So, this is the last chapter, I hope you have enjoyed it! I want to thank everybody who has reviewed, you've been great readers; and remind you that there is a sequel out now! :)
As always, "Crimson Peak" is not mine, which means I do not own it, and I do not claim to. This entire story is written just for fun, there's no money involved, and I mean no copyright infringement in any way.
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As summer came around, they returned for the first time to the park where Edith and Lucille had been watching the butterflies in the autumn, this time to have a picnic. Besides Edith's father, Alan had joined them for the day, along with his mother and sister. Fergusson and his wife accompanied them as well.
It was a beautiful day, birds singing, sun shining and Mrs McMichael subdued enough not to be a nusance, and Edith watched through the corner of her eye how Thomas read through some pages in her next novel while Alan, her father and his laywer argued good-naturedly about something, as the lawyer's wife gave her a knowing smile she was not entirely sure how to interpret.
"Your story turned out alright, in the end then, dear," the woman noted kindly, and Edith found herself smiling spontaneously before nodding, seeing how the older woman looked over at Thomas. She was not sure if she meant their own story, or the pages he was holding. As the older woman seemed to expect no reply, maybe it was both.
Soon enough, Edith's father and Alan needed to get back to work after their lunch hour, and the older pair excused themselves as well, making the two McMichael women take their leave too, leaving Edith alone with the birdsong, the flutter of the now very alive and well butterflies, and the steady breathing of her much beloved husband.
She did not notice that she had been lost in thought until she felt Thomas' hand on her arm, gently waking her from her thoughts for once, and was met by his smile. "This story is even better than the last one," he told her honestly, his smile making his eyes wrinkle charmingly, giving her a look that was utterly irresistable.
"I like your heroine," he continued, the genuine, adoring smile still making his eyes glitter and almost distracting her from his words. "She's got spirit". "She chose to be that way," she confided in him, "characters talk to you, they make choises". "Well I like her," he repeated with emphasis before finally giving a small laugh. "And I like how she marries an englishman, of course." "Well, she chose that too," she replied with a cheeky smile, and then she kissed him.