44. Epilogue

Epilogue

J ames surveyed the charred remains of his ancestral home, a mixture of emotions churning within him. The acrid smell of smoke still lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of damp timber and scorched stone. Yet, as he stood amidst the rubble, an unexpected sense of optimism blossomed in his chest.

"It's not as bad as I feared," he murmured, running a calloused hand along a blackened beam. The structure had held firm, a testament to the craftsmanship of generations past. Already, workers bustled about, clearing debris and shoring up weakened sections.

James caught sight of Evelyn across the courtyard. Her hair was gleaming in the morning sun as she directed a group of maids salvaging what they could from the East Wing. A smile tugged at his lips. She'd proven herself more resilient than he could have imagined, her strength shining through in the face of adversity.

As he picked his way through the ruins of the great hall, James found himself envisioning the future. The walls would rise again, stronger than before. The rooms would be filled with laughter once more, not just of his daughters, but of the family he and Evelyn would build together.

"We'll make it grander than ever, my lord," his steward said, appearing at his side with a sheaf of papers. "The insurance will cover most of the repairs, and I've already contacted the best craftsmen in the county."

James nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Good. But let's not simply recreate what was lost. This is our chance to make improvements, to build something that will serve us well for generations to come."

He turned, taking in the full scope of the damage and the flurry of activity around him. It struck him then that this disaster, terrible as it was, had brought his household together in a way he'd never seen before. Servants and tenants alike had rallied to save what they could, working through the night alongside him and Evelyn.

"It's a new beginning," James said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "For all of us."

As if she felt his gaze upon her, Evelyn turned and met James's eyes across the courtyard. Her face, smudged with soot, broke into a warm smile that made his heart skip a beat. She excused herself from the maids and made her way towards him, picking her way carefully through the debris.

James watched her approach, marvelling at how she managed to look both bedraggled and utterly enchanting at the same time. Her hair was coming loose from its pins, and her dress was blackened with soot at the hem, yet she moved with a grace that belied the chaos surrounding them.

"Well, my lord," Evelyn said as she reached him. Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I suppose no one can say it's improper for me to be married from your house now, as we no longer have one."

James couldn't help but grin at her jest, feeling a surge of affection for this woman who could find humour even in the aftermath of disaster. "I believe you're mistaken, my dear," he replied, his voice warm with amusement. "You're the only one of us who actually has a house right now."

Evelyn's eyes widened, and her face lit up with sudden realisation. "Oh! The cottage!" she exclaimed, as if she'd completely forgotten about the property he'd gifted her. "I can't believe it slipped my mind."

James chuckled, reaching out to brush a smudge of ash from her cheek. "Perhaps we should move our wedding plans there," he suggested, only half in jest. "It would certainly be cosier than this pile of rubble. Or camping beneath canvas," he added, with a pointed look.

"My lord, I cannot believe you would even hint at our living together in sin before we're wed!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heart in feigned outrage.

James felt a warmth spread through his chest at Evelyn's mock indignation. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, belying her scandalised tone. He couldn't help but smile, relishing this playful side of her that had emerged in recent days. "Fear not, my dear," he said, his voice low and tinged with amusement. "I've applied for a special licence, given everything that's happened."

Evelyn's face softened, her pretence falling away. "Oh, James," she said, using his given name in a rare moment of intimacy. "That's wonderful. You know, I've been married before, and I don't want a big society wedding. I just want to be your wife."

James felt his breath catch in his throat. He reached out, taking her hands in his, marvelling at how small and delicate they felt in his rough, calloused palms. "Are you certain?" he asked, searching her face. "Would that truly make you happy?"

Evelyn's eyes met his, steady and sure. "I'd marry you under an apple tree in a potato sack," she declared, her voice filled with conviction. "None of that matters to me anymore. I know what's really important now." She turned to smile warmly at Julia and Augusta, who were engaged in a moment of playfulness. Against all odds, the rubber ball had survived the fire, and they were busy chasing it across the grass.

James felt a surge of emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed him. He had never imagined finding such happiness again, especially not with someone who understood him so completely. Without a word, he pulled Evelyn into his arms, holding her close as if he could shield her from all the world's troubles.

James watched Evelyn's face carefully, his heart swelling with affection. He couldn't quite believe how fortunate he was to have found such a remarkable woman, one who valued the same things he did.

"Are you certain you don't want anyone there when we marry?" he asked gently, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "Not even a single soul to witness our happiness?"

Evelyn's brow furrowed slightly as she considered his question. James found himself holding his breath, realising how much he wanted to share this moment with those closest to them. After a moment, a warm smile spread across Evelyn's face, lighting up her eyes in a way that never failed to captivate him.

"Well," she said, her voice soft and thoughtful, "perhaps there is one person I'd like to have there. Someone to whom I owe all of my happiness."

James felt a flicker of curiosity. Who could she mean? He'd assumed her family connections were limited, given what he knew of her past. Could there be someone from her previous life she wanted to include?

"Oh?" he prompted, trying to keep his tone light and free of the sudden anxiety that gripped him. "And who might that be?"