Page 105 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“I’ve concluded my business here,” Jeremy said,helping Sarah to her feet. “Continue on with your parliamentary bills. We’re leaving this afternoon.”
With that, he escorted Sarah from the study. They walked straight out the front door together, down to the street, where they strode arm in arm. The world passed in streaks of unformed color. Jeremy barely noticed. He might not ever be received back into his father’s home. The anchor had been raised, and he sailed on unexplored waters. Would there be tempests ahead? Or unknown lands, ripe for exploring?
He would find out. On his own. But not alone.
Sarah seemed to float beside him, wearing the same dazed expression that he felt. “Why?” she asked after several moments. “Why did you do that?”
“There wasn’t any alternative,” he replied.
“Untrue,” she answered. “You had a choice. Me, or your family. And you picked me,” she said wonderingly.
He stopped walking, heedless of the pedestrians around them. All he saw was her. Taking hold of her, he said, “Youare my family now.”
“Jeremy,” she said, then pressed her lips together, as if to stop herself from weeping.
“My happiness and my love,” he continued. “That’s what you are. That’s all I need. I need you. And the Lady. All of you. And,” he went on, “we’ll work together to make certain we have everything we want. Everything we need. Because I love you, Sarah.”
She cradled his face in her hands. Gems of tears glinted on her eyelashes. “What of the future?”
He smiled. “We are the authors of our destinies. If there’s anybody’s quill I trust, it’s yours.”
Epilogue
And so, dear reader, for many months, Jacob and I decided to live part of the year in London, and part of the year in the country. We knew unending ecstasy, having found it in the most unlikely place.
The Highwayman’s Seduction
One year later
Opening night of one of Lady Marwood’s new burlettas at the Imperial Theater always caused excitement and anticipation. Crowds packed the theater’s lobby as well as the street outside, where people jostled to secure tickets to another eagerly awaited production.
Jeremy and Sarah wove their way through the throng, maneuvering past the hordes of would-be audience members. They didn’t have to worry about being admitted to the theater, as Maggie had made certain to set aside tickets at the box office.
In one of their twice-monthly gatherings at Catton’s, Maggie had confided to Sarah and Eleanor thatshe never grew tired of looking out from behind the curtains of the theater and watching the seats fill.
“After all this time,” she’d confessed, “I still can’t believe that a ragman’s daughter like me could draw a crowd—for the right reasons.”
“That’s sham humility, Mags,” Eleanor had chided with good humor.
“So speaks the woman whose scandal rag has a circulation of thousands,” Sarah had laughed.
“Thus decrees the lady with readers on the Continent and the Americas, let alone here in soggy Britain,” Maggie teased. Sarah had lately begun publishing fairy stories under her own name. She continued her anonymous work as the Lady of Dubious Quality—but Eleanor and Maggie didn’t know that. The Lady’s story of Lady Josephina and the professor,A Study in Love,outsold all her other titles, with the emphasis on romance generating even more readers. She had been quite inspired in writing the book, and she continued to enjoy her inspiration.
Sarah sometimes felt bad for not telling her friends about her other writing activities, but it was for the best to preserve the security of her identity. There was always the chance of scandal if it was revealed that Lady Sarah Cleland, duke’s daughter, married to a former vicar turned publisher, wrote such salacious material.
Every other Thursday, Sarah met with Maggie and Eleanor at Catton’s. The three of them made most unladylike sounds over their cakes and tea, causing more than a few heads to turn in their direction. But none of them cared, especially Sarah. She had friends now,truefriends who didn’t pity or insult her. Who shared her love of writing and understood the difficulties and joys of the work.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed the friendship of other women until she’d finally possessed it, and now she counted the two female writers as honorary sisters. Better than sisters, because they didn’t have the burden of family connections.
Maggie had been worried about the reception of her newest work,Along Came Love. It was a matter of course that Sarah and Jeremy would be present in the theater to support her on opening night.
“It’s a crush,” Sarah said now over the din in the lobby.
“That’ll make Maggie happy,” Jeremy answered, raising his voice.
“One would think so,” Sarah replied. Maggie was a terrible perfectionist, holding herself to higher and higher standards the more successful she became. Thank goodness for Cam, who kept his wife grounded through his dry wit and ardent devotion.
Finally, Sarah and Jeremy breached the lobby and made their way up toward the box held in reserve. Jeremy looked devastatingly handsome in his dark evening dress—though ever since he’d left the Church, he’d continued to wear sober, plain clothing, as if he couldn’t quite adopt the life of a layman. Though his departure from the Church had been entirely voluntary, he’d confessed late one night that there would always be a part of him that remained a vicar. She didn’t mind—not when he still had the sensual appetite of one devoted to pleasure.
