‘You know I am not good at showing my emotions.’She stepped close and pressed her cheek against his chest.He wrapped his arms around her.‘But I don’t think I’ve been happier in my life.’
Epilogue
Sevenyearslater
‘Mother, I really must go—’
‘One more.’Lorelei pulled Arley into a hug.He’d grown so tall, well over six feet, and her cheek squashed against his chest.He huffed, patted her back twice, then squirmed out of her grasp like an embarrassed boy instead of a grown man of twenty-one.
‘It’s onlyLondon.I’m not moving to another country,’ Arley said gruffly.
‘I suppose not.’Lorelei tapped his side and forced a smile.No, it wasn’t that far.Two days in the carriage, or a few short hours by train.How to explain that, for her, it might as well be another world?For all his intelligence, Arley seemed determined not to acknowledge what marrying outside the peerage had done to her reputation.He was so uninterested in society that he failed to grapple with its nuances and unwritten rules.Although he was a duke.He had the luxury of being blasé.
‘You’ll come home for the summer picnic, won’t you?’she asked.‘Everyone in the county would love to see you.’
‘If I’m not too busy.’He pulled himself up into the carriage and settled in the centre of the seat, facing forward.Cecil passed him his leather satchel, stuffed with books and notes and all the things he carried about with him.‘I always found the summer picnic a bit… overwhelming.Too many people.And the older farmers, they’re always trying to corner me to talk about their daughters.’He rolled his eyes.‘It’s not me they’re interested in.Just the title.’
Tillman, who had been checking the horses, sidled up to her with a chuckle.He thrust his palm into the carriage, and Arley gave it one firm shake.Far from enemies, but not quite friends, an odd, quiet respect ran between the two men.They were not simply employer and employee or mere colleagues—but they weren’t quite family to one another either.
Tillman folded the steps away and shut the carriage door.Arley pushed the window open.
‘Don’t fall in with a bad crowd,’ Lorelei called up to him.‘And don’t drink the water straight from the river.I’ve been reading the latest news about it, and you should boil it first.And be careful of—’
‘Travel safe, Your Grace.’Tillman nudged her side.Behind her back, he grasped her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.‘I’ll send a report on the estate every week.’
At the back of the carriage, Cecil checked the straps that tied down the wooden trunks.He paused before the two of them, then gave a short bow and a rueful, if somewhat excited smile.‘You’ll manage without me, Duchess?’he asked.
‘If Arley says he’d like you to run his household in London, then manage I must.’She leant in a little.‘But tell me if he is stubborn and sullen.In case I need to prod him to get out andmeetpeople.’
Cecil’s lips twitched.‘It’s not his favourite pastime.But I shall try.’
He bowed and gave the house one long look, tipping his hat at the gables in a silent goodbye.It had been his home for more years than it had been hers.Then he climbed up the side of the carriage and took his place beside the driver.Even if Arley had requested his company inside the compartment, he’d likely have refused, old stickler for propriety that he was.
Arley’s fingers tapped against the lowered window, as if he was impatient to leave.Lorelei drew a bitter breath.The years since she’d pulled him out of school to bring him home had been so short.Too soon, he’d scampered off to Oxford, and then abroad.He’d grown and laughed and learnt, but beneath it all, the two of them had never fully settled, had never quite established a peace between them.Maybe he’d not forgiven her.Or maybe he’d not forgiven heryet.She squeezed Tillman’s hand and let the grief for the lost years roll in, then ebb away.He was still thoughtful.He was still quiet.If nothing else, she’d given him space to be himself.
Arley waved.Tillman nodded at the driver.The reins flicked, the horses pawed, then tugged, and the carriage jerked forwards.Arley snapped the window shut, and there was nothing left to do but watch the carriage roll away.Soon, it was hidden by the curve and incline of the drive.
‘Did you really ask Cecil to spy on your son?’Tillman asked.
‘Notspy.I just don’t trust him to tell me himself if something’s wrong.He is stubborn, like his father.’
‘That comesonlyfrom his father?’
‘What are you implying?’
‘Nothing, my wife.’He chuckled.‘Nothing at all.’
Lorelei leant against him.They stood like that, her relying on his steadiness to bolster her as the sound of the horses’ hooves faded.Red and orange leaves scattered over the drive, ushering in another autumn for the estate.And, perhaps, a longer season of autumn for herself.
‘Are you going to cry?’Tillman asked.
‘I didn’t cry when he went to Oxford.And I didn’t cry when he went abroad.’
‘This is a little different…’
‘Not in front of everyone.Maybe later.When I am alone.’
‘We could visit.In a few weeks, to make sure he’s settled.You don’t have to stay at the house.’
