Celia (A Sinclair Society Novella)

Epilogue

Two months later

"Harper has written," Horace announced as he entered my sitting room.

"Oh?" I kept my eyes on the baby gown I was sewing together. My ire with my husband's friend might have eased since he'd left Clarendon, but I wasn't particularly interested in what he was doing.

"It seems his path has crossed with your former maid, Julie Nelson."

Alarm shot through me as I lifted my gaze. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at me but he was focused on the paper in his hand. "Has he? What a small world," I managed to say. "Was he irritated? I know he had a poor opinion of her when he was here."

"He certainly appeared to, didn't he?"

What did he mean by that? I was briefly reminded of the concern I'd seen from Mr. Harper when he'd found Juliet injured. Had I been correct when I'd teased Juliet about him being enamored with her?

"Apparently, she saved his life," Horace continued.

Astonished, I stared at him. I'd had a letter from Juliet the week before and she had mentioned nothing about even meeting Mr. Harper. What had happened where she would be in the position to save the man's life?

What secret was she keeping now?

"I hope he was grateful," I remarked. "He didn't seem appreciative of her help over the summer."

Horace chuckled. "Well, no one likes to be shown up." He folded up his letter and sat down next to me. A moment later, his hand was wrapped around mine. "He actually spoke quite highly of your Nelson and her quick wit."

"She never would have learned what she did if she didn't have some intelligence," I pointed out. As soon as Horace left me, I resolved to write to my friend at once. What could she be up to now?

My husband made a sound that could have meant anything. He leaned over to put his head against my stomach. "And how is my daughter this morning?" he asked.

"Sleeping at the moment," I responded with a laugh. "And I hope you haven't set your heart on it being a girl. It could be a boy, you know."

"I refuse to believe that. No child of ours would ever give my mother that kind of satisfaction," he declared. "I'm glad she has gone to Brighton. Hopefully, she'll stay there until winter."

It had been a wonderful two months. The dowager had only lasted a week at the dower house before she set off to visit friends. Who knew when she would return? I wouldn't object if she decided to stay away for good. The indignity of the dower house might be too much for her.

The baby growing in me kicked, making Horace start. "Serves you right. You woke your daughter," I said with a laugh. "And a gentleman should know better than to disturb a lady at rest."

"Hush. You're going to get me in trouble," Horace said to my stomach. He straightened up and pressed a quick kiss on my lips. "Am I forgiven?"

I wound my arms around his neck to keep him in place. "Not yet, but I might be persuaded to forgive you," I informed him.