A Lady’s Seaside Dream – Extended Epilogue

Jillian looked up as her father came into the room. He walked slowly but with a definite firmness that he had lacked in earlier years. She smiled up at him.

“Have you seen my spectacles?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Papa. Did you leave them on the table?” she asked, pointing to the big round table in the drawing-room. He walked over slowly and she heard him exclaim with evident relief.

“There they are. I did leave them there. Now, I can go and finish that letter. There’s a lot of letters need writing.”

Jillian smiled. “I’m sure there are,” she said. She had been reading and, when he went out, she reached for her novel again. She looked up as she heard more footsteps. This time it was Jeremy. He smiled.

“Sweetling!” he greeted her, walking to the chair and taking her hand. “It’s grand to see you. Shall we go up and check on Jackie?”

“Yes, let’s do that,” Jillian agreed. “I was just reading my book.”

“I must finish mine. You gave me that copy of Rosseau. I always have trouble with the French works.”

Jillian giggled. “I shouldn’t have bought it when we’re both going to find it so challenging.”

He laughed. “Well, I am glad to hear it. I thought it was just me.”

“No, not at all,” she smiled, and looped her arm through his. They walked together out of the room and up the stairs towards the nursery.

The crib where Jackie slept was by the fireplace, and the nurse, Mrs. Avery, looked up as they came into the room.

“Is he awake?” Jillian asked softly.

“He is,” Mrs. Avery said. “Woke up a minute or two ago. Must have heard you in the hallway downstairs.” She smiled and bent over her work—she was sewing something or other, or maybe darning—Jillian didn’t stop to examine it. She went straight to the crib and looked in.

“Good morning, sweetling,” she whispered.

“Uff,” the baby said. He was big enough to be talking in simple words, and toddling around the manor, but he was sleepy and when he was, he reverted to his own language.

“Are you sleepy?” she murmured.

“Mama.”

She giggled and bent down, lifting him out of the cot. He was surprisingly heavy, and she chuckled as she rested him on her shoulder. Jeremy stood beside her, stroking the small back of the child with a big, gentle hand.

They stood together, both lost in the love they shared for this tiny human being. Jillian held him tight against her, feeling his heavy, stocky little body on her shoulder. She kissed his floss-like hair, which was an uncertain brown. His eyes, looking up at her, were a turquoise shade. She knew he’d inherited that from his grandfather.

“Shall we take you downstairs for a bit?” Jillian asked him. “You would like a walk, practicing your walking.”

Jeremy chuckled as the little one made an enthusiastic chuckle. Jillian carried him to the door, taking care with him as he coughed a little. She shifted his position, leaning him against her side.

They went down to the drawing-room, where a comfortable rug of silk threads made a good place for him to practice walking. Jillian set him down on it, his little white outfit in contrast with the wheaten-coloured threads of the oriental rug. He rolled onto his knees and stood up, taking a few awkward steps.

“Very good,” Jeremy said. He reached for him, and the little one took some steps towards his Papa. Jillian watched, holding her breath, as he reached for their son and held him close. She felt so much love in her heart it almost ached with it.

“Look at you,” Jeremy murmured to the child, lifting him up over his head and looking into his eyes. “You’re a big strong boy.”

Jillian giggled. The little fellow made cooing noises and wriggled to get down. Jeremy set him carefully on his little feet, and he toddled across the carpet towards Jillian’s hand.

“Mama.”

Jillian reached for him and hugged him, making him laugh as she tickled the silky skin of his neck. He was giggling and pretending to escape, and Jillian’s parents came in.

“Grandson!” Lady Nollport said. She bent down, wincing and sat down beside the carpet, letting the little boy toddle over to her.

“Ganny.”

Jillian chuckled. He reached for her and Lady Nollport lifted him up, sitting him on her knee. Jillian saw the look of complete love they shared and felt her heart twist almost painfully.

She watched her father, standing quietly at the edge of the room, just watching. His eyes were wide, as though he drank in the scene, observing silently as always. Jillian stood up and went to him.

“He’s a fine fellow, then,” he said. He walked over, limping slightly, and bent to take the child. The little boy looked into his eyes, a moment of speech that needed no words as they studied each other softly.

“Ganpapa.”

Jillian giggled. Her father laughed and lifted him high into the air. “Look at you, you fine fellow,” he said. He looked up at the child, his smile so broad that Jillian wanted to cry. It made her so glad to see him so happy. The child shrieked and kicked, a smile spreading wide across his face.

His grandfather set him down gently on the carpet, letting him toddle off to where Jeremy sat, waiting for him to come walking to him.

“Come on, little fellow,” Jeremy said, wrapping him in a big hug. “Let’s go into the garden. You’ll need some air for when the guests arrive.”

Jillian nodded. She followed him down the stairs, going out towards the garden. Jeremy carried the little boy down the stairs, and then they set him down carefully on the lawn. Jillian watched as he stumbled about in the long, wet grass, giggling with delight at the feel of it under his toes. It was a cool morning, one in late summer, and Jillian thought they should not leave him out too long in this wind.

“Let’s bring him in after five minutes or so,” she said to Jeremy, who nodded.

“Yes, it is a bit cold out. I reckon we can bring him out again later. It’s good for him to take the air.”

“Yes,” Jillian agreed.

They watched as he toddled about, enjoying the soft grass under his feet. Jillian looked around the garden. The flowerbeds near the house blossomed with brightly-coloured blooms, the arbour lush with leafy growth. She looked up at the tall trees, thinking the gardeners had done an excellent job, as usual, at keeping them trim and well-maintained.

“We should take him in,” she said after a moment. She thought she heard coach-wheels on the road. It was a silent morning, and the sounds drifted up from the valley. It was a distant sound, but, since they expected company, it was possible there was in fact a coach coming, even to the remote manor of Nollport, where coaches didn’t usually come.

“Yes, I agree,” Jeremy said. “Come on, son. We have to go and get you cleaned up. And dress ourselves, too. Your papa needs his hair combing.”

Jillian giggled. She looked at Jeremy, thinking how handsome he looked, his pale brown hair tousled in the wind. She took his hand and he stood up, lifting Jackie up with him on one arm, grunting a little as he stood.

“You’re a heavy boy.”

Jillian laughed. Jackie giggled.

“Boy,” he said.

Jillian laughed harder, Jeremy’s gentle chuckles mixing with her own. Speech, in Jackie’s mouth, was a delight for all of them to hear.

“Yes, you are,” Jeremy told him, tickling him and making him laugh. They walked together, Jillian’s arm threaded through his own, going up toward the house.

“I suppose I look presentable, don’t I?” Jeremy asked. He was standing before the mirror in their bedroom, checking his hair. The main bedroom in the house was theirs, her parents having moved into a smaller bedroom that had been a guest-room. Jillian had protested at first, but her mother insisted she preferred a view of the rose-garden, and Jillian had to agree that the view out of the guest-room window was possibly even nicer than the one they had earlier.

“Yes, you do,” Jillian said, standing to kiss his cheek. “You are handsome, my dear.”

Jeremy blushed. “Well, I don’t even need to tell you that you are, too,” he said, stroking her hair. “You are so obviously so.”

Jillian giggled. She reached for him and hugged him. He kissed her lips, holding her close and making her heart thump with a strange excitement that possessed her whenever she was close to him.

“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go downstairs. I think our guests should be arriving any moment.”

“Yes, I think so. If that coach I heard was a real coach, and not just the breeze playing tricks on my ear.”

Jeremy giggled. “I’m sure it wasn’t, my dear. You have better ears than me. If you heard it, I believe you.”

Jillian laughed and took his hand and they went down the stairs together. She was wearing a white gown, patterned with small geometric patterns in a red-brown. Now that she was married, she had the entire palette of colours available to her, instead of just the bright ones. She still favoured white and cream, but the patterns were darker and stronger now on her gowns, and the fabric heavier.

She followed Jeremy to the front entrance, off which the dining-room opened. She peered in, the sunshine gleaming off the silverware. It was not a particularly bright day, but the dining-room was light and airy and was one of the brightest rooms in the place.

She was not surprised when they heard coach-wheels and somebody knocked on the door shortly after.

“Good morning,” Jeremy greeted.

“Good morning.” Alfred bowed and beside him, Alexandra curtseyed. She had not changed at all. Her straight back was elegant and refined, her dress red velvet, the neck low-cut and a matching red-velvet cap over her hair, which was glossy black and showed in a bun at the back of her head.

“So good to see you,” Jeremy said. He strained his neck to see past them, where his father, leaning on a crutch, limped up.

“Jeremy, my boy. Jillian! Dear daughter.” He kissed her cheek. He had a big face, lined heavily with pain from his leg, but his eyes—the same brown as Jeremy’s, a sort of golden-brown colour—shone with warmth.

“Greetings, my lord,” Jillian replied.

“Grand to see you. Grand. Now, where’s my grandson?”

Jeremy laughed. “Upstairs. We’ll take you up in a minute. Come in, Alexandra. It’s too cold a day to stand out there on the stairway.”

“Quite so, brother,” Alexandra agreed. “Grand to see you,” she said to Jillian, who inclined her head politely. Alexandra returned the gesture. Alfred bowed. He looked happy, his long, handsome face lit with a grin.

“Grand to see you too,” he replied. “Now, I trust the weather has been good here? Coming up from London it was constantly raining! The coach had to stop three times to get dug out. It amused me.”

Jillian giggled. He was such a talkative, happy person. She was pleased to see him looking so well. She fell into step with them as they went upstairs. Jeremy was at the head, nearing the drawing-room.

“Lord Nollport? Look who is here,” he greeted. His father stepped forward, shaking his old friend’s hand.

“Grand to see you!” he greeted enthusiastically. “Ah! This is grand. Lady Julianna. What a pleasure to see you, too.”

“Always good to see you, Alexander.”

Jillian stood to one side, waiting while the three older guests settled in their chairs, close to each other. Jeremy’s papa was already talking, lowering himself into the comfortable chair left open for him as he did so. They met so often that it was almost like they had their own unwritten rules—Jeremy’s papa always sat in the big chair with the cushion, Lady Nollport sat on the wingback by the fire, and her father sat where he always did, in the upholstered chair with its back to the window, next to a table where he could put his newspaper.

“Now,” the baron said, turning to her. “Where is that grandson?”

Jillian laughed. “I’ll fetch him straight away, Baron,” she agreed.

“I’ll be glad to see him.”

“He’s talking properly now,” her father was saying, as she went from the room to go up to the nursery. She smiled to herself, so pleased to see them all here.

She went up to the nursery, where Jackie was still awake. She lifted him up and he giggled. She kissed his smooth head, holding him close.

“Your grandpapa is here,” she said softly.

“Ganpapa.”

She smiled. “Yes. Papa’s father. He’ll be so pleased to see you again.”

“Ganpapa.”

Jillian chuckled, thinking that he sounded quite glad to see him, and carried him gently downstairs. She reached the drawing-room, where Alfred was seated by the door, long legs stretched out towards the fireplace. Alexandra sat next to Alfred, laughing at some funny story Lord Nollport was telling. Jillian paused at the door, looking at the people seated there so happily, and thinking that love was so wonderful.

Lord Nollport saw her first, his face split with a grin.

“It’s little Jackie! Bring him in, my dear. Alexander will be so pleased.”

Jillian nodded, carrying him shyly to the baron, who looked up at him, brown eyes stern at first and then melting with softness.

“Come here, little fellow,” he said gently. He reached for him, wrinkled hands so gentle as he held him. Jillian felt her heart twist seeing how extremely tender he was with the small child, who looked up at him with an interested stare.

“Gandpapa.”

“Quite so, young fellow. Quite so. My, but you’re a big fellow, aren’t you?”

Jillian giggled. They all laughed, and little Jackie giggled as well and shifted to sit on his knee. Everybody was watching him, smiles of delight and love on their faces.

Alexandra held him too, talking about the refurbishments they’d made on the household. Jeremy smiled, teasing her.

“One has to follow fashion, brother,” she said rather stuffily, then giggled.

“Quite so, my dear.”

They all laughed. Jillian went to take Jeremy back to his bedchamber, and came to sit down again. The butler came in with tea for everyone, and she helped pour the cups, while Jeremy sliced cake off the big raisin loaf for all of them.

“This is nice,” the baron said.

Jillian felt her heart flood with warmth. It was nice indeed. She looked around at the familiar, beloved faces, thinking that her world had grown so large, and that love was a remarkable thing.

Her father was smiling, drinking tea, at ease in the large group. He still avoided crowds, but his confidence had grown considerably, and being here in the family group was not hard at all for him. His fondness for Alexander was clear, and the two of them spent hours in discussion of their time in India.

After tea, they all went for a walk about the grounds. Jillian walked beside Jeremy, neither of them talking much, listening to Alexandra discussing the plans she had for the grounds at Stelbridge, where she and Alfred spent a growing amount of their time.

“I want to put in some imported roses, but Papa says that there’s nothing wrong with the ones we have at home.” She made a face and the baron chuckled.

“Plenty of good roses here, young lady.”

Jillian laughed. She thought everybody looked happy, and that made her happy, too. She looked up at Jeremy, sharing a glance of amusement and love with him.

Later, when their guests were settled in their accommodation—Jillian’s old room, and another guest-chamber for Alexander to use—she and Jeremy went up to their own bedroom together. She sat down, feeling sleepy and relaxed.

“It’s grand to see everyone here,” she said. She glanced sideways at her hair. She would have to ring to summon her new maid. Christina had remained at the rented manor, having fallen for a local farmer there. Jillian was so happy for her, and they made an effort to see each other once a year whenever she went down to London to the townhouse. She and Jeremy never spent longer than a week, but for his business ventures, he needed to be there occasionally, and her father was also trusting him with their accounts more, making it easier for him to avoid long trips in London together.

“It is grand, yes,” Jeremy agreed. “So nice that our parents are good friends.”

“It is,” Jillian agreed. Of course, she would have loved Jeremy no matter what, but seeing Alexander and her father together made her smile. It was good for them both, they both agreed. The family met regularly, at least every two months, whether here or at Stelbridge or in London.

“I never knew it was possible to feel like this,” Jeremy said.

Jillian smiled. He came to sit down beside her on the long chair by the window and she linked her fingers through his. They sat quietly for a moment.

“No,” Jillian replied. “I didn’t really, either.”

Jeremy smiled again. “I suppose I did know, really,” he said. “I felt like this every time we saw each other. I just didn’t know it was possible to feel this so regularly, this contentment that you seem to make me feel.”

“Oh, Jeremy,” Jillian said, blushing red. “You are dear,” she said. She nestled close and he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his warmth. She looked up at him, feeling her heart flood with love.

“I love you, Jeremy,” she whispered.

He kissed her hair. “And it goes without saying. I love you too.”

She pressed her lips to his cheek, her heart filled with the sweet warmth of love.

THE END

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