The song for this epilogue is Changes by Sam Tinnesz.


Epilogue - Changes

December 15, 1912

Thomas grinned as he felt the small movement against his cheek again. His head was pillowed in Edith's lap as they lounged on the beach, one of her hands absentmindedly raking through his slightly silvered black curls while the other held up a novel at eye level; Thomas's hands, which had been occupied with the latest journal of mechanical engineering, moved instead to cup Edith's prominent stomach through the layers of her clothing.

"This child moves more than any of our others did, my love," Thomas chuckled.

"It's only fitting that our fifth child should be the one with the most energy," Edith replied dryly. "This little one will surely get into all kinds of mischief while we are too busy with the others to give chase!"

"Yes, well - we'll just have to recruit Valerie to be our eyes and ears once again. She's done an admirable job keeping the others in line all these years, after all!" Thomas smirked as he turned his gaze toward the seashore, where his oldest daughter was wading in the surf while her younger siblings shrieked and splashed around her. Rochester, who had been their fast companion all these years, was chasing birds up and down the shoreline; although he had slowed down considerably over the past couple years, he reverted to youthful behavior at times like these.

Valerie had just turned nine, and was quickly blossoming into a comely young woman. Raven curls framed soft features she'd inherited from her mother, and her pale blue eyes were quick to take in the world; although more like her father in temperament, she shared Edith's passion for writing and was working on her very own novel, though (much like her mother often was) she was secretive about the project and was insisting on keeping it to herself until the work was complete.

Estelle, their second born, was seven and had a fiery personality. In toddlerhood she'd been the most difficult of their children by far, and Thomas had often been uncannily reminded of Lucille's bursts of anger when Estelle threw massive tantrums; it didn't help that she resembled her aunt in appearance as well, as she'd inherited her father's dark tresses and sharp features along with her mother's brown eyes. However, Estelle had tempered somewhat as she grew older, and she also had a propensity for kindness that Lucille had never possessed. She could often be found playing with her little brothers, helping Edith around the house, or assisting Thomas in his workshop; much to her father's pride she seemed to be mechanically minded, and had created several small working contraptions already.

Albert and David, five and four, were the best of friends. David had been a complete surprise and had been born less than a year and a half after Albert. Sometimes Thomas was rather jealous of the brothers' close bond - they were as close as he and Lucille had been as children, relying on each other as well as sharing each others' secrets and plotting mischief together, yet without the pernicious influence of Lucille's cold cruelty and the unhealthy sexual bond she'd initiated. What would his life have been like, Thomas wondered, if he'd grown up with a brother instead of a sister?

Another kick interrupted Thomas's thoughts, and he closed his eyes as he concentrated on the feeling. This little one had also come as a shock, as they'd tried their best to avoid pregnancy after David. Edith had struggled mightily while she was expecting him - in addition to being far sicker than she'd ever been with the other children, she'd bled sporadically in worrying amounts. Thomas had hired a temporary nanny to help with the other children during that time, as the midwife strongly suggested that Edith confine herself to bed for the duration of the pregnancy in order to preserve the life of both her and the babe. His birth had been likewise long and traumatic, eerily reminding Thomas of the nightmarish encounter that Lucille's labor had been so many years before, and the attending doctor had called it a miracle that both mother and child had survived. Those months had been harrowing for their entire family, and both Thomas and Edith had agreed that they didn't want to risk her life again.

Thankfully, despite their fears this current pregnancy had been blessedly mundane, and their new addition was due in a short two months. Both had gradually become excited instead of anxious about this new child, and Edith had been once again in a flurry of activity preparing the nursery and baby miscellany for their latest blessing. Thomas had needed to convince her to take a break to spend this day relaxing at the seaside; if she wasn't busy knitting a new wee blanket (and her knitting skills had improved considerably over the years!), she was busy teaching the older children, running the household, or hunched over the typewriter creating her next masterpiece.

Crimson Peak had been a smashing success, with the book being published and receiving acclaim not only in Australia but also - eventually - in England and America as well. The story had been lauded as the "next great Gothic novel" and had outperformed their most hopeful ambitions. Edith had insisted on writing under a pseudonym as a precautionary measure to protect Thomas and herself from being recognized - though the book was mostly "inspired by" the actual happenings and was unlikely to be linked back to the Sharpes, she didn't want to take even that small chance.

After the success of Edith's first work, the publisher had asked for another novel as soon as possible. Edith had quickly begun another book - at least as swiftly as she could manage while also taking care of Valerie, who had been a small toddler at the time. This one was a rewrite of her very first work, the manuscript of which Lucille had ruthlessly burned. The finished novel was significantly different from the original; not only could Edith not recall the original document exactly, she had also intentionally made several revisions to the characters and, in her estimation, made their personalities and interactions more believable. "I was young and naive when I first wrote this," she'd remarked to Thomas as he perused the first draft, an affectionate smile on her face, "I know much more of love now!"

In the spring of 1908, a year after Edith's third novel had been released, they'd saved up enough money from book royalties, Thomas's employment, and gains on their investments to allow the inventor to realize a dream of his - retiring from his engineering job and opening his own shop specializing in mechanical contraptions. Although some of his revenue came from simple repair work on watches, gramophones, and the like, the real heart of the business came from selling his creations. The shop became known for clever toys, appliances, time-saving devices, and much more; within two years Thomas was making more from the venture than he had been at his previous position.

Thomas still thought of Lucille, of course. Over the years those memories and emotions remained, but gratefully had become less painful with the passing of time. Likewise, regret for his past actions featured less prominently in his mind as the years went by; Thomas knew he'd always feel guilt for the life he'd led before Edith, but, as his wife was quick to remind him, that was in the past and that's where it would stay. He was resolved to atone for his crimes in the best way he could: by living an honest life, loving his wife and raising his children well, and bringing as much good into the world as he could.

Throughout the years, Edith had been his rock. She'd encouraged him, soothed his fears, and loved him no matter what. Whenever Thomas fell into a self-pitying melancholy over his own disgraceful reactions or mistakes, Edith gently reminded him how far he'd come over the past eleven years, and when he pulled himself out of the dudgeons he had to admit that his wife was correct. Thomas had slowly been unlearning decades of toxic habits and behaviors, and with Edith's help he'd managed to discard most of the instincts he'd learned living under his parents and, later, Lucille. Marriage to Edith had prompted him to improve every aspect of his life - his character, his temperament, and even his very personality.

The Sharpe's marriage hadn't always been easy, of course. Thomas and Edith had been through difficulties, disagreements, and harsh words and hurt feelings aplenty during their years together. However, Thomas was amazed at how much of a difference it made when each person in the relationship was committed to mutual love and respect. The couple stood together as one against outward troubles, and when they quarreled between themselves, they'd work through the issue eventually and come together stronger afterwards.

Unexpectedly, Thomas felt tears spring to his eyes as his unborn child beat a rhythm on his cheek. How can all of this be real? he thought, how can I actually be this happy? Just eleven years before, he would have laughed in disbelief if someone had told him how his life would turn out. A wife who loved him, a family to care for, a career where he was free to create his inventions - all things he'd longed for in his deepest fantasies, but never thought he could have.

Sniffing, Thomas sat up and wiped the errant tears away, then pulled Edith in close with an arm around her shoulders and buried his face in her blonde crown. Putting the novel down, Edith murmured, "Thomas? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, my love," he whispered back, squeezing her closer and placing a kiss upon her head. "I just…I just love you." The words felt utterly inadequate to express the depth of his feelings at that moment, but he couldn't think of any better sentiment to summarize everything that had been going through his mind.

Edith turned her head so their faces met, and pulled Thomas down into a sweet, lingering kiss that held the promise of more - after they were back in the privacy of their own chambers, of course. As they broke apart, she professed, "I love you too, Thomas. Always."

Thomas couldn't help the wide, slightly tearful smile he gave her in return. As he pulled Edith closer in his one-armed embrace, they both turned their heads to gaze out at their children laughing and frolicking in the waves.

The Sharpe family legacy was no longer one of deception, horror, and pain. It would now and forever be built on hope, joy, and - most of all - love.


Author's Note: This story has reached its end, and I want to thank all of you who took the time to read it completely! Writing this has very much been a passion project of mine for over a year, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed crafting the happy ending that Thomas and Edith deserve.

If you've appreciated this work, please consider leaving a comment and letting me know! Even if it's been a long time since I've finished this, I promise that even then hearing your feedback will be a great encouragement!

Yours truly,

Lireth