Epilogue
West’s fiancée’s hand was warm in the crook of his wool-covered arm. He could still taste the hint of Bella’s apple tart on his lips from when he’d pulled her behind the stables to kiss her silly before Ben caught them and shooed them off.
The sun was warm and bright—perhaps the last riot before winter set in. The whole of the town had turned out for Eliza’s Michaelmas festival. With games, food, and music, laughter abounded on the grounds of Blackwood Grange as it hadn’t ever before---at least not in West’s lifetime.
A flower crown, chrysanthemums woven with other wildflowers from around the dower house, sat atop Bella’s golden curls—made by his own hands. She looked pretty as a picture in her new burgundy velvet frock—perfectly caressing her curves with the express purpose of tormenting him.
“There you two are,” a feminine voice called from behind.
They turned to find Eliza herself carrying a basket overflowing with blooms. She added a heap to Bella’s nearly empty basket.
Bella’s task was to ensure every person in attendance had a flower somewhere on their person.
West didn’t fully understand the purpose, but the effect was nice, and his burgundy lapel bloom matched the ones in Bella’s hair.
“Two more days until the wedding. Are you nervous?” Eliza asked, half distracted as she surveyed the festival with satisfaction.
“Not at all,” Bella said as West answered, “Terrified.”
She whirled to face him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a fearsome little thing. And devilishly hard to keep happy. Of course I’m terrified. Overjoyed, restless, and more than a little excited as well. But also terrified.”
Bella rolled her eyes and turned back to Eliza. “Ignore him. It’s easily done.”
Eliza’s smile was warm and… knowing? “I’m glad you two worked out your differences. I was beginning to fear I’d made a wretched mistake.”
“Yes— Wait… What sort of mistake?” Bella asked.
“Oh, I urged Benedict to invite West. I knew from the moment I saw you two that there was something there. I knew if you only had the opportunity to spend time alone—without the grievous injuries—well, I hoped you would find your way to each other.”
A laugh bubbled its way up from the depths of West’s chest.
“I’m sorry, are you saying that you orchestrated all of this?” Bella demanded.
Eliza smiled and tipped her head to one side in acknowledgment.
“Were you truly unwell?” Bella asked.
“I did feel poorly, of course. But I may have… embellished a little.” She held up her thumb and forefinger in demonstration.
“Are you suggesting that I planted all these flowers, built all these booths, and painted all these signs at your behest while you were perfectly capable of doing so?”
“I did quite a lot of that planting, and building, and painting, darling.” West interjected.
Both women ignored him.
“For the greater good,” Eliza insisted. “But if you feel the need to be cross about it, we can consider ourselves even. You tried to have me ruined, after all.”
Bella blinked slowly for a moment before a reluctant smile bloomed across her cheeks. “Well struck. You are a devious one. Apparently the Sinclair name is not wasted on you, after all.”
Eliza glanced behind them, eyes widening at the sight.
“Oh, my sister and her husband have arrived! I wasn’t certain she would make it in time.
” She reached for the basket hanging off Bella’s arm.
“Unfortunately, Benedict and I shall be very busy entertaining our guests for the next several hours… Much too busy to wonder where specific people have wandered off to or to go looking for them.”
West’s brow furrowed as Bella nodded. “Understood. We’ll be… showing the villagers the stables. So there’s absolutely no reason to look for us.”
Eliza leaned forward and squeezed Bella’s arm. “See you at breakfast,” she whispered.
Understanding finally dawned on West as Eliza backed away and called for her husband. Once he was certain Ben was occupied, West turned and tugged Bella toward the woodland beyond the stables.
He guided her with an unnecessary hand across her back as they navigated the tamped-down path. This trail had seen more use in the last three weeks than in the three decades before.
At last, they reached the clearing, Bella’s laugh clear as a bell in the sunshine as she twirled to face him. West reached up to straighten her flower crown, basking in her joy.
“I have you,” he murmured.
“Yes, you do. Forever,” she agreed. Clever fingers caught his, drawing them to wrap around her waist before hers slid around his frame. “I cannot wait.”
The End