Epilogue I - April 1814

Epilogue I - April 1814

The twins returned to school in a week.

Thanks to groveling—Warrick’s and thoroughly touching letters each boy had penned (with Aphrodite’s guidance)— and sizable donations—these, thanks to Ed and Frost—King and Knight had only suffered only missing one full term.

Which meant they would all be here for Easter services tomorrow. But more than that, what caused Warrick measures of both sadness and anticipation, as he checked his cravat in the hand mirror before placing it on the table beside his bed and reaching for his boot, was this morning’s family jaunt.

’Twas April 9 th . One year since Mama’s passing.

He blinked fast as one boot blurred, tugging it on after dismissing Shieldings’ help for the morn. He needed to do this himself. For his family.

His eyes glanced around the chamber he shared with his wife of two and a half months, the bed, dresser and bedside tables crowded by the addition of his upstairs ambulatory chair and a couple of other wooden ones strong enough to support his weight.

It was the feminine touches that helped dry his eyes and buffet his aching heart. The marigolds she’d coaxed to an early bloom in a vase beside his shaving kit. The prime fan he’d given her as a wedding gift. The ornate hairbrush from her (still favored) “uncle” Silas sitting beside the old scribbled-in Bible one of her “new” aunts had sent her, it having belonged to her mother. That handkerchief, long ago snaffled during a mistletoe kiss, folded neatly and tucked inside; the other having been returned to Ed’s wife, Lady Anne (who had taken surprisingly well to the news that her sister’s governess would soon outrank her, aided likely by Harri’s jubilance).

Married since the end of January, thanks to the simple ceremony conducted as soon the banns had been read, enough to bind them for life.

The banns. Suffering them to be called out each Sunday for three weeks? Casting glances over his shoulder, not quite certain whether Satan’s spawn would make an unexpected appearance and protest…

But Arbuckle remained silent, as far as any complaints or grievances toward Warrick. As to his niece? He remained close, all that was complimentary, had even turned his disparaging remarks toward Warrick aside—after sweet Prim started engaging in some glaring of her own.

Now that the surgeon stepped out with Lady Redford, no more hiding in Bath, he was frequently seen at gatherings when they went to Redford Hall.

And if Lady Ballenger had sniffed her disapproval on the rare occasions they crossed paths? Then the joy conveyed by Harriet’s continual, bounding enthusiasm over the “romance of the ages” along with her father’s clap on Warrick’s shoulder (and the whispered “Found yourself a good woman, congratulations.”) far surpassed any hurts the other woman’s negativity thought to aim their way.

His second boot bumped into place over his heel with a slight jerk. Placing both feet solidly in front of him, Warrick leaned forward to retrieve his chair, his eyes landing on the small package delivered yesterday, not yet opened but something to look forward to.

For, according to the note attached, Mercury had finally revealed his hiding spot, and not only had Arbuckle’s favorite hat been found (though why that had been included in the note, Warrick wasn’t sure) but (and these were the parts he smiled over) Warrick would soon be reunited with his missing neckcloth, a lone sock, his drawers (unrepentantly ripped), portions of two unposted letters (also ripped) and three canine-chewed pencils. (Oh, joy.)

He rolled the chair into place and made sure it was secure before shifting his weight. He knew better than to “walk” much today, not if he had any hope of making it, with cane and Aphrodite’s assistance, from the carriage to Mama’s headstone.

Just as he gained his seat, Aphrodite swept in, looking uncharacteristically frayed. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were already downstairs. In the carriage and waiting for me.”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “You know better than that. Who— Ah. Sophia?”

Nodding, she approached, retrieved his cane from beside the bed and then moved to tug on her gloves, her features smoothing into their more customary sereneness as she realized she wasn’t delaying anyone. “Indeed. Is still more than a little miffed we didn’t let her go with Cook and son to the coast.”

Ridiculous. He didn’t care how divine the woman cooked nor how well behaved her son, his sister was not about to be apart from the family today. Not about to travel willy-nilly without Aphrodite or himself. “So she told you I was outside?”

“Not…explicitly. But implied you and the boys were both waiting, impatient for me in the carriage.”

“The minx. Lines for her! And Julia?” Who still wasn’t talking—much. As in, if she gave him a two-word sentence in a week, ’twas cause for celebration.

“Awaits by the door, eager to go outside and bobbing in place.” Aphrodite came near his ear, lowered her voice. “But she left her blanket on her bed again.”

“Progress!” He laughed. “But, Prim, she’s not about to hear you. No need to whisper.”

“I just want to take care.” She gave the open door behind her a guilty look, then anointed his recently shaved cheek with a kiss. “Are you ready?”

“With you by my side? Always.”