Epilogue
Lochlan Finley
Nightingale House, 1894
I went looking for the love of my life, carrying a bouquet I’d collected myself of daffodils and daisies. We’d parted ways after our morning walk. Now, rather than finishing my business correspondence with one of my brewery managers, I wanted to know what she was up to. She wasn’t in her library, so I continued down the hall, carting the fresh blooms.
I found her in the drawing room, hands full of linen, cleaning something at the table. I left the flowers for her on the armchair, then I moved to join her.
“What’s this? Not more penance, I hope.” I thought we’d finished with all of that ages ago.
“Not penance,” she said, and there was a glow to her I’d never seen before. She hadn’t even commented on the flowers, she was so distracted. Her smile glistened. Her hickory eyes were bright. “It’s a gift from the weaver women. I’ve been leaving them offerings every week for a while now, and this morning they left me a present in return.”
I crossed to her, waiting expectantly for her to show it to me. She pulled aside the linen in her hands, uncovering the gift.
There sat a simple rose gold band, glistening against the muted tablecloth. I recognized it immediately, and my heart swelled. “My ring.”
“That’s right,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I was just making it more presentable. It was still caked in mud. In fact, there was so much mud in the basket, I almost didn’t see their gift at all.”
“Put it on,” I told her.
Rynn sent me a watery smile. “If that’s what you want.”
“Of course, that’s what I want. And don’t ever take it off,” I insisted.
She slid it onto her finger, then held up her hand so I could inspect it. I stalked around the table toward her, wanting a much, much closer look. Rynn leapt back from me.
“What’s the matter?” Grinning, I tried to shift nearer.
She was on to me, and she took another firm step away. “You have that look.”
“What look?” I asked innocently.
“That pirate look,” she said, a secret smile in the corner of her beautiful mouth.
I lunged for her. Rynn let out a playful yelp, dancing out of my reach.
“But I always have a pirate look,” I protested.
She maneuvered to keep the table between us. “Not this kind. I know all of your looks now. This is an I’m-going-to-rip-that-dress-right-off-your-body pirate look.”
“How is that any different than the manner in which I always look at you?” I lunged across the table, grabbing for her, and the quick little vixen dodged me.
“It’s completely different this time!” she objected, lips twisting as she fought back a smile.
“ How ?”
“I love this dress!” she shouted, balling up the skirts, pulling them closer to her body for their protection.
It was a pretty dress in a shade of violet I liked. The sleeves hung low from her shoulders, and the neckline showed off her bust, but that wouldn’t save it. Rynn knew it, and she ran for the archway.
“If you hold very still,” I said, mischief coloring my voice, “I won’t have to rip anything.”
“Don’t you dare tear it,” she said, squealing when I cut her off by the doors. She pivoted sharply, then raced behind the small sofa. “If you do, you’re buying me two more just like it—three more!” she shouted when I vaulted the sofa.
I chased my nightingale around the house I’d built just for her. Her laughter echoed off the once lonely walls. My heart fluttered in my chest at the sound of her delight, too full of love to be haunted by anything else.
The End
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