The Unknowing Heiress

Epilogue

“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.” Frank Herbert. 

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Epilogue

One Year Later

August, 1842

 

Maggie anxiously waited in the drawing room at Ascot with her nose pressed up against the glass. She was looking out for a carriage, a very special carriage in particular.

“A watched pot never boils,” murmured Rebecca, who sounded quite amused.

Maggie turned to Rebecca who sat on the settee with her husband, Sir James Spencer. Rebecca was absently cradling her swollen stomach. She was seven months alone with their first child.

The last time she had seen Max was at Rebecca’s wedding seven months earlier and he was due home any minute.

After they had returned home from America, they both had decided to make the most of their youth before they committed to marriage. For Max, this meant travelling to London to try his hand at impressing a master. Max had always been opposed to this idea, but Maggie had convinced him that he would never have the chance again when they were married with children.

Max had left for London the day after Rebecca’s wedding and had impressed very quickly. His master, a celebrated French artist named Henri Conté, had introduced Max to his friends at court.

Max subsequently became the youngest man to ever commissioned to paint an official portrait of a sovereign. Of course, the painting was not yet complete, but Max had sketched the Queen and was returning to Ascot to finish her portrait.  

But he was expected home today and Maggie could not wait to see him.

“Of course, I am just so excited,” said Maggie as she sat down opposite the newlyweds.

Maggie had been cautious of Sir James Spencer when she had first heard that he and Rebecca were engaged. Rebecca had been so determined to remain unmarried. But she could see why she had fallen in love with him. He was a very handsome gentleman who came from a very respectable family. James had inherited his father’s baronetcy upon his death and had used the income to rent Salisbury Hall from Ascot. Rebecca very much liked being the mistress of her own house. At the wedding, Maggie had met all but one of James’ four brothers. The Spencer sons had ventured into the respectable law and clergy professions, while the youngest and fifth son was serving in the British army. Simon, James’ youngest brother, was apparently James’ favourite and he had been very disappointed that he could not attend the wedding.

But, like other people that she had been suspicious of in the beginning, James had proven himself a very good and devoted husband and he had bonded well with their overly involved family. He soon learned that privacy was not an option in the Wilde-Swift family.

Maggie placed her hands in her lap. As she did, her hand brushed over the letter that sat in her pocket. Maggie had forgotten that she had received it that morning. In her haste to get to Ascot, she had not opened it.

It was the latest news from the Jacques’ in Quebec. Janna had made it to Canada and she had found Daniel Jackson working as a blacksmith. He had welcomed her back with open arms and they had married immediately. Together, to avoid detection from Janna’s father, they had adopted the French versions of their names. They were now known as Danniell and Jeana Jacques and, from what Maggie could decipher, they were happy.