Epilogue
Cheetham Hall Sussex
Two months later
“Fetch, Kes!” said Emily, throwing a stick she had found on the beach for Kester.
The hound took off after the stick, his paws kicking up wet sand.
Emily took Deo’s hand again as they resumed their leisurely stroll along the beach.
Her feet were bare and her skirts hiked up to stay clear of the splash of the waves washing up around their feet.
Deo had eschewed his boots also, and they left two sets of footprints behind them in the wet sand, one large and one small.
It was a fine, sunny day with only a scattering of white fluffy clouds overhead. They’d had a magnificent summer.
Kester came back with the stick, panting happily, and Deo paused to throw it this time, sending Kes careering down the beach three times farther away than she had been able to throw it.
They had been back home for over a month now and Emily was filled to the brim with contentment. They spent their days working on the catalogue of antiquities for Aberdeen, and in between, Deo’s book and their nights curled up in each other’s arms. Really, could life get any more perfect?
They had received another letter from Aberdeen this morning—they would be going up to London to present a paper on the finds from The Castle to the Antiquarian Society and discuss the Arthurian connection.
After that, they were going to Cornwall to work on a dig at Tintagel, the supposed birthplace of Arthur, where some farmer had uncovered another Celtic cross. It was too exciting for words.
The breeze tugged at her cloak and her hair, and she shivered involuntarily.
“You’re getting cold,” said Deo, wrapping an arm round her and rubbing her arm. “We should head back to the house.”
“No, no. I’m fine.”
“I’ve thought of something I want to add to our paper,” he said, firmly turning them to head back up the beach.
“Oh well, in that case—” she said with a grin.
He whistled for Kes, and they headed back to the house, discussing the addendum he wanted to make.
Settled in their study again, Em remarked, “We will be able to see Emrys and Annis in London and give them our congratulations in person. I’m so happy for them,” looking up from the paper she was proofreading, her mind having wandered to the letter she had received from Annis that morning.
“Hm?” Deo pushed his glasses up his nose. “Yes, of course, one more to add to their clan. I swear Emrys is as clucky as a broody hen.”
Em peeped at him, a little disconcerted by his comment.
The subject of children had never come up between them.
Their minds had always been on other things, but she wondered now if Deo even wanted them.
Given his own upbringing, it might not be surprising if he didn’t.
She was conscious of a twinge of disappointment.
She watched his hawkish profile for a moment as he continued scratching away at the sheet of paper in front of him.
“Do you want children, Deo?”
“What?” he looked round, dropping his pen which spluttered on the sheet.
“I said—”
“I heard what you said! Are you pregnant, Em?”
“No, I don’t think so. I just wondered. We haven’t ever talked about it.”
His shoulders dropped. “I should have an heir, but it’s not something I—” He stopped. “I’m not sure that I know how to be a father, Em. But I’ll try.”
“Oh, Deo.” She got up and sat herself down on his lap, wrapping her arms round his neck. “You’ll be a wonderful father.”
His face screwed up. “I haven’t much of an example to follow.”
“Yes, you do, because you will not be like your father.”
“I suppose.” He hesitated. “Do you want children, Em?”
“Eventually, yes, but I’m rather enjoying our time with just the two of us. Mama had such difficulties. I hope I won’t be the same.”
“I think you will make a wonderful mother, Em.”
“Not like mine?”
“No. Not like yours,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her.
A little while later, she said, “At the risk of upsetting you, Annis told me in her letter that Bidenden has been packed off to India by his father.”
“Hm,” he grunted. “He’s lucky he didn’t get sent to Australia.”
“Would that have been worse? They’re both hot countries, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but India is part of the British Empire, and Australia is a penal colony. I would imagine the facilities are pretty rough.”
She nodded and snuggled into his embrace. “Did I tell you today that I love you?” she asked.
“Yes, twice, no three times. Four if you count that one.” He smiled.
“Well, you have told me at least”—she counted off on her fingers—“six times!” she said, grinning at him.
“As it should be,” he said. “I love you, Emily Frances.” He scooped her up and rose.
“Deo, where are we going?”
“Bedroom. We have time before dinner.”
“Oh, Deo.” She flung her arms round his neck.