Julian didn’t feel right about burying Didimus close to Jonah and James, so he bought the plot that was on the other side of the cemetery. He had consulted Serena on the type of monument she wanted him to have for his headstone, but she didn’t seem to care. All she’d wanted was to see his body to make sure he was really dead. Julian didn’t know the details of Didimus’ marriage to Serena, and after some consideration, he decided he didn’t want to know. Some things were best left to ignorance, and this was one of them.
It was enough to know Didimus had poisoned his brothers in hopes of sharing the inheritance with him. And it was enough to know Didimus had been willing to kidnap Ophelia and hold her for ransom. Maybe he should have been relieved that Didimus had cared enough for him and Ophelia that he hadn’t planned to kill either one of them, but he was too exhausted to feel much of anything.
The past couple of days had tied up many loose ends. Detective Hall had put his case to rest, and he had arranged for Lord Wolfe’s burial. If it was up to Julian, Lord Wolfe wouldn’t have even been given the respect of a proper burial. So, he handed that task to the detective who wasn’t emotionally involved in the situation. Julian might have dedicated his life to serving the Lord, but he was still human and could only handle so much.
Julian spent considerable time in front of Didimus’ grave, wondering how their lives could have changed so much and if there might have been something he could have said or done to somehow change the outcome. After almost an hour, he came to the conclusion that, like with Jonah and James, everyone had to make their own choices. Whether good or bad, they had to make them, and they had to live, or die, as a result of them.
He went to his brothers’ mausoleum on his way out of the cemetery and paid his respects. Then he went to his family’s townhouse.
The footman greeted him even before he reached the front door. “We have done all that you’ve asked, Your Grace.”
Noting the hesitation in his voice, Julian entered the home and turned to him. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to make sure this is what you really want to do. Do you really want me to handle the sale of this townhouse?”
Julian nodded. “My place isn’t here. It’s at the parsonage. This place needs to go to someone who can use it. And I also want you to disburse the money from the sale of this townhouse amongst yourself and the other servants. It should be enough to provide for everyone for many years.”
“I understand why you’re doing this, but all of us have plans to find employment. We’ll be fine.”
“You and the others have been loyal to my parents and brothers. I want to do it to thank you for taking good care of them.”
The footman smiled at him. “If your father could be here right now, he would be happy with the way you turned out. He never gave up hope.”
Julian swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know.” He took a deep breath and released it. “Is my wife still upstairs?”
“Yes. She hasn’t been downstairs since you left.”
Julian thanked him and went up the stairs. He opened the door to the bedchamber and saw that though Ophelia had finished packing, she was sitting by the window, her gaze fixed on something outside. He went over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She jerked and turned to him.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes.” She stood up, but she didn’t go to her valise. After a moment, she continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me about your brothers and how they never forgave you. I don’t want what Lord Wolfe did to my parents and what he tried to do to me make me bitter. I want to be free from all of that, but I’m having trouble forgiving him. I’m so angry at him that I don’t know what to do about it.”
“The anger won’t last forever. Some days will be easier than others, but some day in the future, you’ll wake up and realize you’re no longer angry. You can’t rush the process. It doesn’t happen right away. It’s going to take time. The important thing is that you’ve determined to forgive him. That is what will free you.”
“I wish it could be immediate.”
He brought her into his arms. “I do, too, but I promise even though it’s not going to be easy, it’ll be worth it. You’re doing this for our future. Forgiving him will free you to fully love those around you. You and I are going to be very happy together.”
“It’s no longer just the two of us. I wasn’t sure about it before, but now I know for sure that I’m expecting a child.”
He smiled. “You are?”
Her cheeks grew pink, and she gave him a shy smile. “I thought you might like hearing that.”
“I do. I can’t think of anything better to help us move on from all of the bad things that have happened. A baby will give us something good to look forward to.” He gave her a kiss. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, and they went to their luggage. He picked up the valise with the arm that wouldn’t aggravate his wound. It was still a little sore, but the doctor had assured him he would be fine. He went to the door and gestured for the butler to come in and pick up the trunk. He would have done it himself had he not been warned to watch how much he carried for the next few weeks. It was difficult to be waited on by the servants. He was looking forward to getting back to his cottage. Even if he had the title of a duke, it didn’t fit him.
At heart, he was a vicar, a simple man who would live a simple life. And that was exactly the way he wanted it. Perhaps his son would want to manage the title and the country estate that went with it. Julian had made sure there was enough money in the estate before he donated the rest of it to places that cared for widows and orphans.
He let her go out of the bedchamber first and followed her down the stairs. To his surprise, the servants were all lined up in the entryway. They offered a farewell and other well wishes to him and Ophelia. The footman was the last one in the line to do so.
On impulse, Julian put the valise down and hugged the footman. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, thankful for the man’s kindness.
“You, too, Your Grace,” the footman replied.
Julian released him, wished everyone a prosperous and happy life, and left the townhouse. His old carriage waited for him and Ophelia. It was a far cry from the nice one his brothers had owned, but it suited him and Ophelia just fine. All someone really needed was a roof over their head, food on their table, and clothes on their back. The other things weren’t a measure of happiness. True happiness was being content with what someone had, and with Ophelia, he couldn’t ask for more.
He helped Ophelia into the carriage then put their valise on the floor by her feet. The butler set the trunk in its proper place then thanked him for taking care of the staff.
Once the butler left, Julian asked Ophelia, “Do you want to see Lewis and Marcy one more time before we head out?”
She nodded. “Do you think they’ll mind?”
“I think they’d be disappointed if we didn’t see them again, especially when we can tell them some good news for a change.”
They’d already told Lewis and Marcy all about his brothers, Lord Wolfe, and Detective Hall yesterday. It’d be a nice change of pace to discuss children, especially since Marcy was also expecting a child. After all the deaths surrounding them, it was a relief to look forward to bringing new lives into the world.
With a smile, he shut the carriage door then got up on the driver’s seat to lead the horses to their friends’ residence.
***
A Year Later
Christmas Day
Ophelia sat by the fire with her four-month-old son, Hector. He was resting in her arms, his eyelids drooping as he was getting ready to take a nap. She had a warm blanket wrapped around both of them and was comfortable in the chair.
She was reading a book to him. Even though he was too young to understand the story, reading aloud offered her good practice. She read slower than Julian did, and she had to pause from time to time as she sounded out the harder words. There were a few words she didn’t know the meanings of, so she had to guess and move on. Overall, however, she was happy with her progress. It was nice to be able to pick up any book and find out what was in it.
The front door opened, and she stopped reading. Julian came into the cottage with an arm full of chopped wood. He came over to the fireplace and set the wood down in a neat stack.
He shivered and put his hands in front of the fire. “It’s going to get colder tonight. January’s definitely coming.”
Hector barely stirred in her arms. The poor baby must really be tired if he didn’t perk up at the sound of his father’s voice.
She chuckled and turned her gaze back to Julian. “You didn’t figure out it was almost January when you saw the calendar?”
Shooting her an amused look, he rose to his feet and shrugged out of his coat. “Just wait until we go to a cold church in January and February. No matter how much I try to heat the place up, the best I can ever get it at is a comfortable enough temperature where people’s teeth aren’t chattering all through the service.”
“I remember that from last year. I noticed you kept your sermons shorter during those months.”
“Well, I can’t have someone dying on me because I let the sermon go on too long.” He glanced at the kitchen. “It smells good in here. What are you making?”
“Stew, potatoes, and biscuits. I even made scones this time.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You finally took the chance on making those?”
“I figured it was time to stop letting fear dissuade me from doing it. The recipe turned out to be easier than I thought.”
“Can I have one now?”
Despite the hopeful expression on his face, she didn’t hide her disappointment. “What if you spoil your appetite?”
“We won’t have dinner for another hour. I’ll only have one.” When she sighed, he added, “I worked up a big appetite with cutting all that wood.”
“All right, but only eat one. I don’t want you to eat almost all of them like you did with the crumpets I made.”
“You should take my enthusiasm for your food as a compliment. I wouldn’t be eating so much if you weren’t any good at cooking.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I do appreciate the compliment. It’s nice to know I can cook well. I just want to make sure you have enough room in your stomach when it’s time for dinner. There have been a couple of times when you’ve been too full to finish everything on your plate. I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t make anything between meals.” Even if it did help her to have something to nibble on from time to time.
“I’ll take a scone from the kitchen and come out here so you can see that I’m only going to have one.”
He hurried to the kitchen before she could respond.
Hector let out a contented sigh in her arms, and she saw that he had finally fallen asleep.
Julian returned with the scone and showed it to her. “It was the smallest one I could find.”
“All right,” she replied. “That doesn’t look too big.”
He sat in the chair next to hers and put his feet up on the ottoman. Before he could take his first bite, there was a knock at the door. He glanced at her. “I hope nothing’s wrong with someone from the church. Christmas day should be the one day of the year where nothing bad happens.”
He set the scone on the ottoman and went to the door. Making sure not to disturb Hector, she was careful as she turned to see who was at the door.
To her surprise, Lewis and Marcy were there with their son, Valentine, who was about the same age as Hector. As Julian greeted them, Ophelia noticed they were with another couple, Mr. Stephen Bachman and his wife, Patricia, and their two children. Ophelia stood up from the chair and carried Hector to the door. The last time she’d seen Stephen and Patricia, Patricia hadn’t given birth yet. She was excited to find out if they had another girl or if they had a boy.
“We thought we’d invite you two over to our manor for dinner this evening,” Stephen offered as he held two-year-old Susanna in his arms.
Ophelia’s eyes went to the newborn in Patricia’s arms as Julian said, “Ophelia already started dinner.”
“So early in the day?” Stephen asked in surprise. “It won’t be dark for another couple of hours.”
“I presided over a sermon this morning,” Julian replied. “We ate breakfast early.”
“You’re welcome to join us,” Ophelia offered. “We’ll find a way to squeeze all of you in here.”
“If you don’t want to spoil your appetites, we can give you a small plate,” Julian added.
“I told you we should have invited them over sooner,” Lewis told Stephen.
“I wasn’t planning on having a dinner party until you and Marcy arrived,” Stephen replied. “It doesn’t seem right to have one without inviting them since we’re all friends.”
The newborn let out a cry, and Ophelia waved for them to come in. “You might as well come in and warm up. There’s no sense in standing out in the cold.”
They all came into the cottage. Julian and Ophelia had never had both couples over at the same time before. The place seemed much smaller with everyone in it. She glanced at the coachman and footman who were waiting with the two carriages. There was no way she could fit them into the cottage with everyone else.
“This isn’t going to work,” Stephen said for her. “We’re too cramped in here. I’m just going to offer a formal invite to a dinner party. We’ll do it on a day when you don’t have a sermon to do.”
“Now that the Christmas sermon is done, I only do them on Sundays,” Julian replied.
“Then we can do next week.” Marcy suggested as she shifted her son to her other hip. “What do you think?”
Julian glanced at Ophelia, who nodded. “We’ll be happy to be there.”
“Before you go,” Ophelia began, directing her question to Stephen and Patricia, “who’s the new member of your family?”
Patricia smiled. “Cordelia. She was born last week.”
“She’s almost exactly two years younger than Susanna,” Stephen added. “Had she come two days earlier, she would have the same birthday as her big sister.”
“You were hoping for that, weren’t you?” Patricia asked.
Stephen shrugged. “It would have been easier to remember their birthdays if they were born on the same day.”
“Yes, but it would have been a shame for both of them to have to share the celebration of their births on the same day,” Lewis said. “It’s better this way. They can have their own special day.”
“I suppose.” Though Stephen rolled his eyes, Ophelia caught the smile on his lips. “All right. We’ll see you next week. Come by at four. That will give us plenty of time to play games and talk before we eat,” he told Julian and Ophelia.
As the couples left the cottage with their children, Ophelia asked, “Don’t you want something to eat or drink before you leave?”
“We appreciate the offer, but we can wait,” Stephen replied. “My manor isn’t too far from here.”
Ophelia waited until Julian shut the door before sighing in disappointment. “If I’d known they were going to come over to invite us to a dinner party, I wouldn’t have started dinner.”
“They understand why we said no.”
“I know they understood it.” She sat back down, surprised Hector hadn’t woken up through all of that. “It would have been nice to spend an evening with them. I like them.”
Julian tucked the blanket around her and their son. “I like them, too. We always have a good time together.” He returned to his chair and picked up the scone from the ottoman. “But sometimes it’s nice when it’s just the two of us, too.”
Unable to resist teasing him, she gave a reluctant shrug.
His eyes grew wide. “You do like it when we’re alone, don’t you?”
“I suppose.” When he frowned, she laughed. “I’m just jesting. Of course, I do. I love you.”
He made a big show of relaxing. “Good. I’d hate to think you’re bored of me.”
“Boredom is no problem. I can always read a book.”
He’d almost been ready to bite into his scone but lowered it and directed his full attention to her.
She laughed again. Hector squirmed in her arms, so she made herself stop. “You mustn’t take everything so seriously, Julian. I’m not bored with you. You’re delightful company. You’ll recall that I stopped reading when you came into this cottage.”
He relaxed. “It’s not good to tease your husband like that. He’s likely to worry about the state of his marriage if he has to wonder whether or not his wife is happy.” He ate his scone.
“I’m very happy. I can’t imagine being with anyone but you.”
He smiled. “Good. And I feel the same way about you.”
“I’m sorry I worried you. To show you I mean it, I’ll let you have two scones instead of one before dinner.”
“You’re fortunate I am so easily pleased. Other husbands might have required more from their wives.” He stood up and gave her a kiss. “But I’m a kind husband and will bring you a scone to eat as well.”
“And this is why I love you as much as I do,” she replied.
He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, gave his son a pat on the head, and then went to the kitchen to get them both a scone.