Epilogue
One Year Later
Lowndesbury House
“Mama! Come play with us. Papa is teaching us a new card game.” Joshua ran to me and gave baby Colin a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll just watch you from here and cheer you on. I have to feed the baby again soon.” Colin was only two weeks old, and I’d opted to feed him myself instead of hiring a wet nurse.
Joshua stared at the baby a moment longer, then ran back to the table as William began to deal the cards.
“Remember, don’t show your cards to anyone else.” My handsome husband winked at me before picking up his own cards and studying them.
I watched them—William, Samuel, Annabelle, Sarah, and Joshua—playing cards, laughing, and talking.
And tomorrow, if it stopped raining, they would go out on the lawn and play pall mall.
Sarah was becoming quite good and had beaten the rest of her siblings more times than anyone else.
William wanted the children to know how it felt to win, so he rarely tried hard.
I could play, but the children made the rule that I wasn’t allowed to win.
William and I laughed about this in private.
How sweet life was now, surrounded by people who loved me. It wasn’t always easy—the children fought and cried and had nightmares, and there were the usual vexations and trials of life, but to no longer be the orphan with no family was better than anything I could imagine.
How wonderful it was to be loved by William.
His love healed my heart in ways I hadn’t known was possible.
His gentleness and goodness toward the children and me gave me a new confidence, instilled me with a profound peace, and even made God’s love feel more real than it ever had before.
I could literally feel God’s love now, because I knew what it felt like to be loved deeply and well.
And I saw this effect in William also. He seemed more relaxed, more joyful, and he admitted that he felt a newly invigorated faith that he hadn’t felt since he was very young—if ever. There was a quiet joy every Sunday walking home from church with our little brood.
There hadn’t seemed to be any repercussions to our marriage, contrary to my fears of bringing shame to him.
We had Lady Derringer to champion us, and the fact that my husband was an earl seemed to mostly smooth everything over.
But if we ever lived in London again, I suppose we would discover how welcome—or unwelcome—we were in the uppermost social circles.
The orphanage for boys was getting its new roof, funded by the new donors we’d helped secure.
And the home for orphaned girls was newly opened in a building not far from the boys’ home, funded by the fifty-thousand pounds I had received.
So far I had not been directly involved, besides that William and I had overseen the hiring of the director and the other caregivers, including Gretchen, with a handsome increase in pay.
Perhaps someday I would become more involved, but for now I felt God leading me to give as much love and care as I could to the children I already loved so profoundly. And it was enough. It was more than enough.