A Governess for the Widowed Duke – Extended Epilogue

Two Years Later…

“Slow down!” Lily called after Rosalie as she chased her down the pathway. The little girls weaved in and out of the garden, ducking behind shrubs, darting behind trees, getting lost in the excitement they often felt when playing together. “Rosalie! No fair! No fair!”

“Too slow!” Rosalie called over her shoulder.

“I tagged you!”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Mommy!” Lily burst around the corner, out of breath, her cheeks red, and anger in her eyes. “Tell Rosalie to stop cheating!”

In response to her daughter’s command, Elena widened her eyes in warning. Then she placed a finger on her lips, indicating to Lily to keep the noise down. And Lily, realizing what she had done, gasped and threw a hand over her mouth.

“Lily!” Rosalie came charging down the pathway. “What are you –” The little girl, now eight, caught sight of her sister, and she, too, gasped when she realized what she had done. “Sorry!” she cried, then covered her own mouth with her hands.

 There the two girls stood, surrounded by greenery, the morning sun streaming through the glass ceiling of the Whitmore Conservatory, reduced to little more than statues in a bid to remain silent.

“Girls …” Sebastian stood with his wife and, once he checked that their noises had no effect, strode down the path toward them. “What did you both promise me? The very reason I agreed to bring you both today?”

“That we would not disturb you.” Rosalie bowed her head.

“That we would keep to the other side of the conservatory.” Lily did the same as her sister.

“Is this keeping your promise?” He stood over them, fixing the two girls with a look of disappointment.

“No, it is not,” Rosalie said.

“Sorry, Father,” Lily added.

Sebastian wished to be annoyed at the two girls – they needed it, if for no other reason than to serve as a reminder. They were old enough now to know better, Rosalie especially, and he liked to believe that his eldest was at least sufficiently mature to be trusted to behave. 

However, hearing Lily call him ‘father’ had the same effect that it always did. He felt it in his heart, as if a hand had grabbed it and started to squeeze. And dammit, if his throat didn’t suddenly sting with the threat of tears.

I am almost certain that she is aware of this and does it on purpose.

“Just try to keep it down,” he told them gently. “On the other side of the conservatory.”

“Yes, Father!” Rosalie said quickly.

“Thank you, Father,” Lily added.

“Well?” He cocked an eyebrow at them. “What are you both still doing here?”

They grinned wickedly, first at him, and then at one another. A second later, and the two girls were sprinting back down the pathway, laughing together, sure to keep it down until they were far enough away that they could not be heard.

“You are far too easy on them …” Behind him, Elena laughed to herself. “A big softie, is what you are.”

Sebastian turned and smiled to see his wife, and who she was sitting beside. And he held that smile as he went to her. “She called me father,” he said. “What else could I do?”

“She does it on purpose, you know.”

He laughed and kissed Elena on the head. “I assumed as much. She’s manipulative, isn’t she? Like her mother.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing …” Sebastian winked at his wife, enjoying the pantomime, before turning his attention to the cradle that she was seated beside. Or, more specifically, his son who was fast asleep inside of it.

Anthony Ashworth, just eight months old, already with thick brown hair, rosy, pink cheeks, blue eyes like sapphires and, of the moment, clutching in his tiny hand a sprig of rosemary. Sebastian smiled at his son, noting the rosemary, wondering if his mother had given it to him, or if he had taken it from her himself.

Knowing little Anthony, he saw his mother holding it and insisted that she give it to him. Which begs the question, does he take more after Elena or me?

He laughed at the thought, knowing it made no difference. He was their son, they loved him equally and without question, and with two older sisters to look over him, Sebastian already knew that his would be a life wanting for nothing.

For a few moments, Sebastian stood with his wife, both gazing at their son. Elena had insisted on bringing him today, unable to bear being away from him, while also wishing to visit the conservatory because, despite how busy she was with a new son, she did not shirk her responsibility.

“Oh ho!” Mrs. Whitmore’s joyous crying suddenly cut through the moment. “There you both – oh!” She saw them standing over Anthony’s cradle and covered her mouth. “Did I wake him?”

“No,” Sebastian said. “He is a good sleeper. Lucky, considering the company he keeps.”

Mrs. Whitmore laughed as she hobbled toward them. She was getting on in years and starting to look her age like she had not when Sebastian first met her. But she was still lively, full of humor, and a welcome addition to the little family of which Sebastian had found himself a part. 

“You know, you are welcome to keep the cradle in the main office. Just as I am more than happy to watch over the little angel.”

“I know it,” Elena said. “But I can’t bear to be away from him …” Her smile shone as she looked down at Anthony.

“Perhaps a day off?” Mrs. Whitmore suggested.

“Good luck.” Sebastian laughed. “If you can figure out how to convince her of that, I will give you my entire fortune.”

“Oh, I am not that bad!” Elena said.

In answer to this, Sebastian raised a questioning eyebrow at his wife, while looking her over. Even now, she was dressed in a dirt-stained apron, with hands just as filthy, as she had spent the last several minutes pruning some troublesome shrubs while Anthony slept behind her.

It is just like the first day I saw her all those years ago. The dedication she had. The focus and the passion. It is just one of the many reasons that I fell in love with her.

“I can’t stop you from working,” Mrs. Whitmore said. “But I can drag you away.”

“What do you mean?” Elena asked.

“I did not come here to look upon the little sprout …” Mrs. Whitmore cooed gently at Anthony before turning back to Elena and Sebastian. “But to tell you both that you have guests. Arrived, just now.”

“Who?” Sebastian asked.

“A surprise!” Mrs. Whitmore declared. “That is more fun, I think. And as I believe you will both want your wits about you, I will happily watch over the little one until you are done.”

“Oh …” Elena grimaced and looked at her son with worry. “There is no need for –”

“No arguments!” Mrs. Whitmore held up a hand to silence her. “Go, and I will stand guard.” She put her hands on her hips and stared them both down.

Sebastian laughed and took Elena’s hand. “I think we can trust Mrs. Whitmore to watch Anthony for a few minutes.” 

Elena sucked through her teeth, offered a final look of worry at her son, and allowed herself to be dragged down the path. As they went, Sebastian wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, holding her close, letting her know through action that he was there for her always.

As to who their visitor was? That was nowhere near as surprising as Sebastian thought. At least at first.

“Edmund!” Sebastian called when he saw Edmund lurking toward the conservatory entrance. And with him, of course, was Miss Clara Hale. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Edmund beamed and waved, as did Miss Clara. They held hands as they stood together, their smiles large, their eyes glimmering. It always amused Sebastian to think that once upon a time, his sister-in-law had been so set on seeing him and Miss Clara married. An impossible match, and one that surely would have ended in tragedy.

As well as leaving the two of us not nearly so happy. Where I have Elena, she has Edmund, and a happier pair I could not imagine. 

“Oh, you came!” Elena broke off from Sebastian and hurried down the path toward the married couple. 

“Of course we did,” Miss Clara said as she broke off from Edmund and rushed to meet Elena. They took one another’s hands and kissed each other’s cheeks, laughing all the while. “We promised, and I don’t break promises.”

“Was that directed at me?” Edmund asked as he hurried in after his wife.

“Did I say it was?” Miss Clara turned back and fixed him with a look.

Edmund grimaced. “We almost didn’t make it – my fault. I double-booked my morning, and was it not for Clara pestering me –”

“Reminding, not pestering.”

“–we might very well have broken our promise.”

“What promise?” Sebastian reached the three of them. There, he offered a short bow to Miss Clara and then shook Edmund by the hand. “And why am I always the last one to be told about anything?”

“Because you don’t pay attention,” Elena said.

“The girls’ friendship garden,” Miss Clara said. “Lily and Rosalie have been begging us all week to bring our own seedlings to plant, and I told Elena we would today. I hope that is not a trouble?”

“It better not be,” Edmund huffed.

Lily and Rosalie had their own plot in the conservatory, one that was gifted to them by Mrs. Whitmore under the strict instructions that they do with it whatever they wished. The girls, of course, were beyond thrilled by this, and they had already started planting all manner of various flowers, excited to see what breeds they might create.

They called it their ‘Friendship Garden,’ and, evidently, they had commissioned outside seedlings. They really do take after Elena and me…

“I’m confused …” Sebastian looked between his wife and his friends. “Why was Mrs. Whitmore so secretive about the two of you being here? It is not exactly a surprise.” He scoffed. “At least for some.”

“Mrs. Whitmore?” Edmund frowned. “We haven’t seen her.”

“Yes, you have,” Elena said. “She told us just now that you were here.”

“No …” Miss Clara said slowly. “We literally arrived a second before we saw you.”

Sebastian looked at his wife, sharing in her confusion. “Then who did Mrs. Whitmore speak with?” 

“She spoke with me.”

She emerged from behind a row of hedges as if appearing from thin air. A rather humble apparition, considering who she was and what she thought of herself. Her outfit, too, a simple gray gown, purposefully reserved and nondescript. The way she stood was withdrawn, and her eyes looked everywhere but directly at Sebastian and Elena.

If I were not looking at her right now, I might not believe it was her. Two years, and I wonder if it is worth asking who this woman is, and what she has done with my sister-in-law?

“Lady Ashworth  …” Elena stiffened, and she took hold of Sebastian’s arm. “What are you doing here?”

“I am not here to cause any problems.” Margaret stayed back, careful not to get too close as if she worried that she might be attacked. “Nor do I wish to upset.”

Sebastian frowned at his sister-in-law, still taken by how different she was to the last time he had seen her. That was two years ago, shortly after Lord Thorne’s trial when he told her without exaggeration that he never wished to see or speak to her again.

 “Your being here is a problem,” Sebastian said coldly. “And I would have hoped that you would know better than to waste our time with whatever this is.”

Margaret bowed her head, shame pouring from her body. “You are right to be upset with me.”

“I can’t believe my ears!” Sebastian cried. “Did you just admit fault?”

She winced. “I did not come here to argue. Nor am I seeking forgiveness.”

“What did you come here for then?” Elena asked. Unlike Sebastian, her tone was not aggressive, and still holding Sebastian by the arm, he could feel her grip soften. 

“I came to apologize …” Slowly, Margaret lifted her gaze, and in her eyes, Sebastian saw what, on most, would have amounted to piety. It looked strange on Margaret, and Sebastian still wasn’t sure that he believed it. “There is no excuse for what I did, and I am not going to make one. But I have spent the last two years considering how I treated you both … you especially, Your Grace.” That was directed at Elena, and that she used Elena’s title was so surprising that Sebastian nearly fell over. “It was wrong of me, and there is nothing I can do to make up for it. All I ask is that you know how sorry I am and …” She furrowed her brow, and it almost looked as if she was trying to keep herself from crying. “And that you know that after today, you will never hear from me again.”

“Is that all?” Sebastian said, his voice still cold. The words his sister-in-law spoke were the right ones, but he knew her well enough to know better than to fall for her lies. 

“No …” There was hurt in her eyes, again, such that it almost looked real. “I will leave you now. And congratulations …” A smile took her lips. “Regarding the child. I hear that he is lovely.” With that, she turned and started to walk away.

“Good riddance,” Sebastian said.

“Sebastian …” Elena looked at him, her eyes pleading. “She is family.”

“Hardly.”

“She is clearly sorry.”

“Elena, you do not know her.”

“Maybe not. But what I do know is the importance of second chances.” She cocked an eyebrow at Sebastian. “And that everyone deserves them.”

Sebastian winced, knowing already that this was a fight he would lose. In a weird way, he almost wanted to. 

He turned, found Margaret still walking away from them, and grimaced to see how utterly broken and shamed she was. She had wronged them both. She had done so for the worst of reasons. But she was their family … and as I have learned these past two years, family is everything. 

“Wait!” Sebastian called to which Margaret immediately turned around. “Would you …” He groaned, looked at Elena one more time, and relented. “Would you like to meet Anthony?”

Margaret beamed. “That would be lovely.”

As surprising as it was, lovely was the exact right word to use.

Sebastian and Elena strolled with Margaret back into the conservatory where they introduced her to their son. And it was when Margaret picked him up, her eyes wet with tears, that Sebastian felt a tightness in his chest, born from the realization that this was the right thing.

For all Margaret had done … he wanted Anthony to have the best life possible, and that started by having a family who he could always rely on. 

“Do you know what I am thinking?” Elena whispered to Sebastian as they watched Margaret hold their child.

“What?”

“That we invite her to supper tonight. Seeing as Isobel will be there …” She raised a knowing eyebrow at Sebastian.

“Is that such a good idea?” 

These last two years had seen Lord Thorne’s true wife, Isobel Canterbury, grow close to Sebastian and Elena; not quite family, but an extension of the fact. She had helped them, and at great danger to herself. In Sebastian’s eyes, they owed her everything.

“Why not?” Elena said. “Surely, Margaret will want to apologize. And I can’t help feeling that it will be good to put all of this to bed once and for all. For Margaret, and for you …” She took Sebastian’s hand and squeezed it.

Sebastian sighed, knowing that his wife spoke the truth. Although he liked to think he was well past what had happened, in this instance, it was a good idea to put that final nail in the coffin and be done with it. The future was what Sebastian had to look forward to, and to do that, one needed to forget the past.

“Say, Margaret, do you have any plans this evening?”

Of course, she did not. And, of course, she was happy to join them.

It felt strange to think that he would be dining with his sister-in-law again, after what had happened, but as Sebastian looked from her to his wife, while hearing the laughter of his daughters echo throughout the conservatory, he supposed it wasn’t nearly that strange at all.

So much had changed these past two years, and so much was still yet to be so. The past was important because it defined where you came from, but the future was what mattered most, and Sebastian had no chance of predicting where that might lead him.

What he did know was that so long as he had his wife by his side, and his children were safe and looked after, he would be happy. Such a small thing, but considering where he had come from, it was huge. 

A new life, a new wife, a new chance at happiness. Found, secured, and well deserved.

THE END