Epilogue
THE SOUND OF musicians tuning their instruments sent a spark of excitement up Grace’s spine as she watched dancers begin to line up.
The last two harvest balls had been, quite frankly, ruined for her.
First because of a failed betrothal, and second because of a head injury that had set her on edge the entire night.
But now, she intended to enjoy the night to its fullest.
Occasionally, she still ran into a person she did not recall, or a memory was mentioned that she did not possess, but otherwise, the entirety had been returned to her. And those missteps of the mind could very likely have nothing to do with her two falls the year before.
Hands landed on Grace’s shoulders from behind, preceding Benedict’s whisper in her ear. “Dance with me, love,” he murmured, palms running down her arms to her hands.
“With your own wife? It is not done,” she murmured back, a smile twisting its way about her words.
He came around her, settling at her side. She had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze.
“I hardly care. Do you?” he asked.
She scrunched her nose but shook her head. “Not particularly, no.”
“Then dance with me.”
“But I had hoped to watch Clara.” She closed the final inch between the two of them, leaning her shoulder against his chest. “Mama has set her sights on Lord Blakely, who seems equally interested, yet Clara detests him for reasons known only to herself. It will certainly be amusing to watch the game of cat and mouse.”
“Now Lady Ellison, I thought you would be more sympathetic to her cause. After all, there was a time you detested me.”
“I did not even know you,” she returned, smiling.
“You married me after six weeks of true acquaintance, then,” he said, his chest rumbling with the words and a light chuckle. “Some might say that is a sign of madness.”
She tilted her head in concession of his words. “I did sustain two head injuries in two months…”
“You wound me, wife.”
She turned, chin lifted to meet his eyes. “You know I jest. And it was you who told me you wished to be teased always.”
“It was because I thought it was a sign of your love for me.”
“It was. And is.” Her eyes crinkled with a smile. The crowd shifted around them, like water about a river rock. “I will always love you. More each day.”
“So you are saying you will dance with me?” His mouth lifted in a grin that she could not help mirroring.
“Very well, if I must.”
He held out his arm. “I shall ignore that tone of exasperation.”
She wrapped her hand around his upper arm, leaning close. “Ignorance is not always bliss.”
He chuckled as they neared the line of dancers. “It is for your mother.” He nodded toward the side of the dancers, where Mama was very clearly doing her utmost to convince Clara to join the set.
“She learned nothing from her interference with us. Perhaps if you had turned out to be terrible, she might have felt some remorse at the falsehood she enacted.” Grace shook her head, but a smile caught her lips.
“Yet I cannot find it in myself to be upset, because you are not terrible in the least.”
“My wife, the flatterer.”
Grace’s mouth quirked. Following the debacle the year before, Mama had frankly refused to apologize for her deceit.
She had lifted her chin and pointed at the young couple in love and claimed her part in bringing them together.
It might have grated on Grace more except she’d agreed.
Mama and Lady Shefford had been the cause of her getting to know Benedict, before recalling his role in her past.
Of course, living out of Mama’s influence helped those charitable thoughts along immensely. And Benedict and Grace intended to invite Clara to spend the Christmas season with them to enjoy just such a respite, regardless of Grace’s amusement in watching the scene before her now.
They reached the dancers, and she separated from her husband for the dance, standing across from him, though their eyes remained tethered. His were dark, slightly creased around the edges, and intently surveying her as if he could not wait until the moment they were together again.
And more than feeling loved, she felt seen. Understood. Celebrated. Nearly every moment with Benedict, from planning for their future to living in the present, brought her joy and growth.
She was, for the first time in her life, free to be entirely herself.