Epilogue

Wolferton enjoyed the familial scene played out in front of him. The warm morning breeze filtered through the stone veranda highlighting his wife’s hair, disturbing a curl or two, and brought back memories of the night before when they made love for several hours to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. His passion never ceased. The most fortunate of men, she still responded to his advances with the eagerness of a first night lover. Where had the time gone?

Because Jaclyn did have an interest for most things Turkish, he decided to surprise her with a visit to Pera, Turkey, outside of Istanbul. They were at his favorite hotel where surprisingly the staff remembered him.

He enjoyed staring at his wife, even after the years of their marriage. She gazed at him and that smile he so loved told a story as joy bubbled in her laughter as she played games with their two children and the governess. Hiding behind bushes and then ambushing their mother who begged for mercy. Jaclyn was their pretend prisoner and the children were pirates who demanded ransom.

The Marquess was the captain and little Lady Camilla enjoyed the role of co-captain. Wolferton laughed contentedly at their antics, but the dreamy expression on his wife’s face pleased him. The four-year old boy, and the three-year-old girl, were busy searching out corners to hide and tease the nurse they so cherished. Then when she pretended to cry, both stomped out and ran into her arms.

Withdrawing from the embrace, Little Radolf ran to his father and Camilla embraced her mother. “I set you free, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, my darling. You were gentle. Come taste the baklava and honey-drenched desserts. They are as sweet as you are.”

His son wore his toy sword on his belt, and having spied the tin soldiers on the table, pretended he was the commandant of the tin soldiers. “Papa, come play. I’ll lead and you can follow me.” Such a joyous grin escaped as the boy brandished his sword.

Wolferton couldn’t be happier, for Jaclyn was in a family way again. In three days time, they would leave for England. The new addition to the family was unexpected and Wolferton wanted to be home where he could assure she would get the best medical care.

Under a tent, the breeze cooled. Wolferton reached to his wife and held her hand. He had found his peace at last. “I love you, my dearest,” he whispered with a bold grand smile. “I’ve never been happier, but I worry about our trip home.”

“Posh, I’m as strong as a…red wolf,” she joked.

Out of the corner of his eye, a boy with dark red hair and blue eyes, about ten or eleven years old, he guessed, stood in the distance holding on to his mother’s hand. When the woman turned, he thought he recognized Yasmin. He blinked and the pair disappeared. He left it as a figment of his imagination and the memories of the lovely country. Of course, the mother and boy weren’t there. Yet, a strange sensation crept up his spine. He determined nothing would disturb their happiness and took another sip of a lemonade liqueur.

This place in Turkey held many memories—good and bad. His mind played tricks on him, but he dismissed it as a wayward thought of his past. Wolferton would not allow anything, or anyone, to threaten his happiness with his wife and children.

Yet, if he cared to admit it, he held a major curiosity about the little boy. To him, Turkey remained a country of wonder, mystery, and strange happenings. He learned a long time ago not to seek answers to questions that weren’t asked.