Epilogue

He looked up at the thousands and thousands of graves, both marked and unmarked. Be at peace. He raised his hand to give a salute but cut it off as his hand shook . For a moment, he was overcome with grief, with pangs of guilt for his luck in surviving when they did not. Then he sensed Elena taking his hand and felt the golden warmth that gave meaning to his existence run up his arm and fill his entire chest, and he didn't regret surviving. He was only sorry that so many had died, and so many not even in battle but from disease. He silently thanked Mrs. Raeburn, Elena, and even old Dr. Austin for doing all they could to ensure fellows like him survived.

The air felt heavy, and David wondered if death was in the air or if it was from the humidity of being near a body of water. Likely both.

They stood there for what could have been a minute or what could have been an hour, Elena understanding without speaking that he was too overcome to say anything. Eventually, he felt a small squeeze of her hand, and they began to walk along the river.

They had arrived in Scutari the previous day after a lengthy stay in Bucharest with Elena's family. The entire family had burst into tears upon seeing each other, and they discovered her family had not disowned her but had thought her killed in the chaos of the invasion. The family had taken what they could and fled, staying with distant relatives of neighbors in Constantinople. Elena's father had eventually been able to reestablish himself as a textile merchant in Bucharest, again thanks to some of their former neighbors. He and Elena's oldest sister were the only ones who spoke or understood any English, so he and Elena translated for the rest of the family. During their stay, her father often regaled David with tales of his many adventures and exploits of his youth, which Elena later explained, and David guessed, were greatly exaggerated. While her father told his stories in English, Elena's mother and grandmother looked David over with judgmental but ultimately accepting scowls. Elena was only too happy to hear her father's old stories again, encouraging him in his tales well into the night.

They left Bucharest with the promise of many future visits. David had invited the family to visit or stay in England, but Elena's father had gestured to his decidedly non-English clothing and hat and shook his head, saying it was too far, and he knew too little of life there. Elena was disappointed because she had wanted them to see the hospital, but she said she understood and accepted her father's position.

Over the days he spent with them, David came to realize that Elena's family was more interested in his being in trade than his title, as her father had made him explain in great detail how he imported wine and spirits into England. He smiled to himself, thinking of all the title hunters who had pestered him when his father died and he was grieving. Somehow, life had led him here, to someone who valued him for himself alone, to the point that his title was essentially meaningless to her and her family. Who were now his family, he supposed. For so long it had only been him and Irene and Sophie. It was rather nice to add more family members to the equation.

As he left her with Sophie to work on plans for her school, David had promised Irene that she could come on future visits, though he did not know when that would be. From Elena's father, he had heard that the political tides were turning and that Wallachia, Moldavia, and maybe even Dobruja might soon gain independence. He hoped that the changes wouldn't prevent them from visiting, but with any luck, things would work out. Hell, he would personally sail down the Danube for Elena to see her family if that was what it took.

Coming out of his reverie, he noticed Elena looking around guardedly as they walked along the water. "Bad memories?" he asked over the distant sounds of prayer and carts rolling through the streets.

"Some." She sighed. "But this is not far from where Mrs. Raeburn found me. And that was a good memory. Honestly, I was so hungry and tired. I do not remember most of the time I spent here."

They had agreed to come to Scutari to put away demons and say goodbye to former lives. But David wanted to ensure she didn't come just for his sake. "I have something for you," he said. As she cocked her head, he shifted his cane and pulled out a small velvet pouch from his pocket, which he slipped into her hands. Furrowing her brow, she carefully opened the purse, drawing out a golden chain.

"My grandmother's necklace? How did you find this?"

"A gentleman never tells his ways."

"I thought that was a lady." He saw her swallow hard as she brushed her fingers over the faded engraving on the golden cross with its two extra bars. "It was in the family for ages. I received it as the oldest daughter. When I had to part with it, it compounded my grief and shame. But you found it for me. I can't imagine all you had to go through to track it down."

"Elena, at this point in our marriage, you must know there is very little I wouldn't do just to see you smile."

She clutched the necklace to her chest, and her lips quivered for a moment. Then she took his hand, entwined it in her own, and laid it against her cheek, looking up at him.

"I do love you so, you know."

Whatever would he have done without her? Still, he couldn't help teasing her a bit. "Yes, but I love you more."

"Husband."

His heart always raced when he heard that word on her lips, and even after all this time, he still felt a perfect mix of adoration and amusement at the endearment. However, Elena looked solemn, so he tried to put on an equally serious expression.

"Yes, amora meu ."

She sighed as if torn by appreciation at his attempt at her home language and annoyance at his butchering of it. " Amorul meu ," she corrected.

He repeated the phrase, putting the emphasis where she did. "It's like Latin. I can only understand the possessives."

She tilted her head. "It may be, I do not know. But I had a request, my love." She paused as if weighing her words. "If something ever happened to my father, could my family stay with us? The world can be so cruel to women alone in this world, and I don't want my sisters to have to marry strangers."

"Like you did?" He grinned at her devilishly. Or what he hoped was devilish.

"I suppose eventually it turned out well for me."

"Eventually?" he exclaimed in mock outrage.

"You went away for years."

"I was recovering from a war wound." He brought her hand to his lips and just held it there, smiling into her skin. He would never tire of this, not if he lived to be one hundred.

"I think we are an exception. Most marriages based on a few weeks' acquaintance do not work out so well as ours. And you have not answered my question."

He could see his response weighed heavily on her soul. Elena who had been prepared to marry someone she did not love for her family's sake. Elena who would always do anything for those she loved. Which, by some miracle he never stopped thanking the universe for, now included him.

"Of course, my love. They are always welcome."

She looked up at him with such warmth and love he felt as if he could take on an army at that moment. With this trip, it was as if they had added another strand to that golden thread between them, a new piece that further entwined them and illuminated the future they were forging together. Even though they were beside a graveyard and Elena was endlessly superstitious, he took her in his arms.

"Has forever started yet?" he whispered against her skin.

"Forever isn't just a time. It has no limit. It is now and, in this moment, but is also unto ages and ages. It's all the people we've been and the promise of all the people we will become together. It's us, it's this—" She wasn't quite making sense in English, and he could tell she was growing frustrated with the limitations of translation as she sometimes did. Still, as she spoke, she began to gesture to her chest, then to his chest, as if indicating some kind of tether existed between them. His heart felt so full he couldn't speak for several moments. He hadn't imagined that golden thread between them. She had felt it, too. He was reminded of something her father had said as a blessing unto them, that love understands all languages. He took her hands, placed them over his chest, and said the two most beautiful words in any tongue.

"I understand."

The End