Extended Epilogue
2 years later
Hester walked carefully down the hill towards the village church of Petworth. She walked carefully because the large bump at the front of her made her feel ungainly and top-heavy. Dorian walked beside her and she hung on his arm.
“We should take the trap. It would be safer,” he said for the tenth time.
“On a day like this? We should be walking! It is better for me and the baby,” Hester assured him with a smile, “it will just take me a little longer is all.”
The sun shone warmly and the ground was dry and hard underfoot. She was not concerned about stumbling but Dorian was a very nervous expectant father. He wanted to protect her against the slightest breath of wind lest it chill her or the unborn baby. She loved him for his doting concern but could not bear another day of… protection. Besides, she had promised Marianne this visit. Had promised it on more than one occasion and been forced to cancel. Now, she was determined to see it through. For the sake of her old friend and the children. Those children were assembled in the churchyard. They were combed and washed, standing in a line with the vicar at one end and their proud schoolmistress at the other. Marianne was that schoolmistress and the young vicar—her husband of two months.
She started forward, stepping through the gate and then hurrying up the hill to meet her old friend. When she reached them, she embraced Hester carefully and kissed her cheek.
“You have more pupils than I would have imagined in a place like this,” Dorian commented after receiving her formal curtsy and informal embrace.
“They come from all the surrounding villages and this is just today’s class. There are four others, each attending school for one day of the week. We take only those whose mothers or fathers are working people. Farmers, laborers, and the like. The children who otherwise wouldn’t get a chance.”
“You don’t have to persuade me. We are both proud to be patrons,” Dorian laughed.
“I can’t move very quickly I’m afraid, but tell the children I can’t wait to meet them if they don’t mind being patient,” Hester giggled.
Marianne took her free arm and showed just as much concern as Dorian as she helped Hester the rest of the way.
“Thank the heavens you made it today. They can’t wait to hear you read from your new children’s book,” Marianne began, “And I don’t think I’d have been able to put up with another day of them bugging me about it. They have been enthralled with your stories since I started reading to them. And who would have thought that my volunteering to read to the little ones would lead me to a husband of my very own,” she added with a smile.
Marianne had volunteered to stay on at Petworth at the DeVere cottage, helping to run the Sunday school there. The old vicar had passed away and his replacement was young and handsome. He had quickly fallen under the spell of his beautiful young assistant. Hester had been sad when Marianne told her she wanted to stay at Petworth but overjoyed at the news that she had found love. For weeks, she had been excited to meet Marianne’s husband, the Reverend John Phillips. Now the day had finally arrived. A day snatched from Dorian’s work in Parliament, an emerging leader of a new liberal group within Westminster, seeking reform for the working men and women of Britain. A day snatched from the demands of her publishers, always seeking new latest works for publication. Whether that be poetry, stories for children, or romantic escapades for adults. The name of Hester Fairchild was being feted in London, Paris, Rome, and even as far away as New York. The Audley heiress had captured the public imagination. An author who refused to deny her femininity as many female authors did. Refused to use a male pseudonym. A woman who spoke out for other women regardless of rank or class and was supported by her doting husband.
The day passed blissfully for Hester and Dorian. The sun shone on them and the children. There were tears between Marianne and Hester when the time came to say goodbye. But both knew it was only a passing circumstance. They would see each other again as soon as they were able. She finally accepted the carriage which Dorian had sent for, exhausted by the day. As it carried them north to Middleton Hall, she sat nestled in her husband’s arms. He placed his hand protectively over her stomach and she put her hand upon his. The familiar countryside of Oxfordshire was soon visible in the gathering twilight. Through the coach’s window, she could see Aston Hill looming before them and knew that Maiden’s Tower was somewhere up there on its summit.
The place where she had finally revealed her true identity to Dorian. The place where their love had truly begun.
“Do you ever hear from your aunt or uncle?” he asked.
“Not directly. Cousin Selina writes to me regularly. She had had her debut and is living at the family’s London residence. She wants to be an author like me.”
“I wager that sticks in her father’s craw,” Dorian smirked.
Hester laughed. “She is a sweet girl and one of great promise. Uncle Timothy is a greedy, venal old man, but his ambitions have been stymied. Between being denied any more of my parent’s money and your rise in Westminster, he has lost any influence he had. I almost feel sorry for him.”
She remembered the blow that had scarred her shoulder and added. “Almost.”
“We will not think of them. I’m sorry I asked,” Dorian apologized, taking her hand delicately in his.
“What of cousin Melcombe? Is that just as miserable a subject?”
“Not a bit of it. Since he left for the colonies… excuse me, for the United States, I think he has found his calling. He wrote to me only last week to say that he has taken citizenship there, giving up his title, and is running for political office. I wished him well and offered him my support. For whatever an English politician’s support is worth to an American. I think he has turned a corner. He actually apologized to me. Begged my forgiveness. He had a miserable childhood, driven by a beastly father to covet Middleton. He is a changed man.”
“A happy ending for him then. I am glad,” Hester murmured, snuggling deeper into her husband’s embrace.
She felt safe and protected.
The girl who had wondered what the world beyond Goddington was like had now seen more of it than she ever dared dream of. She remembered standing beneath a tree, shivering and wet, realizing that Arthur would not be coming to meet her. She had felt betrayed and alone. That seemed a distant memory now. One she did not regret for it had helped to make her who she was. It had been a stepping stone to her life in the arms of the man she loved. A man who now loved her for who she truly was. The man she had been destined to love, though she did not know it at the time. The man who had been destined to love her. They returned to Middleton, leaving the past behind and heading into their future, together.