Memories, page 22
“That’s very kind.” It was. Holbrook knew the truth about him no matter how hard he’d tried to dissemble.
“Augustus is adamant he will try and get Denton back. He has set out to find the new owners and speak to them. They may be willing to sell it back to you, I don’t know, but if they do, at least you have the money to pay for it. I told Augustus if they want more for their trouble then he should offer it.”
“Thank you. What will happen to Eleanor?”
Holbrook’s face tightened. He looked back down at the blotter and put the knife down, carefully positioning it this way and that until he was happy with it. “She will travel for a little while and then settle somewhere with a small staff in the countryside.”
“You will lead separate lives?”
Holbrook looked up. “After what she did? Most definitely.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Holbrook shook his head. “I’m relieved. I should never have married her.” He fiddled with the knife a little more. “Marsden or Allardyce, or whatever he is called, has asked for Araminta’s hand.”
“So I believe.” Dearne had to smile at Will and Araminta’s audacious plan.
“She will be…cared for…won’t she?”
“With my life. Araminta was like a mother to me. Her happiness will always be foremost in my mind; of that you can be sure.” Dearne hesitated. “You and Augustus will always be welcome in our home,” he said and held his breath.
Holbrook nodded. And nodded again, glancing up at him.
Dearne breathed, and nodded back.
Epilogue
Three months later
Will stood at the altar and watched his bride-to-be walk down the aisle in her best dress, carrying a posy of flowers, with Rose as her maid of honour. Dearne stood by his side as his best man, resplendent in full military dress. All four of them had come into the church early that morning, and when no-one was about, Will and Dearne had whispered their love, devotion, and lifelong commitment, in vows Will knew he would honour to the grave. Araminta and Rose whispered their vows to each other, with happy, tear-filled voices, and all four of them had held each other’s hands and vowed to support and love each other, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.
Dearne’s shoulder was touching his as they watched Araminta, the woman who had turned out to be the best friend he had ever known, walk down to marry him. His father was there, along with his new betrothed, a pretty young girl who seemed to quietly adore him. Holbrook was there, looking grim, but beside him was the man he loved, and before him, the woman with whom he would make a home for all four of them. He had relented and accepted a property from his father on the east coast, nice and secluded, just like Denton had been. There, he would make a home, farm the land, and settle down. As they were now a respectable married couple, they would be able to have company, friends, and a relatively normal, if not quiet, life. Araminta would be mistress of her own home. It seemed the best all around, and it meant he had been able to secure the future financially for Araminta, Dearne, and Rose as rightful heir to the Earl of Sutton.
They stood side by side as they repeated their vows, Dearne at his side, Rose at Araminta’s side. They had politely ignored the vicar’s gesture for their chief attendants to stand back, so he had continued with them standing in a row. If anyone noticed the groom briefly touched fingers with his best man, or the bride touched fingers with her maid of honour at certain points in the ceremony, nobody mentioned it.
Later, as they sipped champagne at the wedding breakfast, Will enquired about the man who had accompanied Augustus to the wedding. They had stood together in church. The man was tall and handsome in a somewhat hawkish, watchful way, but some years older than Augustus with rather dashing silvery grey hair.
His wife smiled slyly. “He is a Mr. Cross. Apparently the new owner of Denton. Augustus has been…ah…persuading him to sell it back to the family.”
Will raised his eyebrows. “Persuading?”
“Persuading.” She nodded and hid her smile as she sipped her champagne. “Are you looking forward to your wedding night?” she asked, looking over at Rose.
“Lord, yes.”
“Then let us make a move. Rose will help me get ready, and Maxie will help you. Aren’t they kind,” she said with a wicked smile.
Will caught Dearne’s gaze from across the room. He raised his champagne glass, and Dearne raised his with a suggestion of a wink. Will knew he would remember this day for the rest of his life. From now on, there would be new memories to make for both of them which would push away the memories of the past and create new ones for the memories Dearne had lost. He’d be lying if he said his demons had all gone, they hadn’t, but with Dearne by his side, as his anchor into the present, Will knew he had found his place in the world.
THE END
ABOUT RUBY MOONE
Ruby lives in Lancashire in the northwest of England. All through school she was told that she would never get anywhere if she didn’t stop daydreaming. Eventually it occurred to her to write down the daydreams, and voilà! The beautiful men in her head came to life.
Ruby writes historical and contemporary gay romance but has a definite weakness for handsome men in billowing white shirts, breeches, and cravats. Oh, and she loves tea. Lots of tea.
For more information, visit rubymoone.com.
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Ruby Moone, Memories
