She slowed her steps and he followed suit. She lifted her face toward his and he smiled at her silent invitation. Without a word, Thomas cupped her face and lowered his mouth to meet hers in a kiss of promise, a kiss of hope, a kiss to invite a thousand more.
Epilogue
August
Thomas jumped from the carriage pulled by two butter-colored horses—a wedding gift from Lord and Lady Fielding—before reaching up to help Amber from the seat. She gathered her skirts in preparation to step down, but Thomas’s hands grasped her waist and lifted her to the ground instead.
He rarely let an opportunity to touch her pass him by, and she had become quite accustomed to the brush of his hand across her shoulders when he passed behind her or his hand resting on hers when they sat beside one another in the library, to say nothing of his arms around her at night and the kisses he planted on her smooth head whenever she was without a covering.
After meeting with the local physician—whom Suzanne had told her to consult months ago—Amber had accepted that she would likely never have a full return of her hair, though she currently had her left eyebrow and some regrowth near the back of her head. Dr. Marsh, unlike the doctor in London, had seen similar conditions, which he said were related to the body’s ability to grow hair. She was at peace with it, though at night she sometimes dreamed of what she’d once taken for granted.
Thomas brushed her cheek and she smiled. She had no complaint for the reminders of his affection, but since typical British society was not so demonstrative, his affection in public concerned her. In this way, however, as in many others, Thomas had little concern for convention. Even after placing her firmly on the street he did not release her and instead tipped his head so it fit beneath the brim of her bonnet and kissed her soundly.
“You are a scoundrel, Mr. Richards,” she said when he pulled away.
“Only with you, Mrs. Richards.”
She laughed as Thomas paid a boy to care for the carriage and horses for the duration of their appointment with Mr. Peters.
Once in the solicitor’s office, they were shown to a room where they sat side by side at the large table. When Mr. Peters entered a minute later, Amber ignored the slightly narrowed look he gave her; women did not usually accompany their husbands on errands of business. Thomas, however, had felt that since it was her matter of business as well it was only fair that she attend.
She had been right that there were those of their society who did not welcome them, but Thomas had also been correct in the fact that his family, and a handful of others, had embraced them far more than Amber had expected. Lady Fielding had even thrown a ball at Peakview Manor in their honor, which had been well attended and filled with congratulations and well wishes.
Mr. Peters sat opposite them and began explaining the different papers he had brought with him. He gave them to Thomas to sign, who gave them to Amber to look over though only Thomas’s signature was required for the legalities. It took nearly half an hour before Thomas and Amber had signed the final page. Mr. Peters gathered the papers and tapped them together on the tabletop.
“I shall have this recorded straightaway,” he said. “The new title shall be delivered to you within a month’s time.”
“Excellent,” Thomas said, standing along with Amber. “Please share our thanks with Lord Marchent for the ease of this transaction and assure him that his daughter is doing well.”
“And is quite happy,” Amber added, keeping her smile in place though Mr. Peters did not return it.
She did not believe her father cared all that much for her happiness, but perhaps some part buried beneath his presentation and social position would like to know of her contentment all the same. She had not seen her parents since Darra’s wedding ball, though Darra and Lord Sunther had attended Amber’s wedding at the Northallerton church in May.
Today, her marriage settlement—Step Cottage and the lands connected to it—had been properly joined to Thomas’s land, increasing their combined holdings by nearly forty percent and further ensuring their future. Currently, she and Thomas were living at Step Cottage until their house was built. That they lived so far from town without a daily servant was but one more thing to shock the county. What would they think when Thomas drew up his will dividing his land equally between their future sons and daughters?
They exited the office to the welcoming blue of the Yorkshire summer sky. Thomas assisted Amber back into the carriage and then took his position behind the reins. “To the Larsens?” he asked.
“Yes,” Amber said, checking the watch pinned to her bodice. She was glad for having allowed additional time between appointments so as not to be late for supper, which would be served promptly at five o’clock. “How do you think Suzanne will react to our happy news?”
“The happy news of the land transaction?” Thomas asked with his eyebrows lifted in mock sincerity.
“Of course,” Amber said with equal playfulness. “She shall be ever so excited about the land transaction. Why would I think her excitement would be for any other purpose?”
Thomas’s broad hand on her belly caused a lump in her throat as she reflected on how truly happy she was. She placed her own hand over his and her heart filled with gratitude for a man such as this, who she knew would love their child regardless of what afflictions he or she might face, who would value a daughter as highly as a son, and who would do all he could to allow them to find their own happiness in life. A father with such a progressive mind and open heart were the greatest things she could ever give to her children.
Thomas leaned toward her and smiled widely. “Suzanne shall know, perhaps better than any but the two of us, just how wonderful this truly is. Ten to one the woman gives in to tears.”
Amber smiled. “You do not know her as well as I do. She was the only one not crying at the wedding.”
Thomas frowned. “Must you bring that up again? I told you I had something in my eye.”
Amber placed her hand on the side of his face. “Oh, how I love you, Mr. Richards.”
“Then come on, and kiss me, Kate.”
She did as he’d requested and hoped that the kiss communicated all the things she felt. It might take a lifetime to assure this man of all he had given her, but she was determined to see that he never questioned his choice. She was sure that she would not.
Author’s note
The condition Amber suffers from is now called Alopecia Areata, an autoimmune disorder where the hair follicles essentially die and therefore no longer grow hair. There are varying degrees of Alopecia Areata, but the one represented here is Alopecia Universalis, which presents itself as a complete—universal—loss of body hair and accounts for approximately 10 percent of Alopecia diagnoses.
Though modern research has found treatments that have been helpful for some, for many patients the hair loss is irreversible and cyclical, continuing throughout their life. The condition is often hereditary but there is not yet a cure.
In the early nineteenth century, there was no name for this disorder, but I believe that the fear and insecurity was likely not much different than it is now. Identity, appearance, and social expectation is something each of us face, and so I hope that the difficulties and eventual acceptance Amber faced is something we can each relate to in our own way.
You can find more information, and read the stories of real people living with this disease, on the website for the National Alopecia Areata Foundation: www.naaf.org.
Acknowledgments
The very first book I ever dared write—way back when—was a Regency romance novel. I had read hundreds of them and had wanted to show off all I had learned about the time period. That book will likely never see the light of day—I might have known the time period but I did not know how to write—but revisiting the genre that first made me think I had a story of my own to tell was fabulous.
I owe big thanks to my writing group, Nancy Allen, Becki Clayson, Jody Durfee, Ronda Hinrichsen, and Jenifer Moore for enc
ouraging me and helping me find my voice. Jen and Nancy, specifically, provided me with research materials and fact checking that helped immensely.
Once I finished the story, Jennifer Moore and my sisters, Jenifer Johnson and Crystal White, read the book and helped me know where to improve. I am indebted to those people in my life who trust me with their honest feedback in order to make me better.
Big thanks to everyone at Shadow Mountain for believing in this project and making it happen. Specifically, Heidi Taylor, Lisa Mangum, Suzanne Brady, Heather Ward, Malina Grigg, Karen Zelnick, Michelle Moore, and Ilise Levine. I so appreciate my relationship with the team of people at Shadow Mountain, and I have loved working with them on something new.
Hugs and thanks to my family, especially my husband Lee, who is the basis for every romance I write. I am greatly blessed.
About the Author
Josi S. Kilpack published her first novel in 2000. Her seventh novel, Sheep’s Clothing, won the 2007 Whitney Award for Mystery/Suspense—several others have been finalists in subsequent years. She was also the Best of State winner for fiction in Utah 2012. She has written twenty-two novels, including the twelve-volume Sadie Hoffmiller Culinary Mystery Series.
Josi currently lives in Willard, Utah. For more information about Josi, you can visit her website at www.josiskilpack.com.
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