sure that I could live here again, even if I did not have a home in Westvale.
“Most of the windows are broken, and ivy has taken over the front of the house. A chimney has fallen, and there are gaps in the roof. One wing appears to have been partly demolished, and not by nature. Heavens, I think my uncle used it as a quarry for his own refurbishments…”
“That is over now. Your brother is resting where he was always meant to be. And the property is yours,” Keaton reassured, taking her hand and patting it gently.
Georgia moved his hand to her belly, where their son was growing restive, responding to his mother's tension. Georgia had no doubt that it was a son she carried. Nor did she doubt that he had been conceived on that first glorious day of lovemaking after she had recovered from her injuries.
“Does he kick?” Keaton asked.
“Like a bull!” Georgia laughed, “he will be a giant like his father. Let us walk, that always calms him. Amelia wants us to see the job she has done with the flowers in the family chapel.”
They proceeded to walk an overgrown path around the house. Georgia felt sad to see the degradation of the place, but also excited.
“It does not matter that it seems overwhelming. The quest is a worthwhile one.”
“To turn Roseton Hall into a refuge for the poor and destitute? I should say so,” Keaton agreed, nodding, “and a fitting thank you to a brave man. All will know the name of Elias Roseton.”
“And they will know his face,” she declared with a smile in her voice. “Those preliminary sculptures you made are remarkable, by the by, given that you could never touch his actual face.”
Keaton shrugged. “If you wish a statue of him, I will oblige, but I feel sure there are far more gifted artists we could give the commission to.”
Georgia hugged his shoulders tightly. “I do not want the work of a stranger to stand welcoming the needy to Roseton. I want it to be something of your hands, and your hands only.”
She threw her arms around his waist and nuzzled against his side.
Keaton failed to rein in his wide smile, as he so often did these days.
They walked, entwined with each other, until they reached the old chapel attached to the side of Roseton Hall.
Its roof had been looted, leaving bare timbers.
The windows were also gone, but as they stepped inside, Georgia gasped. Keaton breathed deeply.
The air was full of the sight and smell of flowers. The altar was bedecked, as was the side chapel in which Elias had been laid to rest alongside his ancestors. The pews were filled with artful displays of color, and flowers had been arranged in every sconce and nook.
“Oh my, Amelia!” Georgia exclaimed, tears filling her eyes, “This is truly beautiful!”
“I cannot see it, but I can smell it. Is it as remarkable as the scent tells me?” Keaton asked.
“Heavenly,” Georgia chimed.
Amelia blushed as she walked towards them along the aisle.
“I was aided. In fact, I wanted you to meet him. A most talented young man who has inherited a sizable landholding and had the idea of farming not livestock or food but roses. Geoffrey? Come and meet the Duke and Duchess.”
Amelia held out her hand, and a young man stepped into sight, putting down a bouquet of cut flowers clumsily and wiping his hands on his breeches.
“Good morning to you, Your Graces. I am Geoffrey Knight.”
Amelia giggled. “Geoffrey is shy because he has no title. Do you remember me saying that I would accept a farmer provided he was handsome?”
“And strong,” Georgia amended, laughing when the young man’s cheeks swelled in a crimson blush. “And I said I just needed a good man.”
Amelia smiled happily. “Well, I have all three in Geoffrey.”
“Well met, Master Knight,” Keaton declared, “a novel idea too. Demand for flowers is constant. There will always be weddings and funerals to decorate. I commend your original thinking.”
Geoffrey actually blushed deeper, shifting his feet. “Thank you, Your Grace. When Amelia is one-and-twenty, I sincerely hope it will not be amiss for me to ask for her hand in marriage.”
“Amiss? I would welcome it!” Georgia cried out, “I have never seen my cousin this happy. I welcome you in advance to our family. I cannot speak for her parents, but as her cousin, I am glad she has finally found someone to share in her joys other than myself.”
“My mother has been writing to me,” Amelia said with a sigh, “though my father remains intransigent. It is a side of him I have never experienced. But she may come around. She is softening, I think. Seeing the error in how she treated you.”
Georgia felt Keaton stiffen beside her. She patted his arm and brushed a kiss against his cheek.
“I am safe,” she reminded him gently.
“Your Graces!” came a voice from outside, “Are you within?”
It was Thorne. Keaton turned as he stepped into the chapel.
“Mr. Thorne! Welcome, and this must be your wife, Margaret?” Georgia greeted heartily, seeing the woman who walked beside Thorne.
“Yes, Your Grace, I've brought her along to see the place we'll be custodians of. A lot of work to be done, but we’re up to the task.”
“I can't thank you enough for allowing us to bring our family here. Aloysius did such dangerous work to keep a roof over our heads. I hated it,” Margaret said timidly but with growing confidence, “the opportunity to settle down somewhere so remarkable is just... heaven-sent.”
“I can think of no one more competent as an administrator,” Keaton shrugged, “and deemed the post a fitting reward for your hard work on our behalf. Particularly tracking down the men employed by my uncle to wound me.”
“I leave it now to the justice of the King for all of them,” Thorne uttered sincerely. “Still, your generosity was unlooked for and unexpected, but no less welcome for all of that.”
“I would like to visit with Elias for a few minutes alone,” Georgia said.
“Of course. We will leave you to it,” Thorne nodded, ushering his wife from the chapel.
Amelia and Geoffrey followed. Soon, only Keaton remained.
“Go,” he murmured, “I shall sit among the roses and savor their scent. Speak to your brother and tell him of the adventures that lie ahead for you. He will be glad to hear of it.”
Georgia smiled wistfully, a tear threatening to spill as she let her hand slip from Keaton's for just a few moments.
She ambled through the chapel into the stony silence of the side-chapel.
There were the stone tablets in the walls and floor, commemorating the lords and ladies of Roseton.
One, close to the entrance, was newer than the others, its lettering sharp and freshly incised.
Elias Roseton - son, brother, and adventurer in the finest tradition of Roseton. Exploring the heavens. Lost but now found.
“Well, brother,” Georgia whispered, kneeling to lay a single rose on the stone, “I found you at last. I promised I would. I miss you terribly. I do not think I will ever stop. I wish you could share this adventure with me. For you, it would be the adventure of becoming an uncle to my son and a brother to my husband. You and Keaton would be firm friends, I am certain of it. Thank you for all you did for me. And for my husband. My brother. My protector. I am finally free now, facing the future with the same light in my eyes that I remember so often in yours.”
She rose, returning to the chapel and finding her husband among the roses.
She walked softly, approaching him with as much stealth as she could.
He sat with his head back, eyes closed, breathing deeply.
Before she could reach him, his head turned, unerringly in her direction, eyes opening. He smiled.
“Move as quietly as you like. Your soul calls to mine. I could find you in a crowd of a thousand. Come to me, let us rest here for a moment.”
Georgia dashed to him the rest of the way, sinking down in his embrace amid a sea of roses.
“You always have the right words to say. I suppose that is why I love you so.”
The End?