Byron dug the barrel of the gun into her temple at her words, and Hannah cringed. Edmund stepped forward as though to stop him, but Byron must have warned him back with a gesture, for he stopped short.
“Rethink this, Byron,” Edmund pleaded. “We may never have been close, but this is no way for brothers to treat one another.”
“It’s too late for that,” Byron said.
With a look of resignation, Edmund reached behind his back and quickly pulled a pistol from his waistband.
Hannah’s heart began to beat faster with the hope of rescue, but Byron was quick to put a stop to it.
“You’ll never shoot,” he said with a laugh, pulling Hannah tighter toward him. “There is too great a chance you could miss and hit your beloved bride. Oh, how poetic that would be, if you were the one to kill her!”
Edmund said nothing as he lifted the pistol, pulled back the hammer, cocked the gun and looked down its barrel. Hannah trembled for a moment at the steel that covered his eyes as he stared down his brother.
“Let. Her. Go.”
“Don’t shoot him, Edmund,” she said as she blinked away moisture from her eyes, unsure if it was her own tears obscuring her vision or the rain that was pouring in earnest from the sky now. “I won’t let you have another life on your conscience. I couldn’t bear it.”
“Listen to your wife, brother,” Byron snarled. “Now say goodbye.”
Hannah’s heart seemed to leap out of her chest, and when she heard the sound of a gunshot, she squeezed her eyes and let out a scream. She stood there, braced, waiting for whatever was to come next. In an instant, she found herself free of Byron’s grip, and all she heard was silence. Was this perhaps Heaven? Had she not felt anything because she had died upon the bullet’s impact? That was a blessing, at least, she thought, as she finally garnered the courage to open her eyes.
Only to find Edmund rushing up to her, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her hard in his embrace.
* * *
“Hannah, oh Hannah,” Edmund kept murmuring in her ear as he held her close and stroked her hair, her back, her arms, never, however, letting her go.
He didn’t think he ever would again.
“Wh-what happened?” she muttered, pushing back slightly away from him, but he held her face into his chest.
“Byron is… going to need some medical attention.”
Now she really pushed away from him and he finally relented, though he regretted it a few moments later when he felt her intake of breath as she stared down beside them in horror.
“Did you shoot him?”
“No,” Edmund said with the surprise he had initially felt as he gathered her back up in his arms. “He was so worried about hiding himself behind you so I wouldn’t kill him that he left his entire arm out to the side. I was about to shoot his gun hand, even though it would have put you at risk, but then he must have taken a step back or unsettled something, for an entire chunk of what used to be the roof came tumbling down upon him. He seems to be knocked out, though I must say I haven’t checked overly hard to see if he is still breathing as I don’t really care. My God, Hannah, are you all right?”
“I am, yes,” she said, looking up at him, resting her chin upon his chest. “Thank you, Edmund.”
“If it wasn’t for me, this would never have happened.”
“Don’t say that,” she said, and he nearly lost himself in the depths of her eyes, wondering whatever he had done to deserve such a woman.
Suddenly his gaze moved from her to beyond. There, hung as though it had been set there days and not years before, was a picture of a woman staring back at him – one that seemed quite familiar.
“Hannah?” he said quietly, turning her around, though he kept her in his arms, “I think I know what we are supposed to do.”
“You mean with Byron? What—oh.” She finally saw the painting. “She’s beautiful.”
“She has a likeness to you.”
“Perhaps,” Hannah said, tilting her head, “though many differences as well.”
Edmund wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked toward it. He released her only long enough to lift the painting off the half wall and tuck it into the crook of his arm.
“I think we best return this to the house.”
“I think that Isabel would like that – as would Andrew,” she said, smiling up at him. “Now come, we should go find Falton to help you with Byron.”
“We should,” he said with a sigh, and, with her leaning on him, they made their way back to the house, ignoring Byron’s cries behind them.
Epilogue
Hannah curled up in the crook of Edmund’s arm, the two of them sitting on the sofa in his library. She sighed contentedly as she nuzzled up into him.
“Are you all right?” he asked for what she thought must be the thousandth time that day.
“Yes, Edmund,” she said with a slight laugh. “I do wish you would stop asking me. The better question, I think, is if you are all right.”
“I don’t think I will ever be all right again,” he said with a sigh, and she leaned her head back against him.
“You thought that before,” she said, “and things were getting better, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” he finally said slowly, “although perhaps that was wrong. It was as though things were becoming too good, and they had to give somehow.”
“But Edmund,” she insisted, “everything turned out fine. Byron is returning to London as we speak, being carefully watched by Falton. And you know if there was ever a man you could trust, it would be he.”
“I know,” he said, a self-conscious smile curling his lips as his voice caught.
“And,” she continued, “we were able to determine what it was that Andrew and Isabel needed – each other.” Hannah turned around, looking at where they had hung her portrait next to his. “I think they will be happy now, don’t you?”
“You better be, you wily old fox,” he called out, wondering if his great-uncle was even present anymore to hear him.
“I think,” Hannah said slowly, “that they can rest in peace now, for they have one another and can be content in knowing that their story has been revealed. While our story,” she looked up at him with a smile, “will continue on.”
“I cannot believe how close I came to losing you,” he muttered.
“But you didn’t,” she said, lifting her hands to the sides of his face – both the scarred and the unmarred. “Isabel saved us. And the threat is gone now. Byron will be returned to London, and will be watched over to ensure that he can never hurt another.”
She went quiet for a moment. Then, “It is probably for the best this happened, actually.”
Edmund nearly came off the sofa. “How can you say that?”
“Well, can you imagine what he would have done to his wife, had he married, or his children? At least now we know that others will remain safe.”
“You are far too good, Hannah,” he said, looking down at her, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
She looked up at him with a smile. “I love you, Edmund,” she said, “and I always will.”
He pressed his lips against hers, and for a moment she wondered if she would ever hear the words from him.
“I love you too,” he said, and she didn’t think her heart had ever been so full.
“Do you really think you can live here, with me and only me, out in the middle of nowhere?”
“We are not in the middle of nowhere,” she argued. “There is a village nearby, full of wonderful people. And we will have to hire at least another servant or two, especially once we have children.”
She smiled at the thought of it – until she looked at his expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you think… they… our children… will be frightened of me?”
“Of course not,” she said with as much determination as she could muster. “How could they be? For you will show them the same love and protection y
ou show me. And they will love you as much as I do.”
“Someday… when my father passes, I will likely have to see to the other estates if Byron is declared mad. But I’ll find good men to oversee them and will do all I can to remain here. Do you have no desire to return to London?”
Hannah thought it over, remembering the city, the people, the smells…
“Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “Perhaps a visit to my parents now and again, but we can always go see them when they are home for the summer months instead. I am happy out here, Edmund. I love this house. I love the spirits within it. I love the forests that surround it. And most of all – I love you.”
“I’m not always the most companionable of people.”
“Perhaps not,” she said with a laugh. “But after all you have been through… you still have such capacity for love, Edmund, which is more important than anything else.”
“Only because of you,” he said, looking down at her with such affection that her heart seemed like it was reaching out of her body toward him.
“Because we found each other,” she said with a smile.
Behind Edmund’s shoulder, Hannah noticed a candle flicker, as though someone had walked by it. When she looked over at the portraits, she could have sworn she saw their expressions change to smiles. She nudged Edmund, nodding toward the portraits.
He looked at them for a moment before returning his gaze to her, and then the air in the room changed and suddenly Hannah just knew that, finally, they were alone.
Edmund looked down at her, his lips lifting at the corners. “All is right,” he said, and Hannah nodded at him in return.
“It’s as it should be,” she said. “Always your love.”
“And always yours.”
Then their lips found one another in a searing passion – a promise of all they had been through and all that was to come.
Extended Epilogue
Hannah Marshville cherished these moments.
Moments alone. Moments with those she loved the most. Moments away from the world, in this intriguing house, with this beautiful family she and Edmund had created.
She took a deep, satisfied breath, opening her eyes as she took her paintbrush in her hand and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa. She swirled the orange and yellow paints together to create the perfect hue as she tried to capture the fire, the flickering of the flames that her son was currently so enraptured with.
“Careful, Simon!” she couldn’t help but call out, causing Edmund to look back at her with a smile that was lovingly understanding and Hannah couldn’t help but shrug. The worry never rested – even if her husband was holding both children in his arms.
Her four-year-old followed his father’s gaze and turned to grin cheekily at her, a look which she returned. It was hard not to smile at Simon, who seemed to understand that there was no match for his charm.
She had sketched and painted her husband and children enough times to fill an entire art gallery, and still, she could always paint more.
It was hard to believe this was her life, that she and Edmund had found such happiness in a home that, at one time, had been filled with such misery.
“Mama?”
“Yes, darling?” she said, putting down her paintbrush and accepting that she likely would not have the opportunity to paint much longer while the children were still awake. And that was just fine.
“Can I paint?”
“Of course, Katie,” she said, flipping over the page to a new sheet of canvas and moving out of the way for her daughter to paint instead. Edmund and Simon began a game of dominoes on the floor, and Hannah sat back and took in the blissful scene in front of her.
Simon laughed at something Edmund said and she smiled. Edmund had been so worried that his children would be afraid of him, or ashamed of him, but the opposite couldn’t be truer. Unlike the relationships between parents and children that Hannah had grown up with in society, she and Edmund had created a real home here, a real family, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Her smile fell as her stomach flipped over, and she stood abruptly enough to catch Edmund’s attention and concerned stare.
“Hannah? Is everything all—”
She didn’t have time to listen to him finish his sentence, however, for she was already running down the hall as fast as she could.
~~~~~
“Hannah?”
Edmund pushed open the door of their bedchamber after he finished putting Simon and Katie to bed. His niggling worry about his wife wouldn’t leave him, but he knew not to push Hannah. She would tell him what she needed to in her own time.
“Yes?”
She whirled around from her place at the vanity, putting down the brush, and he was arrested by the sight of her long, golden-brown locks. He walked over and took the brush from her, turning her around as he pulled up a chair behind her and pulled her back into the vee of his thighs.
He ran the brush through her hair, and she sighed as she closed her eyes and leaned back into his touch. He knew how much she loved the feeling of another brushing her hair, but the truth was, he took just as much pleasure from it as she did.
When her tangles were gone and her hair was shining in the flicker of the candlelight beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, nuzzling his face into her neck.
He inhaled, breathing in the lavender scent that always accompanied her.
“Now that the kids are in bed…”
“Yes?” she opened her beautiful, wide brown eyes and met his in the mirror.
He smiled, knowing what she was expecting, but he surprised her.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
“A walk?” she asked, startled, and he nodded into her shoulder.
“A walk. We’ll ask Mrs. Ackerman to listen for the children, just in case.”
“Sure,” she said with a nod. “A walk would be lovely.”
They found their cloaks and headed out, through the grounds that were now a flourishing landscape and into the night sky, the moon shining the path in front of them as they walked, unspoken, toward the ruins beyond.
Edmund wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in close, and he leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder, just where she belonged.
She sighed, and he looked down at her, kissing her head. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course it is,” she said. “It couldn’t be better.” She tilted her head up toward him. “Why did you want to walk?”
“I had some news to share, and I wasn’t sure when would be the right time.”
“Oh?”
“With Byron’s growing madness, my father has been having some trouble overseeing everything. He has asked that I come to London for a few weeks now and again, to help him with things.”
Hannah nodded slowly. “We knew this day would come.”
“We did,” Edmund said. “I cannot truthfully say that I relish the thought of returning, but at the same time, I’m not sure what else to do.”
“Well, I suppose we go and spend some time there, see our families, and in the meantime, you start hiring the people that you know can best help look after everything. We can return now and again as needed.”
He squeezed her in tighter. “One of the very many reasons that I love you,” he said, “is your ability to make everything seem so simple.”
She laughed lightly, looking over the old ruins that stretched out in front of them.
“Do you think we should be rid of these?” she asked, gesturing toward them. “I’m worried sometimes, that the children will get into here and hurt themselves.”
Edmund eyed them, understanding what she was saying.
“I agree with you, although I must say that it somehow seems… wrong to take them away.”
“I know.”
“I’ll speak to Felton. Perhaps we can clean them up without actually being rid of them. Take away some of the pieces that could fall, remove debris from the
ground.”
“That sounds perfect.”
She turned in his arms, and he wrapped them around her back.
“How did I get so lucky as to be with you?”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said, his heart swelling to the extent that he wondered how it remained in his chest – although the truth was, part of it was out here, walking around in front of him. “To have you, and Simon and Katie, it’s more than I ever would have dreamed for myself. Who ever thought, that Byron’s tryst with that young woman – who, I am told, did find herself a respectable enough husband, if not as titled as they would have hoped – would have led to such happiness for us? I always knew my life would be here, at Hollingswood, but was convinced it would be alone. Except for Felton, of course.”
“Of course,” she said with a laugh but then sobered. “I have some news myself. You are going to have to make a bit more room in your heart.”
“For Felton? He is already there, although please don’t ever actually tell him that.”
“No,” she shook her head, lifting her eyes to his. “For another little one.”
“Another…” his eyes widened and his heart seemed to stop for a moment. “Truly?”
He leaned back and placed his hands over her flat stomach.
“Yes,” she exclaimed, laughing at his shocked expression. “Truly.”
He picked her up, twirling her around before setting her down and thoroughly kissing her, pouring all his love for her into the kiss that he never wanted to end.
Finally he had to pull away, only so that he could lead her back to the house.
“Edmund.”
She tugged on his arm, and he stopped with her, following her finger, which was pointing up to the sky.
“Look,” she breathed, and he blinked, not trusting what was in front of him.
“It couldn’t be,” he shook his head.
Always Your Love: A Gothic Regency Romance Page 9