Epilogue

Irene alighted from her horse and led it towards a nearby tree. Usually, she would be worried about bandits and children pranksters, but this environment was different. It was quiet and distant from the town itself. Nothing could be heard for miles except a babbling brook nearby and chirping birds. Her eyes searched the area even more properly after letting her horse graze on the nearby pasture. A cottage stood only a few steps ahead of her. The entrance was lined with stones washed white, and each side was decorated with blooming flowers. While the sound of the river running in the background grew clearer as she moved closer, she couldn't see it. She removed her hood to reveal her shiny silver hair and let the fresh breeze run through it. She shut her eyes tight for a few seconds to take in the atmosphere. This place was different. It was quaint cozy. It was comforting.

She walked towards the cottage, her grip tight on her bag of supplies as usual. She got close to the door and knocked gently. As she awaited a reply, her eyes swept the surrounding one more time. The cottage was not too big or too small. For a family of just two, it seemed just perfect.

The door creaked open, and Weston's worried face appeared.

"Thank you for coming."

"I might have to charge you extra, my lord." Irene replied, a smile playing on her face. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom. I do not know what happened, but she might be able to explain better to you."

Irene nodded and walked in, the smell of fresh flowers penetrating her nostrils with each step. Weston led her to the bedroom, and there, on the bed, was Juliet, her eyes narrowed and her hands placed on her sides.

"I told him this was only a fever. It will pass." Juliet said, her eyes widening as Irene walked in.

"He was right to have called me. You never know these days." Irene replied. She sat on the bed beside Juliet and started to feel her body's warmth.

"Tell me exactly what happened. Do not leave anything out." Irene said, the back of her right hand traveling from Juliet's forehead to her neck.

Juliet sighed. "Is that really necessary?"

"Do what the woman says, Juliet. She is here for you." Weston called from the doorway, his hands folded against his chest.

Juliet rolled her eyes in retort. Sometimes, her husband doted on her just a little too much. "Fine." She turned to look at Irene.

I was out this morning, looking over my flowers as usual—"

***

It had been almost six months since Juliet and Weston decided to leave behind the manor and the politics that came with it and retire to Weston's cottage on the Scottish border. Of course, Beatrice had a giant problem with it.

"Who will become the Marquess in your absence? This is unprecedented. There is no male heir." She had asked her son after he'd informed her of his plans.

Weston had turned to Anne, who stood in the corner. "She can do it."

"Don't be ridiculous. She's a woman." Beatrice had commented almost immediately.

"A woman who happens to be my sister. Do not underestimate Anne. She is as brilliant as they come. She can become a Marchioness and hold down the fort for the next male heir to come along. That is if she decides not to get married."

"Of course, she will get married." Beatrice had retorted. "Are you sure about this decision? You are going to be leaving the manor forever."

"Well, not exactly forever. I will still come back here with Juliet occasionally. I just do not want the responsibility anymore. I never have." Weston had explained.

Beatrice wasn't the happiest with this piece of information, but there was only so little she could do.

When Juliet told Estelle about her plans to leave as well, Estelle had planned to come with her, just as usual, but Juliet had refused.

"What are you talking about?" Estelle had asked, staring anxiously at Juliet when she said no to her offer.

"You've spent too much time with me, Estelle, and I am grateful for that. You are one of the main reasons I am still alive today, and I want you to know that."

"So let me come with you so I can keep saving you."

Juliet had reached for her maid's hands. "I do not want you to keep serving me."

Estelle had grown confused. "Why?"

"Because you deserve better. I know you have had your eye on Lord Charles for a while now."

"Milady—"

"And I know for a fact that he likes you too. I need to set you free so you can explore other parts of your life. We will remain friends, and you can always come to visit me. But I have to walk the next phase of this journey alone. You and I have come so far. It is time you find your own journey, too."

Estelle had stared at her own hands, the idea of her newfound freedom scaring her to her core. "What am I to do now?"

"Go and talk to Lord Charles. I know it is the norm to wait for the man to make the first move, but it is important you do this. Perhaps this will put an end to the unspoken words between you two."

Estelle had stared at Juliet in dazed confusion. Was her mistress going insane?

A few weeks later, Juliet and Weston left the manor fully for their newfound life on the border. The cottage was everything Juliet could have hoped for. It tied her to nature and everything it had to offer. They both started their blossoming marriage in the cottage, enjoying life one after the other. Weston still went to his meetings with friends, but now, he was freer. Juliet visited her Aunt Grace occasionally, and Aunt Grace returned the favor. She started to grow flowers around the house, loving the sense of control it gave her overall. For the next six months, they would make the house into their own personal haven and grow into it like the happy couple they were originally meant to be.

At least until that morning. Juliet had woken up and had gone about her duty, tending to the flowers and the new budding trees she was getting to grow. She had leaned down to grab a piece of fruit when her eyes darkened, and she grew dizzy. She stood back up and shook it off, thinking it was only a mild head rush. However, on her way to the house, the dizziness had reappeared, this time even more overwhelming. Juliet did not know when her fruit basket slipped off her hands as she felt herself crash into the ground, going unconscious.

Weston had found her a while later and had grown terribly worried. His worry did not wane when she woke up either, and before she could stop him, he had sent word to the only good physician he knew and trusted—Irene.

***

Irene nodded gently, her eyes narrowed. "And that was all that happened? You are not leaving anything out?"

Juliet nodded. "Yes."

Irene examined Juliet's forehead once again. Juliet wondered what she was searching for but didn't bother about it for long. Irene's eyes traveled to Juliet's hands. She inspected her fingernails and knuckles. Her eyes finally settled on Juliet's tummy, and a broad smile appeared on her face.

"It looks like you might need to send word to your dressmaker. These ones will not fit you anymore."

Juliet's face was drained of color. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the last time you got your monthly visitor?"

"What?"

"Your period, my lady."

And then the wave of understanding hit her. Her eyes widened, and she turned to look at Weston, then Irene.

"Are you saying I am—"

"It looks like it." Irene explained. "Of course, there are now things you need to start eating more of and less of. I shall explain all of that in a moment.

Juliet turned to her husband, the expression on her face instinctively turning to elation. "Do you hear, Weston? She says I'm pregnant!?"

Weston stared at her in shock. "What?"

"You are going to be a father."

He rushed to Juliet's bedside and wrapped her in a warm hug. Irene smiled.

"Immense congratulations are in order, Lord Weston."

Weston turned to Irene, his grateful eyes returning her smile. "Thank you Irene."

Irene nodded. "Now about the fee—"

Intense laughter seared from every corner of the room, with Irene joining in as well.

The End