Her son placed a hand on her belly. “No. I’ll protect her forever.”
“Her?” Nicholas asked. “You believe you’ll have a sister, do you?”
Patrick nodded. “A baby sister.”
Jenny laughed. “And how is it you know she will be a daughter?”
His touch was light as he patted her stomach. “‘Cause you got a son. Me!”
“Indeed, I dohavea son,” she corrected with a laugh. “Now, off with you. Mrs. Blainton is waiting.”
The boy hurried away in search of the nanny, as Nicholas placed an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “He’s grown so much. Where has the time gone?”
“Time has a way of passing us by far too quickly,” Jenny said, tugging at her braid. Once her hair had grown long enough, she swore never to cut it again. The two years it had taken to regrow her hair had been excruciating!
Nicholas wrapped his arms around her from behind, and both gazed at Chestnut Manor. A red-brick, three-story house, the manor had become their new home a year after they married. Rosling Estate had sold for a hefty price, allowing them to live closer to the docks, where he could keep a close eye on his newest investment—a grand ship.
“I really should get that letter written to Walcott before changing for dinner,” Nicholas said, kissing her cheek. “But I want to show you something first.”
Gently taking her hand, they strolled over to a small oak tree that had been planted a year earlier. Jenny’s eyes lit up at seeing a collection of yellow daffodils around it.
“Nicholas,” she whispered. “How beautiful.”
There were many symbols of their journey together—flowers that represented those found in the abandoned house, the mask from the ball, and the hat she had used during her impersonation of Patrick Thompson. A schoolgirl had been searching for a place in the world. An earl did all he could to avoid it. Yet the two unlikely friends joined forces and found the love they both needed.
Their son and unborn child were a testament to that journey, but the love they shared was the reason for it all.
As they returned to go inside the house hand in hand, Jenny knew that love would last forever.
Epilogue
Chatsworth 1825
Jenny, Countess of Dowding, brushed tears from her face. “And that is how I came to meet and fall in love with Nicholas. A man I met as a girl, with whom I fell in love and married as a woman. And all thanks to you, Mrs. Rutley. For it was you who taught me to always have hope.”
“That was a beautiful story,” Julia said as she dabbed at her eye. “I’m so pleased you and Lord Dowding found one another.”
Jenny laughed. “If I hadn’t thrown that handkerchief over my shoulder, our story likely would never have happened.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Emma said as she, too, wiped tears from her cheeks. “Fate has a way of introducing us to those we need in our life.” She took Julia and Diana’s hands while also looking at Mrs. Rutley and Jenny. “I know my life is better for it.”
Mrs. Rutley smiled, but a racking cough doubled her over. The others surrounded her bed, looking on with as much worry as Jenny felt.
Poor Mrs. Rutley! If only she could do something to ease her pain.
When the fit subsided, Mrs. Rutley patted a place on the edge of the bed. Jenny sat. “I agree with our friends. You told a lovely story. One—like the others—I have thought of often.”
“What is strange,” Jenny said, frowning, “is Nicholas nor I never heard from Mr. Thompson again. He simply disappeared.”
Mrs. Rutley smiled. “Once his work was done, there was no need to write again, was there?” Jenny frowned as her former headmistress reached into the box that Jenny had not noticed beside her. She placed an object in Jenny’s hand. “This is for you, my dear.”
Jenny stared down, her eyes wide in shock. “It’s Mr. Thompson’s seal! I’ll always remember it. A hammer within the letter T. But how did you come by this, Mrs. Rutley?”
Then a sudden realization dawned on her. “It was you the entire time, wasn’t it? But how did you know?”
“The how and why are for me to know, Jenny,” Mrs. Rutley said, patting her arm. “I’m just glad I was able to play a part in seeing you and your husband come together.”
Mrs. Rutley’s eyes fluttered, and Jenny kissed her cheek. “You should rest now.” She motioned to the others, and they joined her in a far corner of the room. “We really must catch up,” she whispered.
Emma nodded. “Yes, let’s.” She glanced at the door. “Do you think the others will come?”
Just then, a light tap on the door made them start. When it opened, a woman with honey-blonde hair peeked her head inside.
“My friends,” Louisa said. “You’ve no idea how wonderful it is to see you!”
Jenny and the others hurried over to their friend and drew her inside. Once everyone was given the opportunity to share in embraces and express how much they had missed one another, Louisa glanced toward the bed. “And Mrs. Rutley?” she whispered, the sadness in her tone clear. “How is she?”
Jenny smiled. “Resting for now. But when she wakes, you’re to tell her a story. One that we all wish to hear as well.”
THE END