CHAPTER 20
EPILOGUE
Afew months later, York
On a rare sunny morning outside the ancient doors of Holy Trinity Micklegate church in York, the Lord and Lady Ritchfield congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Walker on their nuptials. The two had signed the marriage certificate as witnesses only a few minutes earlier, the stained glass windows on the east side of the building casting them in blue, green, red, and yellow light.
“Are you sure you won’t join us for the ride back to Gladstone Park?” Tom asked, indicating the curricle parked in front of the second oldest church in York. The servants had decorated the equipage for the wedding, with old shoes tied at the end of streamers so they would drag on the street behind the curricle.
Ivy and Robert exchanged quick glances. “This is your day,” the earl said. “Cook should have your wedding breakfast ready when you arrive, and the entire staff knows they have the rest of the day off to help you celebrate,” he added.
“Oh, but do save some cake for us,” Ivy said. “I look forward to having some with tea later today.”
“Of course we will,” Anne assured her. “And thank you again for the gown. It’s far nicer than my Sunday best,” she added, holding out the blush-colored silk skirt Ivy had gifted her the week before. Anne had discovered it in one of the three trunks that had arrived from London on the mail coach the month before.
“I’m so glad you could wear it. It hasn’t fit me in an age, so I was surprised when Watkins sent it up with my other gowns,” Ivy replied. In truth, the color never suited her complexion nor her hair color. On her lady’s maid, it was the perfect gown for a wedding.
“My lord, if I’m not to drive you, how will you get back to Gladstone Hall?” Tom asked with concern.
“Walk, probably,” Robert replied. “If we grow tired, there is always a hackney about.”
“We’re going to take advantage of this lovely day to get some air,” Ivy said. “And I won’t require your services until tomorrow morning,” she added, turning her attention back to her lady’s maid.
“Latetomorrow morning,” Robert put in, arching a teasing brow. He held out his right hand to Tom. “Keep her happy,” he said as he shook hands with the driver.
“It’s my every intention, my lord.”
Robert and Ivy watched as the two servants climbed into the curricle, Tom taking up the reins to drive the single white horse past Micklegate Bar and the walls surrounding the city of York.
Ivy waved as the equipage merged into traffic and then she and the earl regarded one another a moment with grins.
“Acting as their witness has meant you have missed your regular visit to the boxing saloon this morning,” she remarked. “Do you wish to go now?” she asked, waving in the general direction of the city.
Robert shook his head. “I haven’t been for several weeks.”
Blinking, Ivy placed a hand on his proffered arm. “What? But I thought?—”
“I don’t go because I haven’t felt the need to punch anything since Christmas,” he said proudly, leading them toward the River Ouse. “Thanks to you.”
Ivy inhaled softly. Although she had worried he might regret inviting her to stay with him in York, they had settled into a comfortable and satisfying life at Gladstone Hall. “So... where have you been going every Saturday morning whilst I’ve been having breakfast?” she asked.
He chuckled softly. “Taking a long walk is all,” he said, his gaze darting down to the water as they crossed the bridge.
“Where do you go?”
He shrugged. “Usually into town. Sometimes I walk the walls, and sometimes I stop for a bite of chocolate, or I find a costermonger selling oranges,” he said with a shrug.
“So that’s where the chocolate’s been coming from,” she murmured. Every so often, a piece of it would be included with her breakfast, and she had no idea why since she had never included it on the menu.
“I do love watching you eat it,” he said, grinning as they made their way on High Ousegate Street.
She returned her grin, sure her face was red from hearing his comment. “I do wish it had been warmer today,” she remarked.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, the cool weather has certainly helped the earldom’s profits,” he said. “Michael and I reviewed this past year’s ledgers, and I must say, I am quite happy with what he’s done by way of improvements. He’s bought lamps which use a special battery from the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and he’s changed the schedules so the miners are working fewer hours.”
“For less pay?” she asked, her brows furrowed.
“No. Same pay, because for some reason, their quotasremain the same and they still meet them,” he replied, a brow furrowed as if he was still trying to sort how that could be.
