Epilogue

Andover Castle, England

Two years later


"I say, darling, is that the way to end it?" Richard scanned the page, then the desk, as if looking for more.

"Who's the writer here, Richard, me or you?" Maggie sighed, sat back in the chair and removed her headphones.

“It doesn't seem fair to leave the reader dangling like that."

"They either believe in the power of love or they don't, darling. Besides, I don't want to divulge everything about our lives."

"You've done a bloody good job at revealing certain things, Maggie." He scowled at the page in his hand.

"Are you blushing, Richard? Tell me you are."

"If I am, my darling, it's because of your complete recall of certain facets of our lives together." What was amazing was that she'd gotten some parts exactly right.

He grinned, thinking that it might not be bad to have encouraged Maggie's talent in this new career. Granted, she spent time translating hieroglyphs for Dr. Arthur Williams at the Museum, but this new penchant of hers for fiction - even if it was too close to the mark - intrigued him even more. With her imagination, and his willing complicity, they might keep inventing ways to please one another endlessly.

"But you think the ending is too abrupt?" she asked.

Maggie unplugged the earphones from the USB slot, wound them around until the wires formed a tight circle and hung it on the hook mounted on the monitor. Her desk was spotless, a necessity for her. Without organization, she was lost. Living with Richard was chaos enough. Each day was a rollicking, riotous discovery of things shared and differences appreciated.

Face it, she was madly in love with the man and always would be, a state of affairs she'd admitted to Anne on the day she'd married Richard. Anne had only laughed and hugged her, saying that it would be nice to have another Texan in her circle of friends.

"What about the SFS? You haven’t mentioned what happened to them.”

“You and I both know that Scotland will still want independence until the day the world ends. Your assistance in that quarter just may make it happen."

"The House of Lords doesn't think so, love. I get shouted down every time I broach the subject.”

“One day it will change,” she said.

“You didn’t say anything about our courtship. It lasted a bit long as I recall. Six months. Six very long months. I even asked your father for your hand in marriage. I learned to barbeque," he added, which made her laugh.

"My father likes you, or he would never have given you his sauce recipe, and my mother is madly in love with you.”

He felt slightly mollified. "But you haven't mentioned the new house on Gull Island. Or the fact that the fire wasn’t your fault but the wiring. Or that I quite like your brother and his family."

“There’s a great deal I didn’t mention, Richard,” she said, smiling. "Such as MacCauley retiring and your new Chief Inspector."

"I quite like her. Still, you portrayed me as some sort of heart breaker. Why, that ending almost made me weep."

"Speaking of weeping, is that the baby I hear?"

"Not good form, darling, using the children to deflect my criticism."

"You’re the one who insists on equal time with them, Richard. It's your turn for nappies and stuff."

"Which means that you'll be here, ready and waiting to nurse the little beggar when he's all clean and ready?" Richard asked.

"Robert’s not a little beggar, darling, and of course I'll be ready."

"You will work on that ending, though?"

She sighed. "Will it make you feel better if I tell them all how utterly I adore our children, even Charlie, although he pretends to be blind and steals Max from me?"

"If Max was a really an exemplary guide dog, he wouldn't be so easily tempted by biscuits."

“Exactly what your son says,” she said, her smile broadening.

“Still, I sound like a bloody great prig."

“You’re my Dashing Duke, Richard,” she said, standing. She reached out a hand, and he took it, pulling her into his arms. "Should I confess that although I'll never get my sight back it doesn't seem to matter that much anymore? Will that satisfy you?"

"It's a good start," he said. He'd tell her about the appointment with the specialist later.

“And that I adore you? Heart and soul, darling."

He smiled. "Come away from the computer, then, love. They can bloody well guess the rest of the story."