“Nothing, my love. Nothing at all.”
Epilogue
Two Years Later
I crashed into the cool water of the pond, all sound muted beneath its surface, and thrashed my arms and legs in measured movements, up, up until my face broke free into the warm air and sunlight.
A deep breath.
Then, “You cannot make me get in!” Liza’s shrill voice rang in the air.
“It is warm enough!” Ben laughed. “We will save you if you sink.”
“I’ve swam before, thank you very much.” She poked his chest.
Even from a distance I could see Ben’s cheeks grow rosy. He’d reached one and twenty a fortnight ago, and I knew exactly where his mind was.
Liza’s prospects had come and gone after three Seasons. She was decidedly through with the anxiety of matchmaking and therefore happily “on the shelf,” though I wondered if that would last.
The door to my new changing room creaked open. Its architect stepped out dressed in his bathing costume. A size too big, if you asked my opinion.
“Is she still not in?” He smirked at Liza, then his eyes met mine.
“Toss her overboard!” I called, reaching my arms out to float as Charlie had taught me.
Liza’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Don’t you dare.Please.”
Charlie nodded toward her, then Ben put a finger to his lips.
“Very well, I’ll get in.Myself.” She turned quickly to be certain they weren’t sneaking up behind her.
Charlie shrugged and ran into the shallow end. When the water hit his waist, he leaned forward, swimming toward me with swift speed. He swiped a hand through his wet hair and tucked his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to the shallows so he could hold me in his arms.
“Not too bad, is it?” He motioned to the square house he’d designed.
I held onto his neck and kissed him soundly. “It is perfect.”
He grinned. “Are you certain you can swim so soon after the birth?”
“Four months, Charlie. John Henry is four months old.”
“Really?” He drew back. “It seems like just yesterday. Well, our son is asleep. His grandmothers are both perched over his crib in the nursery at Whitely.”
“Lucky boy,” I said. Our families had gathered for the week at the Winstons’ ancestral home to belatedly celebrate John Henry’s birth.
A splash, and Liza shrieked. Ben had jumped in the water right in front of her.
“Ah,” Ben teased. “So refreshing.”
With both hands, Liza swept water into his eyes.
“As it should be,” I said to Charlie, in more ways than one. Our son would be heir to all this, and everything more we created together.
We swam until it was time to dress for dinner. Then Charlie and I dressed and drove our gig from our rechristened home, Oak’s End, to Whitely, where our families awaited us.
A carriage pulled up in the drive behind us as we descended. A man in his late thirties stepped out, turning to lift his hand for his companion.
“She’s here!” I let go of Charlie, racing forward. “Aunt Alice!”
