Epilogue

Newcastle Six Months Later

“P atience,” murmured Father, glancing at Julian from over the top of his novel, but his son wasn’t listening in the slightest. Standing at the window, he watched every passing carriage, looking for any sign that one was stopping.

That was the trouble with travel, wasn’t it? No amount of planning beforehand guaranteed an exact arrival. So many coaches were slowed by weather or malfunctions that one couldn’t always plan the time. But Haydon wasn’t far from Newcastle, and the weather had been fine of late. Surely, they would arrive soon.

Voices continued their murmured conversations behind him, and Julian tried to make the time move quicker by pacing between the two front windows, pausing before each long enough to check again that no carriage had arrived before drifting back to the other.

“I know I wasn’t this bad,” laughed Oscar, which earned him a chastising glare from their mother.

“Believe me when I say both of you were as bad as all this,” she said, glancing between her eldest and youngest.

Richard shook his head. “Not possible.”

“Hush, you two,” said Father as his daughters-in-law swept into the conversation to corral their husbands with varying degrees of success. But Julian didn’t care how much they teased him.

A traveling coach came to a stop before the front door, and he turned away, rushing through the parlor and onto the front steps just as the groom opened the door. Thomas emerged first, and though Julian was always pleased to see him, he felt like shoving the gentleman aside. Then Thomas handed down Charity with their daughter in her arms, who waved happily at him, and Julian had enough clarity of thought to acknowledge it with a wave of his own, but his gaze remained fixed on the door of the coach as Angelica emerged.

Her whole being seemed to glow as she met his gaze, her eyes such a rich shade of blue that Julian was certain he would be quite happy to stare into them the rest of his life. And without a word, those eyes sparkled at him, forever looking as though they were on the verge of a laugh or a jest as she silently stepped forward and slid her arm through his.

Clinging to it, Julian longed to welcome her in a better fashion, but with all and sundry there to witness it, he chose the better course and led them through the front door. The footmen quickly moved about their business, relieving the carriage of its trunks and the passengers of their cloaks, and whilst the others were occupied, Julian seized the opportunity and leaned in close to her cheek, pressing a quick kiss there.

Angelica gasped dramatically, her eyes feigning horror. “Are you attempting to steal a kiss, sir?”

“There was no attempting it, for I was quite successful. Besides, you cannot steal what is freely given,” he murmured into her ear. Drawing in a breath, Julian fought to keep from leaning into her; one ought not to smell quite so nice after two days of travel.

When her head turned, her brows rose in genuine chastisement. “Julian…”

“Peace,” he whispered. “As much as I would love to steal something more than a buss, I will not press the issue. You wish to wait until we are engaged, so we will, but once we step through those doors,” he said, nodding toward the parlor, “you will see that your fears are all unfounded, that my family adores you, and there is no reason not to accept my proposal.”

“You speak as though it is all a forgone conclusion,” she replied with just a hint of sauciness, though Julian felt the hesitation beneath it. Raising her free hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to that as well (for there were no such strictures placed on those tokens) and leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“They will adore you. I promise.” Any hint of teasing was gone from his voice, and Julian spoke with all the sincerity he could muster. When he leaned away once more, the strain at the edge of Angelica’s lips had softened a touch, allowing him to breathe just a little easier.

Lifting her chin, she asked with a challenging glint in her eyes, “Do you notice anything different about me?”

Startling words, to be certain. Ones that had been used from the beginning of time to trap men into acknowledging that they did not, in fact, notice the trappings of fashion and beauty as the women in their lives did. But though it was a familiar question, Julian felt no fear as he stepped back to examine his Angelica.

“You look lovely,” he said, his eyes sweeping down the length of her and enjoying the sight she made.

For all that she was travel-worn, her eyes blazed with light, filling the whole of her, and Julian couldn’t look away from her. Understated though she may be, Angelica was a sight to behold. She tried to maintain an aloof expression, but the lady’s cheeks pinked as her hands brushed down her skirts, which made him want to kiss her all the more. Though there was little need to stoke that fire, for Julian always felt that way.

“Charity took me shopping in London,” she murmured, the blush deepening—and once stated, Julian could see precisely what she meant, for the brown sack she normally favored was gone, replaced by a gown that embraced Angelica’s simple style but in a rich navy blue that highlighted her eyes and the richness of her coiffure.

“You are stunning,” he said, taking her hand in his to lift it to his lips. And just before he placed a kiss, he whispered, “As you always are.”

Thomas cleared his throat and nodded down the corridor. “Shall we?”

That snapped the pair from their stupor and helped Julian to recall the task at hand. He offered his arm, and Angelica took it, gracing him with a pleased smile. But with each step toward their destination, she stiffened, and though Julian truly felt no concern about the reception she was to receive, Angelica’s nerves made his pulse quicken. He hoped and prayed that all would go well.

*

Meeting new people was never easy, but when their opinions were of the utmost importance, it only made matters more anxious. When the gathering included those who had already espoused a poor opinion, it was a recipe for fear and strain. If not for Julian remaining firmly by her side, Angelica might have escaped back to the carriage and disappeared to Haydon.

She clung to his arm, and though her attention was fixed on the Knights as they greeted her, she couldn’t help but wonder at the blend of disappointment and pleasure that had drifted through her at Julian’s compliment. Whilst some part of her had anticipated a grand show of astonishment and marvel at the sight of her new gown, Angelica’s heart burned as she realized the truth was that he hadn’t noticed because he thought her lovely regardless of the efforts she put into her appearance.

Purchasing the gown had been a silly indulgence, but Charity’s kind (but insistent) efforts on that score had weakened Angelica’s resolve just enough for one. Then Thomas had purchased her an entire trunkful, and knowing that it altered Julian’s opinion not one jot helped to loosen the knots twisting inside her.

Glancing at her beau as he spoke animatedly with his brother, Angelica held tighter to his arm. Julian was quite worth suffering through untold amounts of misery.

But then, the Knights were not as bad as she had feared. And wasn’t that so often the case? For all that she had fretted and fussed over the visit, Mr. and Mrs. Knight were as warm and welcoming as they’d been the first time they’d met, whilst their sons and daughters-in-law greeted her and her family as though they were the dearest of friends already.

Enough so that Angelica hardly noticed when she was led away from her beau’s side as the gentlemen and ladies naturally divided themselves and their conversations veered into topics that didn’t suit the other. However, it didn’t stop her from watching Julian as he debated Thomas about the relative merits of the Briggs system of ledger keeping, which was being touted as the salvation of businessmen everywhere (though Angelica didn’t see how it was such a grand improvement over the current system).

“Miss Callaghan,” said Mrs. Knight with a smile. Nodding to the far side of the room, she asked, “Would you take a turn about the room with me?”

Goodness. This was serious, wasn’t it? A beau’s mother did not ask for a private word for no reason, and though Angelica readily accepted, Julian noticed and sent her a silent question. But she shook her head. There was no need for rescue. Not yet, at any rate.

Slowly, the ladies walked the length of the room, and Angelica was in awe at the size of it. If Stoneleigh Cottage boasted such spaces, she wouldn’t bother spending so much time exploring the moors and forests around Haydon. Not to mention the great boon it would be in the winter when one couldn’t walk as long as one wished to.

Despite having known Newcastle was a sizable city and that the Knights came from respectable money, Angelica hadn’t expected either the city or the home to be quite so impressive. If not for her visit to London and seeing many other grand buildings, she would’ve been tempted to flee back to her tiny hovel in Haydon.

“I owe you an apology,” said Mrs. Knight, breaking Angelica from her thoughts. “And I have been quite anxious to give it, though I thought it best if I do it in person rather than through post.”

“An apology?” asked Angelica with raised brows.

Stopping them in the far corner of the room, Mrs. Knight gave her a kind smile. “Do not feign ignorance, my dear. I know we were rude to you the last time we spoke, and it has bothered me greatly ever since.” The lady released her, clasping her hands before her as she faced Angelica. “We were afraid of what was becoming of our son. We knew the sway your father held over Julian, and we saw him being lured in by that lifestyle.”

“And you had every right to be concerned. I was as well,” said Angelica.

“But that doesn’t excuse the fact that we judged you without knowing you, basing our opinion on hearsay, gossip, and your family’s behavior, and I am ashamed of that,” she said with a sigh, her expression crumpling. “We ignored what you had shown us of yourself and almost missed that you weren’t Julian’s ruin. Rather, you were making him into a better man.”

A sheen of tears filled the lady’s eyes, and Angelica stiffened as her own gaze burned at the sight. Then Mrs. Knight’s arms were around her, holding her fast as she whispered, “Thank you for being the anchor he needs.”

“And thank you for raising such an incredible man,” replied Angelica. “He has blessed my life far more than I could ever bless his.”

Leaning back with a tsk, Mrs. Knight brushed at her cheeks. “Somehow, I do not think that is true, but I love you all the more for believing it.”

Angelica didn’t know what to say to such a thing, but she didn’t have time to sort it out, for the next moment, Mrs. Knight was waving to her son, who hurried over without hesitation. His arm slid around Angelica’s waist, making her blush but drawing a smile from his mother as she waved him toward the door.

“I think you ought to show our Miss Callaghan the garden,” she said. “It is quite lovely this time of year.”

Our Miss Callaghan. Such a little word to add to her name, yet it held such power, and Angelica felt it course through her, bringing with it a warmth that burned through her like a torch. Reaching out, she squeezed Mrs. Knight’s hand, though Julian quickly pulled her away, maneuvering her toward the corridor.

With the sunshine burning bright, there was no need for cloaks, and Julian hurried her toward the back of the building and out onto a courtyard that extended behind the house. Flagstone provided a patio for promenading, but the stones petered out into grass and shrubbery with large trellises covered in flowering vines stretching over the planting beds, which were all in bloom. Sweet floral fragrances filled her nose, and Angelica couldn’t help but marvel at the bit of paradise hidden away in the city.

But before she could revel in it, Julian’s arms were around her, his joy so palpable that her own grew exponentially.

“I told you they would love you. Elizabeth and Betsy are already planning several shopping trips whilst you are here, and Mama is going to be parading you about town. Father keeps asking about wedding dates, and my brothers—” He paused. “They are best ignored.”

Leaning back, Julian settled his arms at her waist, his eyes pleading as he stared into hers. “Please marry me, Angelica. I was certain within the first month of our courtship, and I do not know if I can wait any longer.”

Angelica couldn’t help but stare at the fellow. The words were no different than those he’d written dozens of times before, yet they never failed to surprise her. Julian Knight was desperate for her. After so many years of despising the entire thought of romance, her heart was doing great vaulting somersaults in her chest at the feel of him so near.

He stood there, eagerly awaiting her answer, looking as though he very well might expire if she were to deny him. And at that moment, Angelica couldn’t see why she’d waited so long to accept.

*

One couldn’t die from desperation, could one? Though there were many unexplained medical phenomena, Julian knew it wasn’t a possibility, yet standing there as Angelica gazed at him with those bewitching eyes, he was certain his heart was going to burst from his chest.

But as much as he teased and twitted her, he didn’t begrudge Angelica even a single moment of caution. With her history, it was a wonder she was willing to risk her heart at all, and he wasn’t going to rush her into anything before she was ready—

Angelica’s lips touched his, the movement coming so quickly that he was certain he’d imagined it. But no, she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him tighter to her. This was happening! And for all that Julian had exercised caution throughout their courtship, the feel of her lips against his erased all good sense, and he fell headfirst into the embrace, pouring all the need and longing he’d felt for the past six months into that moment.

If it startled her, Angelica gave no sign of hesitation, meeting his desire with her own and proving she was not as cold and passionless as she claimed to be. But this was more than mere satiation; Julian couldn’t imagine sharing such a moment with any other woman, for none could compare to the lady who knew him so well.

His Angelica.

*

Though Angelica avoided thinking of her sister for the most part—and she most definitely did not want to think of Guinevere in such a moment—she couldn’t help but note that she now understood the temptation her sister had faced. Why Helen and Viviane were so quick to make eyes at gentlemen. Why Emily had gladly followed the army on its march through Spain. Goodness, Angelica wouldn’t have made it to spinsterhood had she known just how appealing a man could be.

Yet she knew that wasn’t true. This was Julian. Her Julian. The man who cared about her body and soul. Who loved her more than himself. Who treated her with respect and honor. No amount of physical gratification could compete with the feeling of it being his arms that held her close, his lips on hers.

And as she lost herself in the embrace, Angelica knew she’d been a fool for waiting so long. She wasn’t some silly young girl who prized attraction over strength of character, and she’d known from the beginning just how strong Julian’s was. She poured all that certainty into her touch, giving him an answer that was far more thorough than words could ever manage.

At that moment, she knew she wasn’t returning to Haydon. They had waited long enough.

Yet when they parted, and whilst Julian was still catching his breath, he looked at her with sparkling eyes and asked, “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

Lips curling into a wry smile, Angelica kissed him once more.