Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
The tide brushed against the shore on a sunny May afternoon. The beach carved along the cliffside as far as the eye could see. A salty wind carried the cries of seagulls in the distance, flying in the direction of mainland England across the sea where real life waited for their return.
Nicholas crouched in the sand, observing the gentle retreat of the waves.
The roar of the sea was almost deafening.
It rolled in and tickled his bare feet in the sand.
He cast a glance over his shoulder at Amelia, sitting on a blanket further up the beach with a book on her lap.
The pale green ribbons on her straw bonnet whipped against the air.
“Something the matter?” she asked when he approached some minutes later, squinting up at him from beneath her parasol. “Are you wishing we had brought the bathing machine now? I told you. The water is warm today.”
“As if the absence of a bathing machine would stop me. No one on this little Isle of Man cares a whit who I am.” He sat beside her and leaned back on his elbows, wincing at the bright sun on the horizon. “I would strip down right here and now if the mood struck me.”
“Why, I know you would,” Amelia teased, turning the page. “Peacock that you are. Always eager to show yourself off.”
“Careful now, or I shall have you divest me immediately.”
They smiled together. Nicholas admired her. She had removed her gloves to read, and the scars on her arm shone in the sun. His stomach knotted.
She assures me this is for the best, and I should trust her.
She snapped her book shut and laughed.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You,” she said tenderly. “Threatening to strip down. You must be the first duke in all of history to wade naked out into the sea.”
“Do you think this age of decorum has lasted forever?”
The sun had caught Amelia’s face, and her nose and cheeks were covered with a faint constellation of freckles. His heart clenched to behold her. Every passing day, he thought she became more beautiful.
The wind cast her hair into her face, and she straightened her bonnet, turning toward the sea again.
“You cannot strip now, regardless. Freddy and Lou will be back any minute from their walk, and I will die of embarrassment if they catch you in the flesh.”
He scoffed.
“So it is your turn to laugh now?” she said, scowling.
“Your brother is far from a prude—and his new wife is French, for heaven’s sake. They are likely off somewhere divesting themselves as we speak.”
Amelia grabbed her book and swatted him. Nicholas dodged her attack and took her wrist, placing a kiss on her hand before releasing her.
“You would not know she was French by looking at her,” Amelia said. “She is extremely modest and refined. Far more refined than me anyway.”
“Good.”
She crawled on her knees and settled beside him. He took her into his arms while he could, relishing this rare moment alone with her.
Given the war activities in France, it had been decided that neither Amelia nor Freddy would be heading to the Continent after all. The viscount had gone only briefly to retrieve his beloved doctor, who had returned to England with him to set up a research practice in London under a male alias.
It had been Louise’s idea—now the Viscountess Tate—to summer on the Isle of Man, where Amelia could begin her treatments in privacy.
She had diagnosed Amelia with a falling sickness, confidently proclaiming that there was nothing wrong with her mind, just like they had always suspected.
She believed that Amelia’s nervous system was imbalanced, though Nicholas was far too uneducated on medical matters to understand the finer points of what she had explained to them.
A new diet had been prescribed, along with some modern mineral treatments—and the occasional bloodletting that Nicholas abhorred.
Amelia was often tired when Louise finished her work.
But it had been a month since she had experienced her last convulsions, and her issues with tiredness and memory seemed to improve by the day.
“Do you think the renovations will be done by the time we return home?” Amelia asked, snuggling closer to him.
He kissed her temple. “Are you longing for Riverside Court already?”
“And why should I not? Oxfordshire is the most beautiful place in the world.”
“For many years, Oxford society tried to shun you,” he pointed out.
“But that was then, and this is now,” she said emphatically, glancing up at him with eyes the same shade as the sea before them. “My work is there, and my family.”
“Not your brother,” Nicholas said, yawning. “He intends to settle in London.”
“And shall we go with him?”
“Why ever should we?”
“Because you love London,” she cried.
“Yes, but I love you so much more, my darling. And so long as you wish to refresh Riverside Court, that is where we shall remain.” He closed his eyes, but his peace was quickly broken by the thought of his brother. “Though I suppose it would be wise to sojourn a while during the Season.”
“To ensure your brother finds an appropriate wife?”
“Hm,” he agreed.
“That might not be necessary. They tend to be found in the most peculiar of places.” She laughed softly, then groaned, signaling to him that they were no longer alone with a pat on the side. “They are back.”
“So they are,” Nicholas drawled, drawing Amelia back into him. “But while they remain hazy silhouettes on the horizon, I will hold you, as you are mine.”
The sun crested over the isle as night approached. Amelia walked arm in arm with Louise up the cliffside stairs to their rented cottage. Below on the beach, the staff cleared away their dining table, bringing up the empty wine bottles and dinner plates behind them.
“What if I come to you tomorrow morning, dès le réveil?” Louise asked, patting her sister-in-law on the arm.
Their husbands walked ahead of them, laughing at a joke Amelia had missed.
“I know it hurts you, dear. But the earlier in the day we proceed with the treatment, the earlier you will recover.”
“Yes,” Amelia assented. With her free hand, she pulled up the fallen sleeve of her glove to conceal the scars the lancet had left. “That is fine, thank you. So long as I can get a good night’s rest tonight, all will be well for the morning.”
“They are tiring when they are together.” Louise nodded toward the men, a smile warming her elegant features.
Her dark brown hair took on an auburn hue in the evening light.
“It is difficult to believe that they were once the fiercest enemies. But that is what Frederick told me. He despised the duke for taking you as his wife. And yet you are perfectly matched.”
“Do you believe so?” Amelia asked, beaming.
The cottage came into view, a secluded stone lodge on the edge of the cliff. The gardeners were finishing their chores behind the house, the area humming with the soothing sounds of late-day activity.
Freddy moved inside alone, while Nicholas lingered at the door, waiting for Amelia. She felt Louise stop her and waved at him to let him know they required a moment alone.
“Have you spoken to him about what we discussed?” Louise asked, dropping her voice low.
“It is always a delicate subject, but one which is necessary to be spoken about between man and wife. It requires complete transparency. Youth is the deciding factor in many issues of health. You should not wait unnecessarily if this is something you truly want.”
Amelia nodded, recalling their earlier discussions about the subject. She looked guiltily at Nicholas from afar, her heart longing to be with him even then.
Patient, surprising, doting Nicholas. Will he understand?
“I will tell him tonight,” Amelia decided.
As was his habit, Nicholas knocked on the door of her bedroom once the house had settled. He found Amelia at her vanity table, combing through her hair.
“You realize your late-night visits require the early dismissal of my maid. I must attend to my evening toilette all by myself for the most part,” she groused when he entered. “If I age terribly, you have only yourself to blame.”
He laughed softly and crossed the room, lying on her bed. He patted the space beside him, and Amelia complied with a smile.
“You looked very serious with the viscountess earlier,” Nicholas began, holding her. “Something I should know about?”
Amelia bit her lip.
“Actually, yes.” She paused, hesitating. “I asked Louise about children again.”
Nicholas’s face fell with a familiar look of horror. Candlelight flickered over his features, the sea hissing through the open window with a scolding sound.
“Amelia, we agreed that it was not safe…” He straightened, releasing her. “Why must we have this conversation time and time again?”
“The last time we discussed having children was before my treatment began. You have said yourself how much I am improving. I feel so much better, Nicholas. Truly, I do.”
“Better does not mean you are well enough to carry a child. I could not bear the thought of any ill befalling you.”
“But we will never know unless we try. I know I am strong enough, my love. I can feel it within myself. And I want a baby. I want your baby.”
“And what about what I want?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing could be worse than losing you. It is not a risk worth taking. Is this because of Philippa and George? We need not do things exactly at their pace. We live our own life.”
“It is not about them. It is not about anyone else.”
“Yes, forgive me.”
He looked genuinely repentant. They were strong in their marriage, more than she ever dreamed they would be. This was the only matter about which they disagreed. And she knew he had his reasons.
“Then let me at least make you a proposal,” she tried, edging closer to him. “If my health has continued to improve by the end of the summer, I want us to reopen this discussion seriously. I fear that… I know you have never longed for children…”
“There are many things I never longed for before I met you,” he reassured her. “That is not what prevents me from agreeing. I would welcome an heir with you as a gift from God. But as I made clear, nothing could be more important to me than your health and happiness.”
He paused, contemplated her seriously.
“The end of the summer?” he asked slowly.
She nodded. “And if you feel the same, I will not raise the matter again until we both feel it is time.”
He hummed. “Alright. It only seems fair to agree to that.”
“Now, come here,” Amelia said, encouraging him closer. “We need not deny ourselves the act even if we deny ourselves the result.”
He laughed against her mouth, pliant when she kissed him. “But one of the many reasons I shall forever love you.”
The End?