Epilogue
Lavender stood staring out the grand windows from the library at Everleigh Park.
One hand on her abdomen, considering when she ought to tell Thomas the news of their impending parenthood.
In her other hand was a book of poetry. A year ago, she couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect marriage.
She’d been considering Lord Chilcott, who was in prison now along with Miss Dalrymple.
She shuddered at the way her life could have turned.
The apple orchard outside was filled with pale pink blossoms over the landscape—worthy of a poet’s prose.
She’d never seen the trees here at this time of year, and it was glorious.
She was beyond grateful for the ability she had to see them without taking the risk of being among them and all the bees busy pollinating.
The soft sound of the door opening made her tear her gaze from the beautiful scene, and she was rewarded with something even better.
Thomas strode toward her with a fistful of papers in hand and a smile so wide it was contagious.
“The committee has agreed to add more emphasis on reading at the local parish schools. And it sounds like we will be gathering some numbers on the literacy rates to see what needs we have in order to make schooling more widely accessible.”
“That’s wonderful news!” Lavender hugged him and kissed his stubbled cheek. “Your distraction for the project has led you to lose track of your morning shave. Or were you planning on disappearing and needed a disguise?”
He chuckled and rubbed his face along her neck, causing gooseflesh to erupt across her skin. “You know you like it when I let it grow out every now and then,” he whispered in her ear.
“I won’t deny that,” she said with a smile. “Do you know where my brother has run off to?”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t. But my guess is that he took his little friends out to the riverbank. I believe Jack has convinced them that purple frogs actually exist.”
Lavender laughed. “I hope they have taken someone with them.”
“He’s thirteen, so of course he didn’t,” Thomas replied. “But Jack is trailing them should they need any assistance with the little sister.”
Thomas and Lavender had invited Ash to visit for his Easter holiday.
He’d brought along Ben, his particular friend, and Ben's little sister, as their parents were traveling to Scotland on family business. The children would only be staying for a fortnight, and Lavender wished she could pause time for Ash. It did Lavender’s heart good to see him run and play with the two children—if you could call teenage boys children.
It did even more good to see the little girl refuse to listen to a thing Ash said.
She was driving the older boys a little mad and giving everyone else reason to laugh.
Laughter hadn’t been in short supply for Lavender, but she suspected it had for Ash.
As he was the only child left for their mother to raise, he received more attention from her than was good for him.
Even with his being away at school, her ambitions for him only grew by the day.
At the age of thirteen, he’d become Lord Gardner, and he had impossible expectations he was trying to live up to for her.
“How are Ann and Geoffrey getting along in their lessons?” Thomas asked.
Lavender smiled and leaned her back into his sturdy chest. Ann was a scullery maid, and Geoffrey was a stable boy.
“They are picking things up quickly—Geoffrey especially. He reminds me of Jack learning to read. He’s hungry for it.
Ann is young enough that she doesn’t realize what doors it will open to her in the future yet. ”
“I’ve been thinking they need a dedicated space for their studies,” Thomas dipped down and kissed Lavender’s scarred arm. “What do you say to making over a corner of this room for that purpose?”
The library was as much of a sacred place to Lavender as was the church.
She couldn’t imagine a better way to enhance the space.
“I love it.” She looked toward a corner of the room that was rarely used.
“We can have all sorts of materials there to help them practice. They wouldn’t need to resort to tracing letters in the dirt outside. ”
Thomas laughed. “I’ll have you know that I will still encourage writing in the dirt. It’s good for the soul to have one’s hands in the soil.”
“You’re right, of course.” Lavender bit back a smile. “We might need to hurry the project along before I’m of no use.”
Thomas came in front of her and searched her face, his gray eyes brimming with concern. “Are you ill?”
Lavender yawned and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “No, but I’d like it to be done before our baby arrives.”
“Our baby?” Thomas’s jaw dropped and he looked down at her stomach. “You are . . . we are . . . with child?”
Lavender nodded. “You’re going to be a father, Thomas.”
He picked her up and spun her in tight circles. “I am elated! And what a lucky baby we’ll have with you as their mother. I cannot think of anyone so qualified to help them feel loved and cherished.” He set her down gently.
Lavender pulled him to her. “So long as we get to love the little one together, that is all I ask.”
Thomas stroked the scars on her arm with the pad of his thumb—a habit he’d developed quickly in their marriage. “It is already done, my love.” And he kissed her as improperly as one’s loving husband ought to.