Epilogue
Four months later
“Thank you for allowing us to stop over on our way to Scotland.” Stephen Blake drew out the chair for his bride, Evelyn Blake, as they took their seats in Havensbrooke’s dining room.
Grace was particularly proud of her Christmas decorations this year.
She’d gotten the patients involved in foraging for mistletoe, holly, fresh pine, and pine cones in order to cover the windowsills, mantels, and doorframes with some natural wintry ornament or other.
She’d even taught a class on how to make mistletoe balls, which very few of them seemed as excited to create as she was.
One patient, dear Lieutenant Ashford, gave a class in small wood carving, so miniature hand-carved woodland creatures were now scattered within the greenery throughout the house—tiny foxes peeking from pine boughs, rabbits nestled among holly berries.
The activities had seemed to cheer the men’s hearts, especially the hearts of those who couldn’t travel home for Christmas. Frederick had even orchestrated hunting excursions for some of the recovering soldiers and included others in renovations to the outbuildings across the estate.
Everyone needed purpose. Ways to use their God-given creativity and see something broken find restoration.
“I suspect you may be with us for a few days at least.” Frederick took his seat at the head of the table and gestured toward the window. “The snow still hasn’t stopped. And it’s likely worse in Scotland, especially where you’re traveling.”
“Where are you traveling?” Grace asked, adjusting her body in the chair as she attempted to find a comfortable position. All day long, she’d had the most difficult time feeling comfortable at all.
“My mother left me a small estate near Inverness. Kilmory House,” Blake answered. “Not too far from where your family’s estate is at Mosslea, my lady.”
Blake had more secrets than anyone she’d ever met, and that was a significant statement.
“So that’s how you knew so much about getting around Scotland, then?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “That and … my occupation.” He grinned. “I told my lovely Mrs. Blake that we would go somewhere peaceful and quiet, and you’d be hard pressed to find many other places in all the world as remote and quiet as Kilmory House.”
“I’m rather looking forward to it.” The edge in Evie’s personality, the hurt and mistrust, had slowly been softening over the past few months of being loved and adored by Blake.
Love was such a powerful force. Tempering and molding and strengthening in all the best ways.
And wonderfully surprising. Like the unexpected romance of two spies.
Or at least one spy and one former spy.
“You may be in luck with your visit, Blake,” Frederick said. “Tomorrow we’re expecting Elliott and Amelia to join us for an early Christmas dinner before they travel to the home of Elliott’s mother in Yorkshire.”
Grace grinned as she rubbed at a sudden twinge in her back.
The idea of Lady Amelia and her footman-turned-husband, Elliott, losing their titles and status for a few weeks each year to spend the holidays with Elliott’s mother and his sister’s family warmed Grace’s heart.
But it fit the couple perfectly. He from simple beginnings, she a lost duchess finding herself. It was rather magical.
Rather like a novel, actually.
So even more magical. Christmas probably helped.
“How is Elliott adjusting to the life of the gentry?” Blake took his seat near Frederick, sending a wink to Zahra, who had joined them along with Lily, Frederick’s sweet seven-year-old daughter from a previous scandal.
Frederick and Grace had moved Lily into the newly renovated nursery three weeks before, encouraging her to join them for dinner a few times a week as she adjusted to becoming a more regular fixture in their family.
She had Frederick’s dark hair, and her large blue eyes took in everything with quiet observation.
Gentle. Thoughtful. And she followed Zahra around as if the girl hung all the stars.
“He’ll adjust well to anything as long as he can be beside Lady Amelia, I do believe,” Grace said, catching Frederick’s eye from across the table. He’d forgotten to take off his spectacles after spending time wrapping Christmas gifts, but Grace didn’t mind.
Especially when a dark lock of his hair fell over his brow. The spectacles only made him look more dashing in a bookish sort of way. A lovely swell of heat rushed up through her in appreciation. And of course, everything was better with bookishness.
“Though she’s rather an unconventional duchess,” Grace continued, sending a smile to Lily as the little girl stared over at Blake and Evie with shy curiosity. “But that seems to suit the two of them well. Unconventional.”
“I believe that may be the theme of all of the couples in our party tomorrow, darling,” Frederick teased. “We none of us expected the romances we found.”
“There are no complaints from me.” Blake sat back, his grin only broadening.
“I feel as if I got much better than I deserve and will probably prove much more troublesome than she can handle, but I find a man will do about anything for the love of a fantastic woman.” Blake sent a look to Evie that made her lips curve despite her attempt at restraint.
From the looks of them, they were rather enamored with each other. Which was exactly as a married couple ought to be to Grace’s mind, even if it wasn’t frequently portrayed in novels.
Grace sighed. Besides, romance seemed even more magical at Christmas.
Her gaze moved to each entrance into the room, where a mistletoe sprig hung … just in case, of course.
“With my … occupational history, Stephen,” Evie said, her gaze daring him to test her, “I feel I can manage whatever trouble you’d like to inspire.”
Blake’s grin only grew. “You’re absolutely perfect, light of my life.”
“No.” Evie’s eyelids sank closed despite the tip of her smile. “Not that one either.”
Blake’s gentle teasing search for an endearment even brought out Zahra’s chuckle. The whole experience went right over dear little Lily’s head.
“I am looking forward to Amelia and Elliott’s visit, though.” Grace nodded toward the decorations. “I’d had every intention of dressing in disguise as Father Christmas and surprising them.”
Frederick choked on his wine. “You were going to do what?”
“Since we’re having some of the children from Astlynn Commons visit for presents and cake, I thought I’d finally get to dress in disguise.
” She patted her ever-extending abdomen with amusement.
“I’m certainly round enough to play the part.
All the books say Father Christmas is jolly and portly.
I can play the jolly part, though my laugh isn’t quite low enough. ”
“You’re missing a few of the other aspects, aren’t you, Lady Astley?” Blake’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Beard? Height? The minor detail of being male?”
“The children don’t care about such technicalities.” She waved away his words. “Besides, I made a white beard out of cloth and cotton wool, and it looks fairly believable. I tested it in the mirror.”
“Did you?” Frederick coughed out again, lips twitching.
“Though I’ll admit the beard kept slipping when I attempted the ‘ho, ho, ho.’ It’s rather more difficult than one might think to maintain proper beard adhesion while projecting Christmas cheer.”
Blake chuckled.
“Is this a typical Christmas tradition for Havensbrooke?” Evie asked, looking around the table with barely concealed amusement. “Lady Astley dressing as Father Christmas?”
“No,” Frederick answered, giving his head a firm shake before leveling his gaze on Grace. “It is not. Especially when Lady Astley is supposed to be resting.”
“Good luck with that one, Freddie.” Blake raised his glass in mock salute. “I can’t imagine you’ll ever win the battle to have the enigmatic and creative Lady Astley rest for any significant length of time.”
“She rests very well when she’s reading storybooks to me and Lily at night,” Zahra offered with the solemnity of someone providing crucial evidence. “She finished two whole pages last night before falling asleep in the middle of a sentence.”
Grace stared a bit open-mouthed at Zahra. “Did I?”
“It was no worry, Mama Grace,” came Lily’s quiet voice. “Zahra finished reading while you slept.”
Grace blinked, a little uncertain how to respond. She had no memory of the situation at all. Except for waking to find Zahra and Lily both curled up in bed together, fast asleep, and Frederick gently touching her face to waken her.
Another twinge shot through Grace’s back, sharper this time. She shifted in her chair again, trying to find relief.
“Well, darling, it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” Frederick’s smile wavered as if he were fighting laughter. “That the place you’d feel most capable of resting would be while reading a book.”
His eyes were absolutely glowing with affection and barely suppressed mirth.
Grace sighed away the confusion. She loved his smile. And if her occasional ridiculousness brought it out in him, then she wouldn’t worry too much about her idiosyncrasies. In fact, they’d served her very well on quite a few occasions.
“You’ll have a treat tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Blake.
” Grace brought her hands together and donned her best smile for the newlyweds.
“Our patients have assembled a male choir, led by Dr. Shaw, and they’re planning to sing carols for us.
” She looked over at Brandon, who stood waiting to serve.
“They’re actually very good, aren’t they, Brandon? ”
“Indeed, my lady.” He dipped his head, but the whisper of a smile softened his expression.
He’d been closer to smiling much more often since all the hullabaloo with the thieves and the spies had passed by. An even greater bond had been built between the dear butler and the lord and lady of the house.
She suspected that nearly dying together did that to people.