Epilogue
Five years later – London
“Land ho!” Their littlest sailor shouted from atop his father’s shoulders. Maisy couldn’t help but smile. And not only because she was looking forward to having her feet on solid ground for a little while.
Watching their son and her husband together was more than Maisy had ever hoped to have in her life. And soon, their family would grow again. It was early days, but after this stop in London, they would sail for home until after the birth of their second child.
She missed her brother. Jack and his new wife were seeing to the castle while Maisy and Freddie sailed to the Indies with Captain Iain.
Once anchors were landed, the men began working to move the cargo from the holds. Meanwhile, Maisy took Freddie to Kesson House where they would be spending the evening.
A carriage pulled up to the dock. As they came closer, Maisy saw the Kesson crest emblazoned on the door. Her husband had taken to running the earldom in addition to his small fleet of ships.
“I am ready for home,” Maisy told her husband as he settled in the carriage next to her and Freddie.
“I hope you have enough energy for a stop on our way.”
“A stop?”
“Aye. You’ll see.”
Maisy’s curiosity assuaged her fatigue. She tried a few times to sneak a peek out the window, only to have Iain laugh and stop her.
“You’ll see,” he repeated and then kissed her on the neck in that place she loved. The distraction worked and only a few minutes later the carriage stopped.
Iain jumped out and held up his hand to help her down.
“It’s time I show Freddie how to place a winning bet,” Iain joked as he took the lad onto his hip and placed his hand at her waist. She looked up and realized they were at The Lyon’s Den.
The large guards at the door smiled and stepped aside, allowing them to enter. Inside, one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s wolves guided them up the stairs as if they were expected guests.
“Did you tell her we were coming?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t know.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon seemed to know all.
All these years later, the woman still dressed as a widow.
“Ah, Captain Douglas, and Lady Kesson. It is good to see you. Who is this?”
“I am Frederick Iain Lyon Douglas, my lady,” Freddie said formally and offered the cutest bow. The Widow of Whitehall still wore her thick veil, but the way it shook made Maisy think the woman was laughing. Or perhaps crying with the sentiment of having her name given to their child.
When she spoke there was no hint of either in her voice. She was as stern and steady as ever.
“It seems your marriage of convenience has deviated from the plan.”
“It has. In the best of ways,” Iain said, pulling Maisy closer. “I can’t help but think you knew exactly how this would turn out.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon inclined her veiled head.
“I usually do.”