by Abby Ayles
Francis squeezed Emma’s hand and gave her a small, reassuring smile.
There, sitting in a chair in handcuffs, sat Lucius Rowley. When he saw Emma, he narrowed his eyes. Francis instinctively moved to stand between Rowley and Emma.
“I might have known that you had something to do with this,” Lucius said.
“You certainly should have known,” Emma said, obviously relieved to see him under arrest and once more her confident, direct self.
“I will ruin you for this,” Lucius said, more calmly and assuredly than Francis liked.
“Might I remind you that you are under arrest,” said the constable who had come to retrieve them. “Your crimes are serious enough. You would do well to not add any sort of threats to that.”
“It would be quite difficult to ruin her from prison,” Marcus said, smirking.
Lucius’s face turned bright red, and he trembled with anger, but he said nothing else.
Marcus and Francis each gave their final statements and waited for Emma to speak to the constables for the last time. Lucius Rowley had been taken to the back and would be seeing many years of prison time.
While Emma gave her statement, Marcus approached Francis.
“Well done, my lord,” Marcus said. Francis looked at him and saw gratitude on his face.
“We did it together,” Francis said, offering his hand to Marcus.
This time, Marcus shook it heartily, with no hesitation.
“I do believe that my sister could have chosen a far worse man to fall in love with,” Marcus said, his eyes twinkling with humor. Then, he grew serious again. “I am honored to give you my blessing to marry my sister.”
Francis looked at Marcus. He was glad that Marcus had come around, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree with Marcus. He felt sure that Emma could have found a much better man, and that she deserved one.
“I am certainly not a very good man,” Francis said solemnly. “But Emma makes me good. She brings out the very best in me. And I have no intention of ever letting her go. I shall do my best to be everything she deserves.”
“I know,” Marcus said, his eyes twinkling again. “And you had better, or you will have me to contend with.”
Francis looked at Marcus, and the two men laughed merrily.
Epilogue
With all the terrible trouble with Lucius Rowley behind them, Emma was anxious to begin discussing wedding plans with Francis.
It seemed that he was just as anxious. The morning after Lucius’s arrest, Francis arrived at her home, holding a single red rose.
“Good morning, my darling,” Francis said, smiling lovingly.
Emma beamed at Francis and took the rose.
“Thank you, Francis,” she said. “It is beautiful.”
“No, you are beautiful,” Francis said. “That is just a flower.”
Emma blushed, her smile stretching so wide her cheeks ached. She welcomed Francis into the house.
Marcus was just coming down the stairs. Emma held her breath. She had heard Marcus and Francis talking quietly at the constables’, but she had heard none of what they had said.
Marcus stared at Francis for a moment with a blank expression. He approached the couple slowly, not taking his eyes off of Francis.
Emma’s heart raced. Then, Marcus reached out and shook Francis’s hand, smiling. Emma could not suppress a smile.
“Good morning, Lord Ashfield,” Marcus said warmly.
Francis smiled.
“In light of the fact that I shall soon be your brother-in-law, I think that Francis is much more appropriate. Don’t you?”
“Francis, then,” Marcus said. He turned to his sister. “Who would have thought that we would be on a first-name basis with an earl?” He feigned swooning, and Emma burst out laughing.
“Who would have thought that you would land yourself an heiress?” Emma teased.
Marcus flushed, but his own grin widened.
“Come, you lovebirds,” Marcus said. “I believe that it is time to plan your wedding.”
***
When Francis left, Emma was both thrilled and terrified.
They had chosen to be married in two weeks, which had surprised even Emma. She had known that he wanted to be married as soon as possible, but she had expected him to wish to wait a month or so.
After supper that evening, she went into the drawing room to read to calm her mind. She found herself merely staring at the pages, however, not actually reading them.
She was grateful for the knock on the open study door. She looked up to see Marcus standing there, smiling at her.
“You look like you saw a ghost holding a bundle of gold,” Marcus teased.
Emma glared teasingly at her brother.
“You should see your own face whenever someone says Rosaline,” Emma playfully retorted.
Marcus flushed and averted his gaze.
“There, you see?” Emma said, laughing.
“I believe that we are talking about you and your wedding,” Marcus said.
Emma nodded and sighed, her nerves tingling again.
“I can hardly believe it,” she admitted.
Marcus opened his arms and wrapped Emma in a strong, comforting hug.
“I could not be happier for you, little sister,” he said.
Emma thought his voice trembled, and she pulled away just enough to look up at his face. Sure enough, there were tears in his eyes. He pulled away from her completely and looked away.
“I must get back to work,” he said. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you, too, Marcus,” Emma said, wiping her own damp eyes.
The next day was overwhelming. She and Lydia did their best to see to as many of the wedding plans as they could, but they found it next to impossible. By noon, Emma was exhausted and more frightened of the wedding than she had ever been.
She lamented having been denied so much of social life in the ton because of her poor status. If she had had more friends of wealth and renown in the ton, she might have had a better idea of how to plan a wedding. Especially her own.
Emma had a sudden idea. She had not spoken to Rosaline since just after the incident with Francis, and she did not even know if she knew about the engagement.
She considered writing a letter to her friend, but she only had two weeks, just under, counting the day that was quickly passing her by, so she decided to dress and go to her home.
Fortunately, Rosaline was at home when she arrived. When Rosaline came to the door, her smile was bright, but it faded as she took in Emma’s distressed expression.
“Emma, please, come in, darling,” she said, ushering her inside. “Is everything alright?”
Emma nodded, feeling her excited smile return.
“Francis has asked me to marry him,” Emma said bluntly.
Rosaline’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together with glee.
“Oh, Emma,” she said, fiercely embracing her friend. She released her with a look of confusion. “But, how?”
Emma smiled.
“He and Marcus have to come to an agreement about using our father’s ships for his business,” Emma said.
Rosaline beamed and hugged Emma again.
“That is wonderful,” Rosaline gushed.
“Yes, well, would that it was all so wonderful,” Emma said, groaning internally as she thought of all the terrifying wedding plans she had yet to successfully make.
“What do you mean?” Rosaline asked.
“I do not know the first thing about what I am doing,” Emma said.
Rosaline took Emma’s hands and grinned.
“Leave everything to me,” Rosaline said.
Once, Emma would have stubbornly refused any sort of help or charity. Now, she smiled at her friend gratefully.
“Thank you, Rosaline,” Emma said.
***
As the date neared, Emma went to Rosaline’s house once more, so that she could try on the wedding dress and any other adjustmen
ts could be made by the tailor before her wedding day.
She arrived a bit early, but Rosaline was ready and waiting for her. She brought Emma inside and took her to her bedroom to await the tailor’s arrival.
On Rosaline’s large desk sat two trays full of cakes and wine. Emma accepted the wine that Rosaline poured and offered her with gratitude.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a drink of the delicious, sweet red wine.
“Not at all,” Rosaline said grinning. “I will take any excuse to drink a little wine with my dearest friend.”
“No,” Emma said. “I mean, thank you for everything. I could not have done any of this without you.”
Rosaline smiled and took Emma’s hand.
“You certainly could have,” Rosaline said. “You are a clever, smart woman.” Rosaline winked. “You were just fortunate that you had me, so that you did not have to.”
Emma laughed, but she still felt tense.
“Rosaline?” Emma asked timidly. “May I confess something to you?”
Rosaline creased her brow in puzzled concern.
“Of course, Emma,” she said.
“I am scared to death,” Emma said.
“Scared of marrying Francis?” Rosaline asked.
“I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him,” Emma said. “But I am petrified that I am going to embarrass myself, and him.”
Rosaline laughed.
“How on earth could you do that?” she asked.
Emma blushed.
“I am nowhere near as cultured or elegant as many of the women in the ton,” Emma said with a sigh. “Francis should be marrying one of them.”
Rosaline laughed again, more heartily this time.
“Francis would be bored to tears with many of those women,” Rosaline said. “And he cannot stand a woman who will just go along with anything he says without question. Have you not figured that out about him?”
Emma smiled, recalling how his eyes lit up with both disbelief and wonder whenever she stood up to him.
“Yes, I have,” she admitted.
Rosaline grew serious and once more took Emma’s hands.
“Emma, darling,” she said. “I can assure you that you are fretting over nothing.”
“I want to believe you,” Emma said, looking down at the floor.
“Then do believe me,” Rosaline said. “If you were not a good match for Francis, he would not have chosen you.”
At this, Emma fell silent. This, she knew to be true, because Francis had been supposed to marry Rosaline, but he had chosen her. Emma gave herself permission to allow that thought to comfort her, and she smiled.
“You are right,” Emma said. “Everything will be just fine.”
***
Rosaline arrived early on the day of the wedding to bring Emma’s dress and help Emma get dressed. Lydia wove beautiful flowers that Rosaline had brought into Emma’s hair, and Rosaline gave Emma a beautiful pearl necklace that matched the exact shade of the dress.
“For good luck,” Rosaline said as she helped Emma slip on the dress.
When Emma was ready, Rosaline and Lydia stepped back to look at their work. Both women clasped their hands to their chests and sighed. When they approached Emma to hug her, they both also had tears in their eyes.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Miss Baker,” Lydia said.
“I do not believe that I have ever seen a bride who was more so,” Rosaline said.
“Thank you,” Emma said, feeling herself about to become emotional as well. “I could not have done this without either of you.”
“You are very welcome,” Lydia said.
“It was my pleasure, Emma,” Rosaline said. “I truly mean that.”
Emma pulled back and smiled tearfully.
“Come,” Rosaline said, dabbing her eyes. “It is time to get you to the church.”
When the three women arrived, the guests were already seated and waiting. From where she stood, Emma could just make out Francis standing at the altar.
A wave of fear hit her, and for a moment, she wanted to turn and run. The few people who had attended were all of high society, and her previous anxieties returned.
Rosaline seemed to sense her sudden tension. She touched Emma’s arm.
“Everything will be perfectly fine,” Rosaline reminded her.
Emma took a deep breath and tried to calm herself once more. Just then, she felt an arm slip through hers. She looked up to see Marcus smiling down at her.
“Are you ready, little sister?” he asked.
Emma smiled back at him.
“I am, now,” she said.
The wedding passed in a blur for Emma. Her loud heartbeat threatened to drown out the things the clergy was saying as he presided over the wedding, and she feared that she would faint in front of everyone.
Soon enough, however, the clergy announced her as Francis’s wife. Lady Ashfield, she thought, still hardly able to believe it.
Against everything Emma had feared, the wedding had gone smoothly, and the few guests were smiling warmly and giving their warmest congratulations. Emma’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she realized that she could not remember ever being happier than she was at that moment.
This time, as she entered Blackburn Manor, she did so not as a governess, which was a position she would never have again. She did so as the lady of the house, walking into her home.
The manor had felt like home for so long, and now it really would be, forever. It felt as though she was seeing the manor in a new light, and she sighed happily.
Just then, Rowena ran up to her, wrapping her arms around Emma’s waist. Winston was just behind his sister.
“Are you our mommy now?” Rowena asked.
Emma looked at Francis, who was smiling approvingly with tears in his eyes. She motioned for Winston to come to her, as well, and she hugged both the children tightly.
“I am, now, my darlings,” Emma said. “And I plan to take care of you. Always.”
The children squealed with excitement, both of them hugging Emma fiercely. Emma reached for Francis and pulled him close to the three of them. He wrapped an arm around his children and the other around his new wife.
“I love you, Emma,” he whispered against her hair.
“And I love you,” Emma said and tilted her face up to receive his tender kiss on her smiling lips.
The Extended Epilogue
I am humbled you finished reading my novel “A Guiding Light for the Lost Earl”!
Are you aching to know what happens to our lovebirds?
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A Message from Abby
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed every page and I would love to hear your thoughts whether it be a review online or you contact me via my website. I am eternally grateful for you and none of this would be possible without our shared love of romance.
I pray that someday I will get to meet each of you and thank you in person, but in the meantime, all I can do is tell you how amazing you are.
As I prepare my next love story for you, keep believing in your dreams and know that mine would not be possible without you.
With Love,
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