A Baron for Becky

Epilogue

Home was best.

London had been a triumph, and Becky had thoroughly enjoyed the house party at Longford Court afterwards, as had the girls. The weather was glorious, the schoolroom on holiday, and the visiting families mustered nearly two score of children between them. The nursery floor was crowded to overflowing, and Lady Daisy Redepenning was promoted to a second-floor bedchamber which she shared with Sophie, Sarah and Antonia.

Indeed, Sophie and Sarah were upstairs this minute writing letters to those dear friends. And Belle had wept when parted from Lady Mary Redepenning, a spare three months her junior. But home was best. The girls had erupted from the house this morning to rush around the garden, reclaiming their favourite play places. Becky sympathised. She might not shout and run, but she found herself moving around the house, running her hand along the back of the chairs in the parlour, reordering the flowers in the bowl in the hall, straightening an ornament here and a cushion there.

The parlour needed no more attention than any other room, but she twitched a fringe on a tablecloth, shaped the carvings at the side of the mantelpiece with her finger, and tucked a rose more firmly into the bowl of flowers on the sideboard.

Becky was startled by an unexpected noise. Snuffling behind the curtain proved to be a miserable little girl, curled up on the cushioned seat in the deep window embrasure.

"Belle, baby, whatever is the matter?" She swept her daughter onto her lap. At three and a half, Lady Isabelle Overton normally strongly objected to being called 'baby,' and Becky measured the child's distress by her willingness to overlook her mother's slip of the tongue.

"The big girls told me not to bother them, Mama," Belle complained, "and I miss Mary."

"We shall invite her to visit, dearest. And when you learn your letters you will write to her."

"But that will be forever," wailed the child.

"I know! I shall find you some paper and you shall draw her a picture!"

When Hugh joined them they were at her desk in his study, Becky leafing through a pile of correspondence, Belle working intently on a drawing for her friend that looked like a collection of misshapen blotches, but was really, so Belle said, an image of the carriage that had brought them home.

"Becky, my love, I thought I'd ride out. Just for a look around." Becky smiled. Hugh, too, felt the need to circle his estate and reassure himself that home was still home.

"Take Belle?" she suggested. Lord Chirbury rode out most days with his son and heir. The Earl's tenants had known their future lord and master since he was old enough to perch on the saddle before his father, and at nearly seven, young Viscount Longford already expressed opinions about the wool clip and the wheat harvest.

"The Overton tenants should get to know their future lady, Hugh."

Hugh chuckled, and ran an affectionate hand over his daughter's head, who brushed it away, intent on her drawing. "She need not worry about the estate, Becky. We shall find her a good husband, when the time comes."

What a typically male thing to say. "Belle will be the baroness, Hugh. In her own right. She will be responsible for passing on the title and the estate, intact and improved, to her children. Belle. Not her husband."

Hugh looked wary, as well he might. "I only meant..."

"Do you think women are less competent than men?"

"No, but..."

"Or less intelligent?"

Hugh shook his head. "Definitely not."

"More fragile, perhaps?" she asked, sweetly. "Or do you believe your daughter less capable than Lord Chirbury's son?"

Hugh spread his hands in defeat.

"Very well. I surrender. You are right, heart of my heart. You are the least fragile person I know. And you and I working together run this estate and the mill better than ever I could on my own. We shall train our daughter. Though, what the tenants will make of it, I do not know." He turned to the little girl.

"Lady Isabelle Overton, is today a good day for your first lesson in how to be a baroness?"

Belle looked up at the use of her full name, eyes slowly refocusing. "Papa?" she asked, not sure what he was asking.

"Would you care to ride with your Papa, my sweet?" he asked.

With the little girl on one arm, Hugh stopped to give his wife a fierce hug. "We will not go far today, Becky."

He brought Belle home two hours later, tired but starry eyed, chattering so fast about what she and Papa had done and seen, and who they had met, Becky could only understand one word in three.

"Belle seemed to enjoy herself," she said to Hugh, as she finished dressing for dinner, and he lounged against the wall of her dressing room to watch.

"We visited the Turners and the Wilsons, and we met up with Mrs Dean and her son bringing in the cows. They love her already, Becky. They all knew about the Letters Patent, and they are as happy as we."

She smiled at his image in the mirror. "I am so glad, Hugh."

"Do you know why?" She turned to face him, and shook her head.

"Turner told me. He said she is the image of you, Becky, and if she grows up to be just like you, then Overton is safe for another generation."

Becky's smile widened into a grin, and she held her hands out to her husband, blinking away happy tears.

He bridged the gap for a kiss that lingered and deepened, leaving her breathless. The physical attraction between them was never far below the surface. The lightest touch, even a look, reminded them of the joys they found in one another. Another kiss and they would be late for dinner. And not for the first time. The cook would not be amused.

Hugh's next words sealed the cook's fate. "I agree with Turner. I hope Belle grows up to be just like you. I am so proud to be your husband, Becky."

Becky opened her arms to her baron. There would be other dinners.

THE END

I have other stories on Wattpad. 'The Raven's Lady' is a story in my collection, Hand-Turned Tales, available free from most e-retailers. It tells of a man who finds that his boyhood sweetheart is the smuggler he has been sent to catch. 

'All That Glisters' is the next story in the collection. 'All That Glisters' is set in New Zealand in the 1860s, when gold miners poured into the fledgling settlement of Dunedin. Rose is unhappy in the household of her fanatical uncle, but Thomas, a young merchant from Canada, offers a glimpse of another possible life, if she is brave enough to reach for it.  

Other stories from the collection are 'Kidnapped to Freedom', which tells the story of an escaping slave and a privateer with a secret, and 'The Prisoners of Wyvern Castle'.

In 'Prisoners of Wyvern Castle', a young blind earl is forced to wed a stranger. When he discovers that his bride has also been coerced into the marriage, they find love. But can they find freedom before it is too late?

And my friend Mariana Gabrielle and I are posting the Victorian novel we are cowriting: Never Kiss a Toad. Young rake David 'Toad' Northope loves Lady Sarah Grenford, and she loves him. But when they are caught together in bed, their parents send him to university in France, and her into her first Season. Will their love survive separation, treachery, and the efforts of their parents?