Page 89 of Lakeshire Park
Three days, my darling. I can hardly wait.
All my love,
Amelia
Dearest Amelia,
Georgiana’s first call was a disaster. Society has wasted no time in divulging the details of her scandal to the world. She handled the questions with grace, but I fear she will not leave her room for another few days now.
I am glad the wedding was as happy as predicted. I am sure I think of little else but our own.
And I cannot wait to stealyouaway for the afternoon.
Yours, etc.,
Peter
Dearest Peter,
My things are in trunks upon my bedroom floor. I do not expect to sleep at all, for tomorrow is finally approaching, but I shall try.
You will not believe what came yesterday from Gray House. A box of my mother’s things. She kept a journal, and I am halfway through reading it, and her feelings are entirely heartbreaking. She loved my father, Peter. Ardently. I do not think their love was immediate, but in reading her words, I see she grew to love him. Perhaps his stories came true after all.
Thank you for letting Clara and Sir Ronald stay with us. I hope Georgiana truly does not mind. I know it will be difficult for her to see them together so soon, but Clara is so happy, I am sure all is already forgiven.
I shall see you when you wake.
Yours,
Amelia
“Are we nearly there?” I asked Sir Ronald, who sat opposite me in the carriage beside Clara.
My hands were shaking. I’d already asked Sir Ronald to check his watch above two dozen times, but Peter had said four hours, and I would hold him to it.
“I know this bend. You shall see the estate any moment,” he answered with a grin.
Clara laid her head on his shoulder, and I sighed.
Soon.
Staring out the window, I relished the sight of green trees upon green hills lush with green grass, just as Peter had described. I tried to picture Peter as we rolled by, the bend in the distance drawing closer. Did he ride these hills on horseback? Take walks and get lost in the open fields?
“Ah, yes. I remember visiting here as a child. Any moment now.” Sir Ronald leaned toward the window, looking out at the landscape.
My heart beat in my chest. Would Peter be waiting for me? Did he know I’d be arriving at any moment?
“There!” Clara pointed. A rectangular brown house towered in the distance. It was beautiful, serene, regal. “Look at those pillars. Darling, why do we not have pillars lining our entry?”
Sir Ronald muttered something about structural integrity, but I did not hear him as I was focused entirely on Peter.
He stood, arms behind his back, dressed as though he awaited a queen, with the grandest grin upon his face. His hair fluttered handsomely in the wind.
I nearly opened the door myself.
Sir Ronald dropped out, helping Clara from her seat, and Peter stepped forward.
I let him help me down, but wasted no time closing the space between us. Kissing his lips was as easy as breathing. His arms held me, lifting me in the air, and he spun me around as we laughed in each other’s embrace.
When my feet touched gravel again, I took in the vast height of the house, the perfectly trimmed landscape that seemed to stretch for miles on end, and the sweet breeze that rustled the yellowing leaves amongst the trees. “This is heaven,” I whispered.
Peter took my hand in his, lifting it to press a kiss in my palm, and said, “This, my love, is home.”
