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Noah could barely feel the passage of two entire years, and yet, so much had happened.
From the terrace at Blackmere, he stood in quiet contentment, his hands folded behind his back as he looked down over the gardens.
The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a mellow glow: the gilding, the roses, the trellises heavy with climbing blooms, and the long table where Grace presided over her monthly tea gathering.
How different the sight was now, compared to the fearful secrecy that had once shrouded those afternoons.
There was no whisper of danger, no sense of watching shadows, only laughter, gentle conversation, and the peace of women free to share their minds without shame.
At the heart of it all sat Grace. His Grace.
Her dark curls glimmered in the sun, her gown of pale blue catching the light as she held their infant son cradled against her shoulder. Little William stirred softly in her arms, round-cheeked and content, while his tiny fist curled into the fabric of her bodice.
Horatia sat proudly at her mother’s side, her eight years written in every confident gesture and radiant smile. She leaned over her baby brother, gently stroking his hand, her voice sweet as she sang one of the simple lullabies Grace had once taught her.
The baby’s eyes blinked open, gazing up at her with wide wonder, and Horatia giggled before continuing her song, more softly now, as though to coax him into dreams.
Noah’s chest tightened with a feeling so deep he scarcely had words for it. Once, his life had been marked by silence, retreat, and the ache of betrayal. Now that silence had been filled, first by Grace’s laughter, then by Horatia’s chatter, and now by the coos and cries of their son. The family he had never thought to deserve stood before him, complete, vibrant, and whole.
The women of Grace’s circle sat beneath the flowering arbour, their teacups gleaming in the sun, while papers and ribbons lay spread before them.
Mrs Lucy Montgomery leaned back in her chair with a hearty laugh, while Miss Tabitha Lambert bent over her notes, her eyes alight with eagerness. Mrs Beatrice Miller had her cane resting against her knee, then nodded gravely at some point being made, while Mrs Diana Powell gestured with lively animation. Beside her, Mrs Margaret Hayes smiled serenely, her hand resting on a folded sheet of verse.
Noah caught the drift of their conversation as it floated up to him.
“I declare, Lucy,” Mrs Powell said, “if your verses make me cry again, I shall accuse you of cruelty.”
Mrs Montgomery laughed, tapping the edge of her paper. “Then I will not apologize, for tears are the truest tribute.”
“I have something new today,” Miss Lambert chimed in, her voice bubbling with excitement. “An ode to liberty. To speak as one chooses, to be heard without censure, that is the finest freedom.”
Mrs Hayes added gently, “And to share it among friends, without fear, is a gift beyond measure.”
Noah’s gaze slid back to Grace, seated at the centre of it all with William nestled contentedly in her arms. Horatia leaned against her, proudly crooning one of her mother’s songs to the baby, while the circle of women looked on with warmth and admiration.
Grace presided with quiet radiance, for she was once a woman burdened by secrecy, and now a figure of inspiration, her mind and heart fully celebrated.
On the far side of the arbour, Arthur sat cheerfully among the ladies, with Rose Baxter, who was now his betrothed, at his side. She was a gentle young woman with bright eyes and a quick wit, a sister to the village vicar, and, to Noah’s amusement, she had been introduced to Arthur through these very gatherings.
Arthur, for his part, looked more content than Noah had ever seen him. While Rose conversed easily with Mrs Hayes about the latest verses read aloud. Arthur now had little William balanced upon his knee, his large hands surprisingly deft at the game of peek-a-boo.
Each time he lowered and raised a folded handkerchief, the baby’s delighted gurgle made the whole group laugh.
“I daresay, Mr Morton,” Mrs Montgomery teased, “you may prove a better nursery-maid than a poet.”
“Not at all,” Rose interjected warmly, her smile soft. “He is both poet and playmate.”
Arthur bowed his head with exaggerated solemnity, though his eyes danced. “If I have learned anything from this circle, it is that poetry and play are closer cousins than one would think.”
The women laughed, and Mrs Powell clapped her hands in approval. “Well said, Mr Morton! A man who can discuss verse while amusing a babe is a rarity indeed.”
Noah leaned against the balustrade, watching the scene unfold with quiet pride. His brother, once so eager for mischief, had found a partner as well. And it was fitting, somehow, that it had happened here, in the circle that had once been a source of fear and secrecy and was now a wellspring of joy and connection.
Beyond the arbour, the Hayes family added their own brightness to the afternoon. Dr and Mrs Hayes sat together, their hands clasped as they beamed at the sight of their grandchildren now tumbling across the grass with Horatia. The children’s laughter mingled with her delighted squeals as she led them in a game of chase.
Noah’s heart warmed at the sight. The Hayes couple had been steadfast allies through every trial, and now they reaped their own joy in a family flourishing around them. Their daughter, married into a respectable household in the next county, visited often with her young brood, an extension of the Hayes’ kindness that now entwined seamlessly with Grace’s circle of friends.
Closer at hand, Mrs Godwin moved among the company with her usual gentle authority. She carried a tray to replenish cups here, adjusted a shawl there, her keen eyes missing nothing. Yet even in her bustling, her gaze strayed again and again to the children, particularly to little William in Grace’s arms.
The fond smile that softened her features revealed the truth: she was not merely a companion now, nor only a nurse, but family. Devoted, vigilant, loving, an anchor as much to Noah as to Grace.
“More tea, Mrs Miller?” she asked briskly, yet with kindness. Then, as William stirred and gave a tiny cry, she was at Grace’s side at once, cooing softly and smoothing his curls until he settled again.
He breathed deeply, his chest full of a quiet gratitude that seemed too vast to name. This house, which was once shadowed by grief and solitude, had become a haven. Within its walls, minds were free to meet without fear, women’s voices rose in verse and discourse, and friendships flourished untainted by pretence.
Here, Grace’s poetry was not merely permitted but celebrated, and her words were cherished as reflections of her spirit.
Horatia, so bright and curious, thrived in this atmosphere and had become an accomplished young lady already, yet still tender-hearted, having become a sister whose every gesture spoke of devotion.
And William, their son, would grow beneath the shelter of this love, surrounded by books and music, laughter and learning, and the unshakable knowledge that true affection could weather any storm.
For a fleeting moment, as he watched Grace’s laughter ripple among her friends, Noah’s thoughts strayed to the darker paths that had led them here. Justice, at last, had been done.
The man who had sought to shatter their lives languished in prison, convicted of embezzlement and conspiracy. His lands and holdings had been seized to repay what he had stolen, restoring to Grace the wealth that was rightfully hers. There would be no return for him. His name, once spoken with respect, had become synonymous with treachery.
Vivianne, too, returned to his mind. Her beauty and charm had once been his weakness, the blade that had driven him into solitude. Yet when her schemes crumbled in the light of truth, her carefully constructed world collapsed with it. Noah could picture her still, her hazel eyes flashing with defiance even as scandal closed in, but she had fled England with her reputation in tatters.
There would be no drawing rooms for her, no admiring audience for her practised airs … only exile, disgrace, and the bitterness of her own undoing.
And Damien Cross … Noah almost pitied him, had he not so nearly succeeded in bringing Grace to ruin. His false lineage, his fraudulent claims, his vile conspiracy, all laid bare before the law. Imprisonment awaited him, and with it, the knowledge that he would never again set foot among the ranks of respectable men.
His infatuation, his betrayal, and his cowardice had made him the perfect pawn, and he had been discarded by the very woman he sought to please.
Noah breathed out slowly, letting those shadows slip away. Once, they had been enemies fierce enough to imperil everything he held dear. Now they were no more than warnings, testaments to the strength it had taken to reach this peace. What had been meant to destroy them had instead drawn them closer, binding their fates together with cords of loyalty and love.
From his place on the terrace, Noah’s gaze lingered on Grace as she soothed their son. The sight alone would have been enough to fill his heart, yet when she looked up, her eyes seeking his across the garden, something deeper stirred within him.
Their gazes locked, and the noise of the gathering seemed to fall away. He could no longer hear the bright chatter of the poetry circle, the laughter of children at play, or even Arthur’s jovial teasing fading into the distance. For that one quiet moment, there was only her.
She smiled, more radiant than he had ever seen her before, and in it he read all that words could never hold: gratitude for the path they had walked, joy for the peace they now possessed, and love that bound them forever.
His own smile rose in answer: We are here. We are safe. We are free.
Surrounded by friends who cherished them, with Horatia’s laughter in the air and William nestled securely in Grace’s arms, Noah felt the fullness of a life he once only dreamed of.
And in that simple exchange of smiles, he knew: this was perfect happiness.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Delightful Dukes and Damsels", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hello, my beloved readers. I hope you had a great time reading my book and the extended epilogue. I can’t wait to read your comments! 😊