Page 69 of Mr. Eastwood’s Match

Her fingers slipped into the crook of his elbow. “Gladly.”

And they returned to the crowd, and she felt the beginnings of something fragile and beautiful growing quietly between them.

A Letter

August 27th, 1822

Benwaith House, London

My Dearest Emily,

Juniper’s letter reached us yesterday, and your father and I have scarcely spoken of anything else since. The very thought of you being unwell—and through no fault of your own—has troubled us both more than I can say. I thank Heaven you were not alone, and that friends acted quickly to keep you safe. I am grateful to have received a letter in your own hand with your account of all of it. My poor darling!

But what joy followed those feelings! Your engagement to Mr. Lyness Eastwood has filled this house with such happiness. Your father declared at once that we will be in York as soon as arrangements can be made, and I confess I could not rest until I put pen to paper. We long to embrace you and congratulate you properly.

Your brothers, Richard and George, speak highly of the Eastwood family. Mr. Eastwood’s reputation is excellent, and from all Juniper wrote, he has shown you every care and consideration. That is all your father and I ever hoped for, that you should be cherished. My heart is full knowing you have found a wonderful match.

We shall leave for York shortly. Expect us within the week.

All my love, your mother,

Margaret

Countess Benwaith

Chapter Twenty

September 3rd, 1822

Alate summer breeze drifted through the broken ribs of stone. The abbey ruins and surrounding grounds were not as full as usual. Perhaps the gray sky above made people hesitant to trust their time to the outdoors. Emily had loved the place since her arrival in York. Something about the old stones gave her comfort. On days filled with sunlight, they were warm to the touch and felt like a place to begin an adventure.

On a day like today, Saint Mary’s Abbey was somber, quiet, full of wind and old stories. Despite the particularly gothic-like atmosphere, her pulse beat too quickly for serenity. So while everyone in her party sat on blankets and discussed the history of the medieval city surrounding them, she grew agitated.

Her parents had arrived two days earlier, full of joy and eager to meet her betrothed once more. Richard and George had followed shortly after with their wives, Katherine and Susan, turning Jack and Juniper’s cottage into a bustling hive of Sterlings. She had missed them greatly, and it was wonderful to have them near. Emily had laughed. She had smiled. She had told herself everything was well.

And mostly, it was. They had all enjoyed meeting Lyness and Roman again, and Lady Hartwell had been gracious toward Emily’s parents and family.

“I think a walk is in order for me,” Jack said, kissing Juniper on the cheek as he rose. “Richard. George. Would you like to see more of the old stones tumbling down around us?”

“An excellent idea.” Richard rose and dusted himself off. As the eldest brother, he would inherit their father’s title. He had undertaken much of the responsibilities of it already. Their father had frequently proclaimed himself too old to learn to be an earl.

His wife, Katherine, tipped her head up and peered at him from beneath her bonnet with a look of caution. “No climbing around on unsteady stones, husband. You are not a boy anymore, and I know you would rather not take up walking with a cane.”

“Oh, but think how dashing I should be.” He winked at his wife. “Twirling a cane whenever I was not leaning upon it.”

George had risen, too. He gave Susan, his wife, an arch look. “No warnings or expressions of care for me, my dear?”

Susan turned a page in the book she was reading. A Gothic romance she had borrowed from Juniper. “If you do not have the sense to look after yourself, I suppose you will suffer the consequences of it.” She darted a quick look at him, adorned with a smile. “I am certain your brothers will look after you, should you need it.”

“Ah, poor George.” Jack clapped their brother on the shoulder. “I recognize the book your wife is reading. She will not put it down. Not until the very end, when they discover the count is really⁠—”

Juniper, Susan, Katherine, and Emily all protested at once, each of them warning him against spoiling the ending, and Juniper threatened him somewhat creatively, though Emily only caught the end of it.

“—back into powdered wigs and brass buttons!”

Everyone went quiet and looked at Jack’s wife, who glared fiercely at him.

Jack raised both hands in surrender, and one of the broadest smiles Emily had ever seen upon his face appeared. “I retract even the suggestion that I would dare speak the ending of a book while someone is actively enjoying its pages. You have my sincerest apologies, ladies.” He bowed, and the look he gave his wife was full of genuine amusement and a tenderness that made Emily’s heart ache.