Epilogue
Spring, 1801
The weather was perfect for a ride in the Park, and Jack relished the day. His mount was spirited and pranced impatiently, but nevertheless, he managed the reins with one hand, while touching the brim of his hat in greeting with the other. It was the start of a new Season, his first complete Season with Rose as his wife, and he could only call his mood elated.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Dawson." Jack turned his head toward the landaulet that drew up beside him. "Lady Rowland." He smiled.
''Have you heard from your brother?''
''Yes. He wrote me just last week; he is to marry in the West Indies this coming summer.''
''Fancy. Send my best, I wish him well.''
''Indeed, I will.'' Jack stroked his horse. The news had come as quite a shock to him, William Sedgewick was not a man who believed in matters of the heart but apparently, he had met a young widow; Lady Harman, whose husband had passed two years prior in some God-awful accident and she had relocated to the West Indies to run their business abroad and settle there away from the public view of Society. She travelled back to London quarterly to visit family, oversee the estate and settle any business but now she had fallen for his brother and was willing to give up the entirety of it to take the Sedgewick name and marry William.
''The woman must be raging mad.''
Jack nodded in agreement.
"May I inquire after your wife?"
"You may. She's presently napping, I am sorry to say. I pine for her company."
"She's not ill, is she?" Edwina asked, her brows drawn into a frown beneath her wide-brimmed hat.
"No, she's well. Weary and a bit achy at the moment, but then we just returned to Town, as you know. The journey can be tiring." Of course, he hadn't allowed her much sleep at the inn but they never did seem to sleep much these days.
Rose grew more beautiful by the day, and more irresistible. He often thought of the portrait of her, the one that hung above the fireplace in the formal parlour of their Seaside Hall which he had created the year before. He'd noted her happiness then but now it seemed her contentment far surpassed those early days. To think that a year ago he'd thought to sate his lust and end his torment. The former would never happen, not while he breathed, but the latter was a distant memory. He thanked the Lord daily that he'd managed to slay her demons as well. Together, they'd found peace, and it was a state of being he cherished.
"I am relieved to hear it's nothing serious. My daughter is quite eager to see her again, and she promised to call this week."
"Then I'm certain she shall."
They spoke for a few moments longer, but when his horse grew agitated, Jack bade his farewell. He took a less travelled path than the Row, and freed his mount to run, then he turned toward Grosvenor Square, hoping he'd given Rose enough time to sleep, but too impatient to dally any more, regardless. heavy uneasiness settled over him.
As he rode up to the steps of his house, he caught sight of the man who departed. He tossed the reins to the waiting groomsman and hurried inside.
"Good afternoon, sir," the servant greeted as Jack handed over his hat and gloves.
"Apparently not, since the doctor was here."
"Mrs. Dawson is ill, my lord."
But he knew that was not the case. Was it? Worried beyond measure, he took the stairs two at a time. He entered their rooms cautiously, hesitantly. Pausing on the threshold of Rose's boudoir, he caught the scent of illness, which lingered, defying the windows which were flung wide open to entice the air to circulate. His wife lay still as death on the couch with unhealthy pallor, her skin lightly misted with sweat despite the fact she wore only her negligee and the temperature was more cold than warm. The doctor was an idiot. Despite his lack of medical knowledge, it was obvious to Jack that Rose was gravely ill. A maid bustled around the room, arranging flowers in an effort to scent the room with something pleasant. One look from Jack, however, and she curtsied and hurried away.
"My love." He fell to his knees beside the couch and brushed the damp tendrils of Rose's hair off her forehead. Her skin was clammy, and he fought the urge to snatch her to him and hold her close. Rose moaned softly at the touch of her husband's hand. Opening her eyes, she stared at Jack, acknowledging, as she often did, that she would never tire of looking at him.
"What ails you?" he asked softly, his low velvety voice a soothing caress.
"I was just thinking of you. Where did you go?"
"For a ride in the Park."
"You wicked man. Tormenting all the women in London with the sight of you." The harsh cynicism that had once etched his features was gone, revealing a face of breath-taking masculine beauty. "I'm certain you set every female heart aflutter."
He made a valiant effort to smile through his worried frown. "You never become jealous anymore. I'm not certain how I should feel about that."
"You arrogant man. I trust you to behave yourself. Especially in the near future when I cannot be with you.".
"Cannot be with ... Dear God." He tugged her from the sofa into his arms. "Please spare me," he begged. "Tell me what's wrong. I am wretched over your illness. I will find the best specialists, research every medical volume, call upon-"
She pressed cool fingertips to his lips. "A midwife will suffice."
"A midwife?" His eyes widened and then shot to her belly. "A midwife?"
"You certainly put enough effort into it," she teased, adoring the wonder that slowly filled his eyes. "You should not be quite so startled."
"Rose." He squeezed her gently. "Speech fails me."
"Tell me you are happy. That is all I ask."
"Happy? Bloody hell, I was beyond happy when it was just you and I. And content. Now ... now there are no words for how I feel."
Rose buried her face in her husband's throat and breathed him in, finding instant comfort just from the feel of him next to her. She had suspected pregnancy for weeks, as her breasts had grown more tender and her body had been plagued by weariness. Hiding her morning illness had not been easy, but she'd managed until today. She finally called for the doctor when she'd been inwardly certain she would hear the news she desired above anything.
"I know precisely what you mean to convey," she murmured against his skin. "I will never be able to tell you how it touches me that you loved me, even though we have never discussed children, not really."
Settling more comfortably into his lap, Rose thought of how different her life was now from how it had been only a year ago. She'd said she wanted equanimity, but what she had truly wanted was numbness, a respite from the knowledge that she was missing something vital. To have been so afraid, so sure that loving Jack would weaken her, rather than strengthen her ... She couldn't fathom it now.
"I love you," she murmured, perfectly happy for the first time since she was a child. Secure in his arms, she drifted to sleep and dreamed of the future.
THE END.
Just a very quick note from me:
I sincerely cannot thank you all enough for the reviews, the messages and DM's I have received over the two years I have put into this; you guys were the absolute driving force to get me to finish it. Personally, I had my baby and with this year spent pretty much in lockdown it has been tough but writing this has given me such focus and drive to get through and to keep writing beyond now.
Keep safe everyone and I hope you have a fantastic Christmas and New Year!
