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Authors: Sherry Lynn Ferguson

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“They care for you a great deal. They are welcome to
stay as long as they wish.” Meg’s chin rose. “This is, after
all, my home”

“I thought you told Hayden that Brookslea was your
home?” He leaned closer. “You told him something else,
sweet, that I had him repeat many times. May I believe it?
It is no small thing. You might still have anyone. And I
find-that nothing in life leaves me as uncertain as you
do” His hold on her tightened. “I love you, Meg. Do not
tease me. I must hear from you.”

She could scarcely see more than his lips and chin-he
was that close to her. But all else about him was clear,
warm, strong, and urgent.

“Do you think,” she breathed, “I would now have anyone
but you? I … love you. I love you. I lo-”

He gathered her against him.

“And you are willing,” he spoke above her head, “to let
the marriage stand? I know I told you we should wed because of Sutcliffe-”

She placed two fingers to his lips.

“Do not say his name. Not now. It is too … perfect.” He
was stroking her arm and shoulder with a gentle, mesmerizing hand. With the other he interlaced his fingers with
hers. His thumb rubbed her wedding band.

“I think I must spirit you away to Brookslea immediately. You have no idea how my cousins will plague us. Though even Brookslea has its problems. For you would no
doubt abandon me, and my convalescence, to rearrange the
furnishings. Or paper walls,” he spoke to her ear, “And plan
kitchen gardens.”

“I should think that would be more of a distraction for
you.,,

“Never, Meg. I have waited too long for your company.
Although, perhaps … I should consider employing you.”

“Employing me! Is this the way husbands speak to
wives?”

“I do not know,” he said, touching his forehead to hers.
“I have no experience.”

“I should like to see my silverbell tree,” she suggested
softly.

“‘Tis now my silverbell tree. My gift was rejected. Do
you not recall?”

She kissed the side of his mouth.

“‘Twas not rejected,” she assured him.

“I am delighted. Because it is here. Do you think I would
haul one sorry sapling about the countryside, because of a
young woman’s whimsy?”

“Where is it?” she murmured.

“You must find it.”

“Why-that could take ages!”

“Not if one were systematic. Indeed, we must searchtogether.” She felt rather than saw his smile. “As I cannot go
to Abbey Clare just yet, I would as soon finish at Selboume.”

“Finish?”

“Some projects will, of course, be ongoing.” He kissed her
cheek. “Certain holdings require a lifetime’s commitment. And here at Selbourne, I doubt I have ever seen. . ” at last his
lips met hers, “as fine a prospect “

Brookslea, Hants. 6 September 1814

Dear Louisa,

I hardly know how to begin. To say that I am happy
beyond anything sounds much too weak. That Charles
Cabot lives, and lives for me, is some state akin to
heaven.

No doubt our attachment was the cause of our recent eviction from Selbourne. Father claimed that
watching a newly married couple “court” under his
nose was more than anybody could tolerate, for there
could never be any mystery as to the outcome of our
exchanges. This from father who has always delighted
in managing others’ affairs! He did, in fact, imply to
Cabot that the commission at Selbourne was principally to bring him into my orbit, a revelation to which
Cabot took outraged exception. He told father such
manipulation for “long odds” was a misuse of his
time and abilities. But I know for a certainty that on
my part the odds were never long-I loved him virtually from the moment I first set eyes on him.

Father says he never thought Selbourne needed alterations and that he is appalled the east lawn had to
be so “chewed up.” Cabot has offered to restore all
and to return the daughter as well! You must see that it
was best we removed ourselves, else I might have died
of laughter

Father cannot be too upset, as he has given Cabot
Arcturus. He told me he believes my poor husband can use the advantage. In truth, Arcturus is speeding
Cabot’s recovery. That grand horse prefers no other
rider I cannot regret him. I shall always be true to my
Paloma, who saved my life.

I thought I should never love another place as I do
Selbourne, but Brookslea now holds my heart. Here is
such a happy mix of water, walks, and woodland that
I know I shall always be content. It is a dreamlike
Eden, Louisa, and still new enough to Cabot that we
might explore it together and plan as one.

Cabot’s man, an elderly Austrian named Dietz, is a
wonder at running the household. He does not speak
much English, but he is teaching me German, which
Cabot claims is the solution he would have predicted
from Dietz. They have a most singular relationship, for
Dietz always calls Cabot “mein Herzog” or “Graf”
and shows him the utmost honor, while being forbiddingly strict. I believe Dietz does not feel as responsible for me. With me he is most affable and indulgent.
Cabot has told me the title, von Wintersee, is “merely
vestigial”-the relic of a departed world-with what
he describes as no rights and few privileges. But when
I accuse him of stocking a fishing pond in Austria, he
laughs and tells me that I will be surprised. He intends
to take me to meet his father’s mother in Vienna early
next spring. I am exceedingly curious. Father may
claim that married couples hold no mystery for him,
but mysteries remain. Cabot intrigues me, as ever

Despite the happiness I describe, I still recall Lord
Sutcliffe. Cabot will always bear scars from that decisive morning at Wimbledon. When I see them I am reminded, and both horrified and grateful that he
risked so much. I loved him desperately in any event.
It humbles me to recognize he loved me more. I am determined that he shall not surpass me in devotion in
future.

I cannot face separation so soon as this fall, so he
has arranged for me to accompany him to Abbey
Clare in Kent next month. We are to stop with his
Grandmere in town both going and coming -I am all
eagerness at the thought of seeing you and, with
God’s good grace, a little Ferrell. You know I shall enjoy being an aunt, Louisa. Cabot claims that you and
Ferrell, and my most presumptuous maid Annie, aided
him so immeasurably, at such critical junctures, that
you have earned his eternal gratitude. I know that he
looks forward to furthering the acquaintance when
we are in town.

I must not forget to relay an invitation to Braughton
for the New Year The duke and duchess hold a house
party annually and they have been kind enough to invite the entire family. Should you and a babe be ready
to travel, I would welcome your company. It is the first
opportunity I shall have to meet Cabot’s uncle and
aunt. If the magnificence of their son the marquis is
any measure, their Graces must be most imposing
personages. I do not mean to imply that I find Lord
Hayden disagreeable far from it. As you remember
he can be a most fascinating gentleman. And yet? I
suppose I simply do not know what to make of him. I
do know you will enjoy meeting Hayden’s brother
Major Trent, Lord David. That is, if he attends for the major has returned to Wellington in Paris, and
Cabot hints that some discord in the family may keep
him away. I am thankful father never ruled us too
strictly, although of course there was never so much
at stake!

I hope my raptures have not bored you as they did
father and even patient Bertie. Imagine-they claim to
be eager for Lucy’s return from Brighton with the
Wemblys! You recall father required she keep a journal for the year that she might learn the value of
words? I fear he will regret the assignment, for Lucy
vows she shall read it to everyone!

Pray do write and tell me how you are feeling. I
told you last spring, did I not, that Ferrell would stay
in town with you, rather than decamp for the shooting? I wish you always as blissfully happy as I find
myself with my own.

I hear him waking now and must to him.

Love,

Meg

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