Epilogue

20 August 1886, Devon

It was just like Honiton lace, as she'd imagined. In the little dip between trees was nestled a pretty, fronded fern. Emily nudged aside a branch and pointed. "Look, Charlotte."

"Ooo." Her daughter peered over her shoulder at the fern. "Is that the affy fern?"

"Yes, I think it is." After all this time. Dryopteris affinis.

"William, please stop that." Oscar's voice came from behind them. "Or I will tickle you."

There was a beat.

"I warned you." A screech of laughter from her young son followed that pronouncement.

"Can we have it, Mama?" Charlotte looked up at her, golden curls framing her face and eyes bright.

"We'll take only one of the plants, leaving the rest to grow strong here."

With careful digging, they extracted the smallest of the ferns and placed it in the basket, already prepared with soil and moss for this purpose. Emily carried the precious fern back to Oscar, who was chasing William with comically exaggerated paces at a very slow pace to account for his six-year-old speed.

He grinned when he caught her eye and a burst of happiness went through her. "Look." She held out the basket.

Oscar gave up the chase and came over, kissing her lingeringly before he leaned over and glanced into the basket. "It's very nice." Then he looked again. "That's affy fern." His voice held a wonder. His blue gaze met hers, so deep she fell into his eyes anew each time they made love.

She nodded. "Yes."

"After a decade. You finally have your fern." He squeezed her hand. He knew how much it meant to her.

But then, it wasn't as if she'd searched for it hard since they'd met. Other things had been more important. The Lady Hunters had become more of a social debating society with annual fern walks than a pteridology society. They'd had daily horse rides together, reckless chases years ago and more recently as a family with Charlotte on her own pony and William riding with Oscar. And of course, bringing up their children was now their main occupation.

"After a decade, The Contagious Diseases Act has been repealed." Finally. They'd almost given up hope of sense prevailing. "It's the year for it."

"If you'd told me we'd have a ten-year-old child by the time either of us had achieved our goal..." He shook his head.

"We wouldn't have done anything differently." She wouldn't have her life, with Oscar and the children, any other way.

"Probably." He huffed with amused agreement. "Don't worry, there's more to do."

"Daddy, daddy!" Charlotte emerged from where she'd been examining the remaining ferns. "We found the affy fern!" She ran and threw herself into Oscar's arms in a flurry of skirts.

"Really?!" He caught her and spun her around until she squealed with delight.

"Can we go for afternoon tea now?" William asked, coming up to Emily and poking impatiently at her basket.

"Of course. It's time." She nodded to Oscar and they turned and walked back towards the waiting carriage.

"Charlotte, I don't think I've ever told you that you were born—" Oscar began.

"Exactly a year after your mother and I met and fell in love," Charlotte chimed in a bored sing-song voice.

Oscar laughed delightedly.

"Well, we fell, at least," Emily said. "But I remember it happening differently to that."

He winked at her broadly. "Never let the truth get in the way of a good romance."

***