Hawthorne’s Wife
Page 29
“Thank you.”
He took her hand, and her fingers curled against his, drawing strength from him as he had always drawn strength from her. A ray of sunlight stretched across the room. The light diffracted to form a myriad of colors which illuminated the letters on her mother’s stone.
A sign from heaven. Perhaps Frederick Stanford was declaring, from beyond the grave, that Hawthorne had finally proved himself worthy of her.
He drew her to him and brushed her lips in a soft kiss.
“Come, my love,” he said. “Let’s take you home.”
Hand in hand, they ascended the steps and walked out into the light where the mist was already beginning to clear.
The End
About the Author
Emily Royal grew up in Sussex, England, and has devoured romantic novels for as long as she can remember. A mathematician at heart, Emily has worked in financial services for over twenty years. She indulged in her love of writing after she moved to Scotland, where she lives with her husband, teenage daughters and menagerie of rescue pets including Twinkle, an attention-seeking boa constrictor.
She has a passion for both reading and writing romance with a weakness for Regency rakes, Highland heroes, and Medieval knights. Persuasion is one of her all-time favorite novels which she reads several times each year and she is fortunate enough to live within sight of a Medieval palace.
When not writing, Emily enjoys playing the piano, hiking, and painting landscapes, particularly the Highlands. One of her ambitions is to paint, as well as climb, every mountain in Scotland.
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