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“Yes. Tomorrow would be wonderful – although perhaps Belling and Lina will not be very happy, to have to pack everything for us, so fast.”
“I am sure that they will cope – after all, they are very efficient. And I simply can’t wait to run away with you, to have a holiday from all responsibility, with nothing to do but love you, and think about music.”
Epilogue
“I absolutely refuse to get into a carriage until late enough in the day that I have ceased to feel disgustingly ill. So we will depart Bath after midday tomorrow. I do not care that it means we will have to stay in an Inn overnight, halfway home.”
Iris, prepared to defend her demands, had found herself laughing instead, when Leon simply shrugged, and bowed in a very theatrical manner.
“As my Lady commands.”
They had stayed in Bath far longer than they had intended, both for sheer enjoyment, despite their need to wear mourning clothes still, and because they had met the Earl of Westmoreland who, it turned out, had grand plans for creating a National Academy of Music. That meeting had led to many more, and many long discussions, which would likely change the path of their lives forever, should his plans come to fruition.
Every day had been a joy, and she was quite certain that she was increasing. The sickness in the mornings was a rather tell-tale sign.
Now, in the early afternoon of the next day, she settled into the carriage, glad that the queasiness had passed. On the seat opposite them, their new harp was settled, wrapped in cloths and tied into place. It was, she thought with amusement, even more fragile than she was.
Soon, they were moving, and she allowed herself to lean against Leon, who slipped his arm around her and held her as she drifted into sleep. She woke as they slowed, turning into an Innyard, just as the last late gold of the dusk turned to the rich blue-violet that presages night.
The Innkeeper greeted them with enthusiasm, and provided a large suite of rooms, with enough space for Belling and Lina too and, after an excellent meal, she gratefully fell into the surprisingly comfortable bed with Leon. She fell asleep soon after, with his hand resting gently on the curve of her stomach.
>>>
Leon woke to the sound of Iris retching. The light through the edge of the shutters suggested that it was early still, but he could hear the sound of activity in the innyard below. He pushed himself up out of the bed, pulled a banyan around him, and took a glass of water to Iris as she sat back from retching.
“I will be so glad when this stage of the process is over! Why am I not as lucky as Camellia? She was barely ill at all!”
“I am told that it is different for each woman, my love, but that it rarely lasts past the first few months.”
“This retching cannot end soon enough!”
“I agree. Shall I send for some simple food? Will that help, or make it worse?”
“I do not know, but it is worth doing, in case it does help.”
The food was duly sent for, and Lina roused to help her dress and restore herself to a semblance of normal. Leon left them to it, allowing Belling to dress him, even while the valet muttered about the impossibility of keeping garments uncrushed when travelling.
The food, it turned out, did not help. So they sat in their private parlour and read, until the point in the day when Iris declared movement a safe possibility. In truth, Leon did not mind – to travel slowly like this was a new experience, and rather pleasant.
Once they were on the road, his mind went to what would be waiting for them at home. The echoes of the old dread still rose in his mind, and he had to remind himself that Maggie was gone, that there would be no scenes, no dragging grief of watching her suffer. He was not glad to have lost a sister, but he was beyond glad that she no longer suffered.
Greenleigh Park would be welcoming, and calm. That thought was, all by itself, exciting. He imagined the harp in the music room, imagined how the new pianoforte, of the very latest design, would look when it arrived, and he imagined how the nursery would look, once it was completed.
Mrs Withercombe would be so in alt at the idea of a baby to care for soon. That made him smile – she deserved the chance to be happy again too, and she had always been happiest when caring for young children.
He leant back into the corner of the seat and the carriage wall, with Iris leaning against him, and allowed himself to drift into sleep, lulled by the rumble of the carriage wheels on the earth of the road.
>>>
Home.
Iris savoured the word as it rose in her mind.
She was home.
Greenleigh Park glowed with the lamplight from its windows, a welcoming beacon in the last of the summer twilight. No trace of fear remained within her at the sight of it – only a deep-seated happiness, and the certainty that this was where she was supposed to be.
She pushed herself up to sit straight, leaving Leon still dozing, leaning against the wall, and watched the house as they approached. The scent of roses came to her as they turned onto the gravel of the forecourt, and she breathed deeply of the still warm summer air. The carriage slowed, and Leon woke, sitting up and reaching for her hand. She twined her fingers with his, and they simply sat, watching. Of course, as soon as they stopped, that peacefulness was shattered by the bustle of getting down from the carriage, of the harp and their other luggage being unloaded, and of the staff all finding reasons to be in a position to welcome them home.
