Four Years Later…

Gabriel stood on the garden terrace, watching his three year-old-son, James, running about the green expanse of the lawn. Love swelled within his heart as his son’s eyes sought him out, and Gabriel waved, smiling in reassurance. Content that his father was watching over him, James returned to his play. 

He has his mother’s fearless spirit and my father’s laugh, Gabriel noted as his son chased after a dragonfly with exuberant abandon. The baby in Gabriel’s arms stretched and yawned, snuggling deeper into Gabriel’s chest. Smiling, he looked down into the sweet little face of his infant daughter, Charlotte, now six months old. She looked back at him with serious gray eyes that made his heart melt.

The sound of pounding hooves drew Gabriel’s attention to the woods beyond, where Dorothea emerged from the trees on the back of Aurora, with her foal, Hope, by her side. Hope had grown into a beautiful mare and the fastest racehorse in three counties. Dorothea’s joy was resplendent as she raced across the lawn, her hair streaming in the wind behind her. She no longer raced publicly for money, but she rode on the estate every day. She had even founded a riding school for young ladies that had scandalized the more conservative members of society but brought her great joy.

“Your mother is a magnificent woman, Charlotte. We are very fortunate indeed to have her love in our lives,” he murmured with pride.

“James, be careful there. Do not eat that,” Gabriel’s mother’s voice filtered up to him.

Gabriel turned his eyes back to his son, who had managed to smear his clothes with dirt, a fistful of which he was contemplating with curious eyes. A suspicious smear across his lips and cheek said that he had already sampled the earth’s wares and was considering a repeat performance. Cecily and Thomas’s four-year-old daughter, Rose, was looking at her cousin as if he had lost his mind. The two were constant companions, as Cecily and Thomas had set up house in the stablemaster’s cottage on the estate. Thomas worked tirelessly with Dorothea to improve their racing stock, while Cecily enjoyed a quieter life away from the drama and judgment of the ton. While grandchildren had softened Dorothea and Cecily’s parents, it had not been an easy transition for the Prescott family.

“James, no!” Sighing, the dowager countess rose from her chair in front of the canvas she had been painting and went to discourage any further consumption of dirt. Gabriel smiled as he watched the scene, gratitude filling his heart. His mother’s mind was now clear, and she had regained much of her former health. It was a blessing to see her taking an active role in the raising of her grandchildren.

A clatter in the house behind him alerted Gabriel to the arrival of his brother’s family. 

“Gabriel,” Edward’s voice called out as he emerged onto the terrace, his two-year-old son in his arms. 

Edward’s wife Margaret, a wealthy widow of quick wit and clever humor, appeared behind him with a happy smile on her lips. She and Edward were well suited. Gabriel could not have picked a more perfect bride for his brother if he had searched the whole of England.

“Edward, Margaret, it is wonderful to see you both looking so well,” Gabriel greeted them. He walked over to brush his nephew’s cheek with his finger. “And how are you this fine day, young Archibald?” 

His nephew giggled and wriggled in his father’s arms at the attention. He reached out a hand for Charlotte’s and gave her a gentle little pat of affection.

“I have news from London,” Edward announced as he set his son down upon the terrace to waddle about under the watchful eye of his mother. “Sir Reginald still resides in prison. Due to his noble status, the magistrate could neither bring himself to execute the man nor to transport him, so he remains at his majesty’s pleasure.”

“I assumed as much,” Gabriel replied, the piece of information not really news.

As if he could read his brother’s mind, Edward continued. “But that is not my news. As you know, due to your promised words on her behalf, Lady Cassandra was released, and her family exiled her from England, sending her to the continent. She has moved about over the years. Vienna, Paris, Rome…The scandal that she created here appears to have followed her wherever she went within society. News reached me just before coming here that the lady in question has disappeared from society altogether and has embarked on a ship to the Americas.”

“The Americas?” Gabriel’s brows rose in surprise. “The Lady Cassandra that I knew would never have removed herself from society in such a fashion, deeming the Americas to be too provincial for her liking.”

“Apparently, having scandal follow you wherever you might go changes a person,” Edward noted dryly. “When you abduct a fellow noblewoman in a fit of jealous rage, other noblewomen are not prone to trusting you.”

Gabriel nodded grimly. “Indeed. Perhaps settling in a place where no one knows who she is or what she has done will allow her to create a better character for herself, that may one day lead her to live a better life.”

“One can hope,” Edward murmured. “As long as she stays away from our family.”

“Here, here,” Gabriel agreed. “In truth, I do not think of either of them often now. It is as if they are shadows that move on the periphery of my vision, there but no longer relevant to our lives. We will never forget what they have done, or the permanent mark that it has left upon our hearts, but no matter how dark their deeds, they could not remove the light that is the Ravensmoor legacy.” 

The brothers exchanged a look of understanding born of shared experience, then turned to watch their beautiful family as they played in the loving light of an English summer day, with hope for the future foremost in their hearts. 

THE END

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