Five Years Later

The carriage rattled shamefully along the country roads outside of London, and after enduring it for a few hours, Cecilia asked Robert to stop and let her and the two children take some refreshment at the local teahouse.

"It's but an hour or two to your country estate," she said with a sweet smile, "but the children are tired. If we stop now, we'll still make it to the house by nightfall."

"I never was very good at saying no to you," Robert said with a smile, reaching over and tousling little Robbie's dark curls. "What do you think, Robbie? Shall we get you and Sophia a biscuit and some milk?"

The little boy looked up with bright eyes. "Yes, Papa. The carriage is tossing my stomach around."

"Then we shall stop at once," Robert answered with a smile.

He knocked on the door and gave the coachman the order, turning to Cecilia afterwards with his characteristic gentility. "You take the children inside and I will give the stableman our instructions. We've only a short time here, though."

When the carriage stopped at the rustic establishment, Cecilia took Robbie by one hand and little Sophia by the other, leading the two inside to order a pot of tea.

She thought again how sweet it was to have them both hanging off her hands - Robbie's insistent fist pulling her forward, Sophia's plump one holding her back.

The teahouse was dark inside, but well cared for, neat and respectable. The lady of the place bid Cecilia sit on the couch in the corner, and when Robert arrived, he found his wife resting peacefully with a child on each side and a teacup in hand.

"I'm glad we rested," he said, "for I've found one of the horses has a loose shoe and I bid the cobbler mend it before we set back out on our journey."

"Papa, what do you mean by shoe?" Robbie asked with wide eyes. "I didn't see anything but their feet."

"Oh, they've grand shoes," Robert answered his son with wide eyes and a deep voice. "But they're all underneath and out of sight. I will show you the next time we go riding."

"How do they stay on if they're underneath? Where are the laces?"

Cecilia raised her eyebrows and, in a low voice, whispered to her husband, "Would you like to explain to him that the shoes are nailed straight into the hoof or should I?"

Robert winked back at her. "I wouldn't deny you the pleasure, dear."

There was a noise at the door, and two more travellers entered, asking for a bite to eat and a pint for the gentleman. Cecilia looked up and felt her heart come suddenly into her throat.

There, dressed in a red riding habit, was Lucy Mormont. At her side stood the Count.

He was the one who noticed Cecilia first, and at once bid Lucy look in her direction. Cecilia saw Lucy's face turn from delight, to embarrassment, and then to tentative kindness.

She came over and stood before the family with her hands clasped before her.

"What a pleasant surprise," she began in a nervous tone. Then, as though searching for words, she added, "I understand you are Lady Lothmire now."

"I am," Cecilia rose to greet her friend. "I have missed you. Please, come share our tea time."

"Are you certain?" Lucy beckoned the Count over. "I would not want to impose, and I know there is much history between us."

"I am of course certain," Cecilia answered kindly.

Robert greeted Lucy and the Count as well, seconding his wife's sentiment, and in a moment they were all seated around the tea table.

"These children are yours?" the Count asked, breaking the silence.

"They are."

"Charming, lovely children," Lucy said with a smile. "We have one of our own now — a daughter, but three years old. She's with her nurse right now in our place in Bath. We're taking a brief trip without her but I find..."

"...you find you miss her whenever you are gone," Cecilia finished kindly. "I am the same way, though I find time alone with Robert to be the sweetest of gifts."

"I have heard," Lucy ventured, "that having children is like taking your heart and putting it outside your body. There is so much beauty in getting to watch what you love grow, but you also feel the most vulnerable part of yourself is open to danger."

Cecilia smiled, warmed by her friend's vulnerability.

Lucy cleared her throat. "Would you take a turn with me, Lady Lothmire? I've something to share, for your ears only."

"Certainly." Cecilia stood and took her old friend's arm and they walked to the other end of the teahouse, stopping to speak by a spray of bright flowers.

"I only meant to say..." Lucy began fearfully. "I only meant that I am sorry so much time has passed between the events at Clairmont and our current meeting. I wished many times to write, but felt the sentiments I wished to express would seem insincere in the written form alone."

"Go on," Cecilia said, taking her friend's hand.

"I have distanced myself from my father and mother. It was a most painful parting, but they would not recognise Gerard's folly or how dangerous he was, and I could not condone his behaviour. I only wished to apologise to you directly for whatever hand I had in the unfortunate affair."

Cecilia paused to be sure Lucy had finished all she meant to say, and then embraced the other woman tenderly.

"I knew you felt badly about all that had transpired back on that awful day in Gerard's room," she said. "Your face spoke volumes."

"I was sick with worry and guilt," Lucy answered.

"You have been forgiven from the beginning," Cecilia said. "I am honoured by this repeated declaration, but you have nothing to fear from me. Fate has brought us together here in this teahouse, and I would wish you to go forward from here with the greatest of happiness."

She frowned then, a twinge of concern entering the conversation. "I do not like the idea that this uncomfortable situation has distanced you from your blood and family."

Lucy's face spoke of years of sadness. "I do not like it either," she said quietly, "but it is not your fault, Cecilia. They have had many chances to apologise to you, to right their ways, to hold Gerard to account, but at each opportunity they turn again a blind eye to the situation. I cannot suffer such chosen ignorance when it hurts so many people."

"So you have not seen them in some time?"

"No. I heard Gerard went away for some time to get help, but reports come to Bath that during his trip he showed the same wanton behaviour. He leaves a path of wounded hearts just as he always did."

"I can see that this time has been trying for you indeed," Cecilia ventured. "I am glad we ran into each other, for if I can give you any relief by extending my genuine forgiveness, I do so now, gladly."

"You cannot know what joy that gives me," Lucy said.

The two walked back to their husbands, and the Count stood as they neared.

"We have been speaking now about your home in London. It seems Lord Lothmire has done very well for himself," he said.

Robert smiled indulgently. "Do not fear, little wife. I was not boasting. He only asked about the Harrison case last month and I was giving the inside information."

"My husband has been fascinated with that case since it first appeared in the papers," Lucy said, sitting down with the group. "It seems you did an admirable job of manipulating the common law."

"The courtroom would shrink at such language, my lady," Robert said with a wry smile. "I believe I am commissioned to defend the law, not manipulate it."

"Well, when something is wrong, sometimes you have to fight back against it," Lucy said, making eye contact with Robert at last.

"Yes, of course," Robert said, searching first Lucy's face and then Cecilia's to see all that transpired.

Cecilia smiled at him and was rewarded to see him relax at the sight of her happiness. He turned to the Count and Lucy. "It was fortunate to cross paths with you."

"You seem happy, Robert," Lucy said gently. "I am glad."

"I am happy," Robert answered.

Cecilia felt again the thrill of camaraderie and belonging that had been hers ever since she agreed to marry Robert. He was her steadfast rock and her daily joy.

"Well," the Count interjected, "we really must be going. We haven't the time to stay for long, and as it seems we have satisfied fate by meeting in this way, I think we can well return to the road."

"Indeed," Cecilia said, leaping up to bid them goodbye. "But let this not be the end. We are in London, as we have said, and on occasion we have reason to be in Bath. Please, make room for us in your lives again and we will see what we can mend."

Lucy smiled warmly. "I have told you only today how I have lost my family through this torrid affair, but it seems that now I have been fortunate to gain another family, perhaps dearer than blood."

When the two had departed from the teahouse, Robert turned to Cecilia and drew her close.

"Your friend seems as insightful as ever," he said teasingly, "for she has noticed in one moment the greatest truth about my life."

"What is that, Papa?" Robbie asked, pushing past his little sister to climb into a place of prominence at his father's side.

"What do you think, Robbie? You, Sophia?" Robert lifted his daughter into his arms. "What do you think is the most important thing in my life?"

Robbie crossed his plump arms in thoughtful contemplation. "Well, Grandmama says whatever you talk about the most is most important, and you spend an awful lot of time talking about Mama."

Robert smiled in response to his son's innocent comment. "I do?" he said, winking at Cecilia in a way that warmed her heart. "I wouldn't want to be a bore now. If you have any ideas for how I could expand my conversational repertoire, please share them."

"Well, you don't just talk about Mama," Robbie rushed to intervene. "You talk about other important things too."

"Like what?" Cecilia asked, leaning into the warmth of her husband and pulling Sophia up onto her lap. The little girl was pretty and quiet, but Cecilia and Robert often spoke about how they hoped she would grow into a wise and thoughtful girl. "Sophia, what else do you think your papa likes to talk about?"

"Us," Sophia said sweetly, her cherub face turned up for a kiss. "He talks about us, Mama."

"Indeed," Robert answered, pulling Cecilia close and looking into her eyes with yearning. "And Lucy is right: I am as happy as a man could ever be."

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