His voice was strong and unwavering. His recitation of the facts was flat and devoid of emotion. He knew these details by heart. The words were carefully chosen, and strung together with great precision. I suspected over the years, and particularly the times he had searched for the documents, he had gone over his actions and the reasoning behind them. Little else could account for the faultlessness of his commentary. No doubt he would also have been judicious in how he explained it to Anne. Whether she created her haven in order to hide the packet, or it was a felicitous spot to do so, was of no matter.

"I remained at Belsom Park after the rest of the guests left. I took a bottle and found an empty bedroom where I proceeded to drink myself into a fine stupor. That is the luxury of being friends with a wealthy host; he provides the drink and the bed in which to sleep it off. I was awakened the next morning by a foul-humoured little man who said the admiral expected me down to breakfast immediately. I, of course, complied, and over a glass of the-hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-me, I poured out our sad little tragedy to my friend. After proclaiming myself useless to you, I declared I would return to sea so as not to have to watch the sorry business unfold. It was then Patrick told me he had a better plan.

"It seemed a man was making enquiries about Elliot and his business associations. Naturally he had tried to introduce himself to McGillvary, as it was common knowledge Elliot and the admiral had dealings. Patrick had been ignoring the gent, but had reconsidered having heard our story. He would now be quite interested in seeing what John Shepherd, late of Somerset, might want."

At the mention of that name, my fingers twitched and the papers nearly slipped from my fingers. "Did you know, at the time, that Shepherd was my father's lawyer?" My heart was beating faster than I thought possible.

"Not in the beginning. Eventually it became common knowledge. Your father and Kellynch were never primary to the affair. The Hall only figured in later."

"Why would Mr Shepherd inquire into William's business dealings?" I reached out and touched his hand.

He didn't look up at me, but smiled and stroked my hand.

"When his daughter came to Bath as your sister's companion, she left, in the care of the Shepherds, her two children. The Shepherds knew their daughter had gone terribly wrong, and it was their hope that they might do better by the grandchildren. They wished to adopt them, but once this was mentioned to their daughter, she used this generous inclination against them. The slightest noise of disapproval over her behaviour caused her to threaten to remove them." He stopped and looked at me for the first time.

He was measuring me, and how I was responding. I looked at him without flinching and was certain he possessed nothing more that might shock me. Nothing could chill my insides more than knowing he had a hand in Anne's deepest shame. I shivered involuntarily and he went off to another part of the attic. As I listened to him shift things in his search, I read again the papers. What they said was just as awful the second time.

Frederick returned with a heavy coat I think was his, and a few half-burnt candles. He saw me bundled, and then lit another candle for the desk. "Shepherd could no longer endure the torture of his daughter's threats, so he offered her his not unsubstantial legal knowledge in exchange for the children. He told her if there were anything she wanted in the legal line, he would do whatever he must for her. She was determined to marry a man who already had a wife. A man with whom she was having an affair."

My fingers twitched again, and the papers slipped to the floor. "William." I was not shocked by the revelation.

He nodded and picked up the papers. "A flirtation began shortly after her arrival in Bath. It cooled for a time, but after he married, for his own reasons, he proposed an affair. She accepted, for her own reasons. The woman is not overly endowed with intelligence, but she is smart enough to understand he brought money to the marriage, but that earning his fortune by marrying the granddaughter of a grazier cost him some respectability and that your heritage was enough to nearly restore his social fortunes. Was he to divorce you, there were doors that would be closed to him until he inherited the title. He is a greedy man and wanted everything immediately. She was greedy too. She liked the idea of being Lady Elliot one day, and that could only come about if the marriage ended. So, she told her father what she wanted and left it up to him to arrange it for her. Mr Shepherd having a great incentive set about finding Elliot's weakest spot."

Frederick reached into the breast pocket of his coat and brought out a small flask. "Just a sip, it's strong."

I heeded his words, but I suppose I was so shocked by all of it that even the strong taste of whatever he carried had no effect. It was all very ridiculous, and at the same time civilised. I was the single member of the audience being entertained by the narrative of my own destruction, and now we were at the tea interval. My instinct was to have a walk about the room, but I knew my legs would not hold me. As we were being so nonchalant, perhaps I should ask for Frederick to give me his arm!

"You look dreadful. You need some food." The words in themselves were of little comfort, but everything about him, his looks, his tone, was sweet pity itself. I passed back the flask and touched his fingers. They were cold. For the first time since entering the room we looked at one another for more than an instant. He put away the flask and continued.

"It didn't take Shepherd long to hear reports of Elliot's …intimate associations."

Despite the cold of the attic, and apart from the heavy coat, I grew warm. To know your closest circle of friends would not hesitate in gossiping about your most personal details was one thing, but to have them shared with a stranger was a mortification that stung me deeply. "Yes, in our circle, there are lots of those … intimate associations."

Frederick stood still and studied me again. He was making a choice of some sort. The decision was made and he rested his hip on the desk. "William Elliot is the sort of man who likes pain. To give it, not receive it." The decision to tell me this was made, but he was being careful, measuring me with every word. "There are places in London where, for a price, one can inflict as much pain as one likes on  … others" As he made his revelations, I could feel heat spreading over my cheeks. He thankfully changed the direction of his narrative. "This is the sort of thing I spoke about that night you came to my room." Again he paused, and then rose and removed himself to the small window encompassed by the makeshift walls of the retreat. "I have never seen Anne unclothed. It wasn't until you and I … that I was able to see there are no marks on her. I still fear he harmed her in other ways."

What he said was repulsive enough if spoken of in generalities, but to know that it was specific to Anne—to me, I was nearly overcome with nausea. When Frederick said he was frantic to do something, it was now understandable. He thought Anne in genuine, physical danger, not just the object of ridicule because of her husband's dalliances. I asked if he had told her this.

"I wanted to. But as I said that night, to speak of it was to let her know that I knew her secret." He turned and faced me. "I wanted her to understand why I became a part of Shepherd's scheme, why I lent a hand in giving Elliot the push out of her life, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. She thought as you do, that I engineered it to have her for myself."

His body said everything. He stood before me, his hands clasped behind him. There was nothing between us that he might hide behind. I now knew everything that compelled him to act. I could also understand why, with only pieces of the puzzle, Anne chose to reject his actions and wrap herself in pain and anger.

"You should have told her everything."

If he disagreed, he did not show it. He returned to the desk. "As I said, Shepherd came quickly to know of Elliot's personal debaucheries. In your set, they would not lose him any respect with the most important people. The only harm to come from divulging them was to his wife and that was not Shepherd's aim, so he looked elsewhere." He tried hard to ease my embarrassment. Frederick's revulsion for William was conspicuous, and there were still flames of anger burning against my dear husband, but the waters of his confession were cooling them little by little. He flicked gently at the quill shavings. He picked up one and put it in the flame of the candle. Soon the acrid scent of the burning bit filled the space.

"Naturally, business was the place to inflict the most lasting damage. With the right information, that was the place where Elliot could be brought to his knees. When the Admiral understood Shepherd's aims would fit so perfectly with mine, he asked me to join the meetings. It was soon clear that McGillvary and Shepherd had ferreted out enough evidence concerning Elliot's dealings with foreigners, to bring him, if we chose, to trial for treason. The proper authorities would feast on what was uncovered. With the weight of two officers of the Navy to testify, the likelihood of him being hanged was great."

My dislike of William was great as well, but the idea of him being hanged was chilling. I wanted to move away from the subject, but all paths in this tangled tale seemed to lead in the same direction. "How then, if they were business partners, could Admiral McGillvary not be implicated?" The question had nothing to do with us, but I was curious.

"Elliot and the Admiral are not partners exactly. They have a close association in some domestic business, unrelated to anything foreign. They are in a few of the same clubs in Town. That is where their association ends." He flexed his hand. "Patrick is willing to turn a profit by what I may consider some questionable means, no doubt, but they are always turns of the philosophical wheel and not legal questions. Elliot is smart enough to do the same, but he is too greedy, and too arrogant, I think." He outlined an unseen shape on the blotter.

I had to move from my seat, the explanation and questions it raised were swirling in my mind and making me anxious. I settled by a small barrel sitting on a crate. "It was your hand that wrote the request Kellynch be turned over to Will. What made you do that?" I was less inclined to think it an act to benefit only him, but a certain amount of suspicion remained.

He looked away from me, and clasped his hands. "I did not wish to see either you or your son damaged in all this. A divorce would be expensive and I knew the bastard would not hesitate selling out Will's birthright to keep himself afloat. Shepherd assured me a solid trust would be the best instrument to prevent that from happening." He still looked away and rubbed his neck.

I wanted desperately to believe him. I prayed earnestly he could make me believe. "And the trust would also provide you with an elegant home after convincing me to marry you." The words were out before I knew it. But, if he was truly honest …

He looked immediately into my eyes and slowly shook his head. "The protection of you and your son were my only thoughts. While I always harboured hopes for you and me, if you had absolutely refused me, I would have ever remained a friend, and pursued nothing more." He looked away. His jaw flexed, and he shuddered a bit when he took a deep breath.

His expression was the same on that dreadful day I broke our engagement. At the time, I had mistaken it as wounded pride, and comforted myself that there was no real damage to his heart, but only a blow to his puffed-up maleness. Over the years, I had come to realise this was not a façade, but was the look of a honourable man when doubt was cast upon his most deep and true nature.

"Elliot was supposed to stay out of the country once the papers were all signed. He was to take Penelope Clay and freely go. There was a lot of muttering about the beautiful countryside of Italy." He rose and joined me. "At our last meeting, he did say that one day he would undo all our hard work. He is a very confident man."

It was this admission that galled him the most, I think. Frederick too is a confident man. But his confidence is built upon his intelligence and honour.  William's confidence is built upon the knowledge that he can manipulate and, when necessary, obtain by threat of violence what he wishes.

Frederick smiled. "And you being a clever girl could not help but notice he was not in Italy this summer. His very presence proves I have failed in my attempt to protect you and Will."

"Just how did he undo all your careful work?"

Frederick rubbed his neck, then his jaw. I suspect he was in pain from clinching it so hard. "He shocked me by showing up not long after we married. He was testing the waters. He pointed out that as I was now married to you, and playing father to his son, it would not be my wish for you to be humiliated again. I would not wish to bring scandal on the family."

I thought about this for a moment. I must have looked puzzled as Frederick went on.

"The terms of the … agreement were that he would stay out of the country and that we would keep private the documents which proved he had been selling goods to countries unfriendly to the Crown. Against the law, and my own conscience, I would keep his treason to myself." He paused, it was clear this unfaithfulness still gave him pain. "It was to no avail. He crept back into the country, found me and pointed out that were I to turn him in, I would make Will the son of a man hanged for treason, and forever connect you with an even bigger scandal than the divorce."

With the last word he was completely spent. Taking a seat at the desk, he rubbed his neck and leant over the blotter. Anyone not knowing him might not notice, but I knew. The normally rigid posture was softened and the normally keen eye, dull. The secret was out and telling it had exhausted him.

I was exhausted as well. This was, in so many ways, not my secret to know. Passing over the past five years and living Anne's present life was a happy accident. Or, perhaps there was a plan of greater understanding at work. I could not tell which it might be. Whichever it was, I should not be here and I should not have to grant absolution to a man I had come to love so wholly.

"This is what has been between you and her." It was not a question, just a statement of fact.

"Yes."

"You said that you had searched for the documents, but did not find them."

"I looked all over this house."

"Obviously she knew that and possibly moved them in anticipation of your searches." Again, Anne amazed me with her attraction to any action bound to cause her harm or pain. But then I wondered aloud how she had come by the packet in the first place.

"Remember my telling you I went to Bath on business at a critical time in her pregnancy? Elliot made a visit while I was away. I think, while visiting the Shepherds, he stole his father-in-law's copies of the papers. And while he did not directly cause Anne to miscarry our son, I do blame him for exacerbating the situation. Telling her produced such grief in her mind that she could find no comfort afterward."

I was perplexed as to which one of them deserved the greater portion of my anger. William certainly deserved much of it. I knew his abuses first hand, but not like Anne would have. His cruelties had possibly driven her to a sort of madness that had poisoned her love for Frederick. But then Frederick was not without guilt either. His desire to save her from William's private evils had brought her shame and censure. Both men, for very different reasons, had destroyed her.

The attic felt as though it was closing tightly in around us when Frederick stood and gathered up the papers. He carefully wrapped them. "Elliot will be waiting for these, and as we know not what he wishes, we had better take them down." He pinched out the extra candles and brought me the bundle. "You can give them to him. I'll put the coat back."

I pulled the coat close. "I wish to keep this." I hesitated and then took the damnable bundle. The weight of it made me think I now carried all the vicious burdens not only of this household, but of the lives of two generations.

He nodded, raised the candle, and guided me downstairs.

We entered the room to find William holding up a paperweight to the light.

"It is a shark's tooth." Frederick showed me to the chair I had occupied earlier, and took up his place behind me.

William lowered the weight and looked at Frederick. "Ah, yes, the things you must find walking the beaches of the world." He replaced the glass sphere and came to us. As he was about to take the packet from me, Frederick smiled and picked it up.

"Actually, I shot it myself. It had killed one of my crew who had fallen into the water. The stupid devil swam about waiting for more and was killed for his trouble."

"It is good to see that you at least do not kill without provocation. So many do." He looked at me. "Like Musgrove. He'll hoist a gun to his shoulder without the least thought." He looked at Frederick. "You are too honourable a man, I suppose. You'd never kill just for the sport of it."

"Oh, I can think of a beast or two I would gladly kill, without the slightest provocation."

There were certainly no direct threats being offered, but the edge on these sallies was worrisome. They were testing the waters and I was not sure if there might be blood in it before the day was out.

William pointed at the packet. "You had the chance, Wentworth, and had not the stomach to use the weapon."

"I had others to consider."

"A handy excuse."

"And you expect we will just hand it all over to you?" Frederick's voice sounded calm now. I glance up and noticed his colour reduced to a more normal shade of pink. "The scheme did not produce all I had hoped for, but to give you all that damming evidence now is presuming quite a lot. I feel a measure of safety with this evidence in my possession." I thought that an odd statement considering what its presence had done to his marriage.

William shook his head. "You flatter yourself, captain." He looked Frederick up and down. "In the course of business, I am occasionally in the company of someone who knows you and fancies you to be quite a clever man. To be honest, sir, I am at a loss to know how why that misbegotten notion is so prevalent. In the grand scheme of things, you are safe from me as you have nothing I want." He glanced down at me and then back to Frederick.

Neither man moved. William's gaze did not leave Frederick's direction for an instant. A gauntlet was thrown down and a response was expected. A light touch on my shoulder made me know he'd made his choice. Frederick said nothing.

William's remark that he wanted nothing was aimed at me, and particularly our son. Whether it was true or not, I wanted to speak so I might be clear as to who I supported. "But you do want the paper awfully badly. What if there is something we want?" They ignored me.

The silence was maddening. Eventually, William appreciated he had not goaded Frederick. He glanced at me again, and continued. "Had you read the letter, Captain, or given it to its rightful owner, you would have known that I proposed a traded." He took from his coat a sheet of paper. He wagged it at us. "This is a document which relinquishes all claim to William as my son."

I rose. I could hear Frederick close behind. "You would disown your son—for what?" I pointed to the papers. "For bits of paper that can ruin your precious reputation?" William Elliot was more repulsive to me now than he had ever been when we were married.

William had met my gaze when I spoke, but now looked to Frederick. "This will allow you to give him your name. He will be your son, in fact and in the eyes of the law. And, as a gentleman, I vow to never return to Kellynch Hall again." He crossed his arms.

The latter promise was laughable. But the rest of the offer was everything we wanted. It was so simple and elegant. The agent by which he had destroyed all trust between Anne and Frederick would be carried away by the hand that had brought it. At any time over the past years he could have signed away his rights as a father, but Providence chose now for him to be so moved. It was all a complex morality play that I could not presently follow, but I knew to refuse it would be the most foolish thing possible.

Frederick's touch was light on my shoulder and as I turned to speak to him, he spoke to William. "I am sure you know these are not the only copies. I never had any myself, but McGillvary has the originals." Suddenly I feared he was not inclined to accept William's offer. Perhaps William had been right about Frederick not wishing anything about that reminded him of my past. Perhaps now that included my son.

William smiled. "And that is why you will write out a letter telling your friend how all is forgotten, and that you wish him to give his copies to me." The smile dimmed somewhat. "Let us be honest, Captain, this has always been between my father-in-law and me. You joined in only because it suited your purposes concerning my wife. The Admiral never had any real standing in this at all. In fact, I am sure he will be glad to be out of it." He was excited by the prospect of having what he wanted. His normally pale complexion was growing rosy with anticipation. He waved the pages. "It is all up to you, sir."

Frederick leant down. "Come with me." I rose and he took my hand. "We will return in a moment." I followed him to the sitting room across the entryway. The room was dark and he pulled me close. "Do you want this?" His face was in shadow, and the tone of his voice was urgent.

There had never been any doubt on my part. The question made me think there was on his. "We talked about this months ago. You know my answer. Why do you ask me this?" I feared the answer.

He moved closer. "I've seen the disappointment on your face today. Now that you've learnt of my deception, I don't believe you regard me as you did before. I could not blame you if you no longer wish me to be Will's father." The rhythm of his breathing was steady. As there was only a low fire in the room, I could feel the warmth of his breath. I shivered and he took me in his arms. "I'll give him whatever he wishes," he whispered in my ear.

"And that is precisely why I do want you to be Will's father." I buried my face in his neck cloth and breathed in his scent. The warmth and strength of his arms assured me that the scheme with McGillvary had been to protect me. No, it had been to protect her. Hiding the letter had been to protect his growing love for me. "Will and Edward would be true brothers. I like that."

We returned to the room, its warmth in comparison to the sitting room was almost stifling. William was again at the desk, arranging some papers. "I have taken the liberty of writing out your letter to Admiral McGillvary. All you need do is sign it and put your seal on it, Captain." He offered the quill Frederick had been using earlier.

Frederick remained by my side. "How do you know I will accept your offer?" He would sign the letter, and he would give the documents to William. But, he would have his own curiosity satisfied as well.

William was annoyed. "You have managed to get back in her good graces and you will do whatever you must to keep Anne happy." He looked at me. "And what makes her happy is to have me out of our son's life." He winked.

I shivered involuntarily. I had never thought of it so blatantly before, perhaps because I never thought it possible. Having William Elliot so totally divided from my son, and therefore me, would free us all forever. Or for as long as William was willing to abide by the rules. I was determined to seize whatever happiness his absence would allow us. "Then let us get on with this."

Frederick looked at me with a raised brow as he offered his hand.

He was allowing me to guide his steps. As we approached the desk, a strange feeling came over me. I suddenly knew everything would be all right.

It wasn't as if I really believed there would never be a speck of trouble out of William. In fact, I was quite sure he would be a thorn in our flesh forever. And as a public figure, I knew he would convince other men as weak in character as himself that he was trustworthy, and he would prove himself to be just the opposite time and again. There would also be troubles coming from his relinquishing all ties to his son. I could see clearly that Will would, some time in the future, see it as a terrible rejection; which it was. But none of that mattered. Nothing they signed, or had ever signed, mattered. That was when I literally took matters into my own hands.

I was at the fireplace for quite some time before they noticed me dropping the papers into the flames.

William had me by the arm and growled, "Damn you, woman!" The bundle could not stand the violence and burst apart. I was heartened to see that as many of the notes and sealed sheets fluttered into the fire as fell to the floor. My attention was diverted when William slapped me.

He shook me hard and was only inches from my face. He spoke, but I couldn't understand what he said. I felt spittle on my cheeks.

Suddenly, he stopped shaking me, but did not release me.  He stood straight. His attention was on something behind him.

Frederick's forbidding face was just over William's shoulder. "I said, release her, Elliot." William's head jerked. Something pressed against his cheek. Whatever it was pressed hard on the flesh and made him look as though his face was swollen on one side.

William's countenance darkened and his brow hardened, but he did release my arm. "Surely you would not kill me in this house. Not in front of your wife." The whites of his eyes were bright against his flushed skin.

The smile that came across Frederick's face was frighteningly wicked. "We have already established that killing is something I am quite capable of. And as for not doing it in front of Anne, she can always turn away, can't you dearest?" to my shock, I felt no objection to my husband's the words or the act they described. In that moment I could not state I knew he was jesting.

William glanced to me and then behind him again. "Let me take my papers and I will leave." His voice was low but beginning to crack.

The tension of the scene was maddening. Frederick allowed time enough to pass that each of us began to breath in rhythm with the mantle clock. William's grasp on me loosened a little with each pass of the pendulum. I still wonder if Frederick was merely torturing William or truly deciding whether he would carry out his threat. Eventually, he stepped away. "Take your mess and go."

Frederick made a point to hold up his weapon for me to see. It was a fireplace poker, which he now leant against like a walking stick.

A great sooty gash marked William's red cheek. When he turned to Frederick and saw the poker, he was more livid that ever. He proceeded to abuse Frederick in the basest of terms, but thought better when Frederick stepped forward, raising the poker. William retreated to the floor to gather the papers.

"This will not be forgotten, Captain."

It would seem I was a prophet judging by this statement.

The papers were scattered in a wide arc and William was awkward snatching them up while clutching the others to his chest. I suppose he feared a change of mind on our part, and was determined to protect them now that they were somewhat in his possession.

We could have called a man to take him out, but Frederick desired to see him off with a demonstration of marital harmony. As was to be expected, William did not like it at all, and once he saw that Frederick had left the poker by the fireplace, made it clear that while he got what he came for, we were not rid of him. We did not stay to watch the carriage leave the property.

There were still some papers scattered about the library and I set about gathering them. "Well, damn his eyes!" Frederick stood behind his desk, glaring at me.

I approached with the rest of the sheets. "What is it? What has he done now?"

"The cowardly bugger stole my shark's tooth!" His tone was angry, but his expression was comical. "Most men are smart enough that when they take a token of battle, they take one of a victory. That idiot takes them from his defeats." He sat down and began to write. "Let him keep it to remind him of this amazing and magnificent night."

Frederick's description was what amazed me. "You think this a good night? William Elliot came into our home and threatened us. Even now, he has what he wants but tells us he will not forget what took place here."

He kept writing, but murmured along the loops and scratches. He finally lifted his head. "Yes, but don't forget my dear, the vile piece of … the vile creature delivered to us our son!" He went back to the letter.

I was shocked. It was of course true that William had delivered us a great gift, but Frederick's actions were completely incomprehensible. "So, you are writing him a thank you note?"

Frederick laughed and looked up. "No—but that would provoke him no end, wouldn't it? No, this is a note to Patrick I will send it express later. He needs to get a good copyist on those files. Elliot can not be allowed to have all of the originals." He signed his name with a flourish. With that chore finished, he took my arm and said, "Now, we have something to do upstairs."

It took only minutes to find Will and gather up Edward. In short order we were all together in the small sitting room where my dear mother used to writer her letters. Frederick, with Will's help, finished building a fire and the room was warming quickly.

Edward was sleeping in my arms and Will came to stand next to me as Frederick took a seat. I wondered that he was taking so much time. Will was growing restive and beginning to amuse himself by tugging on the fringes of the baby's blanket. I was about to ask him for what he waited when I saw him take a deep breath. We were about to begin.

"William, will you please come here?" His voice was low and a little stern.

Will had been smiling and lolling by my side, but Frederick's seriousness and tone changed all that immediately. He approached the Captain. His fingers flicked and flashed by his side as he waited.

Frederick held out his hand. "Closer, please." He looked Will over; straightened his collar and indicated he should stand straighter. Will's expression was growing a bit fearful. "For various reasons, we are not sure when we will see your father again, Will." He paused.

Will reacted with a little dip of the head, but I could detect no real display of grief or pain.

"It has been thought by all of us that you should become my son. And that you should take my name. Do you think you would like to be a Wentworth?" Frederick glanced quickly to me. He held his breath.

Will too glanced quickly to me and then back to Frederick. He shifted from one foot to the other. He took a deep breath. "Now may I call you 'Father'?"

Frederick said nothing, but pulled our boy into his arms. Through my tears I saw him wipe his eyes. I heard him say to Will: "I insist on it, son."

The embrace was ended and Will took the opportunity to lean on his father's shoulder, stoking it absently as they talked about the seriousness of fire building. It was the loveliest sight I could ever have imagined. And for a moment I could only wish Anne were present to see the good that had come out of the misery of William Elliot's treachery.

Frederick stood. "I think we should all make a trip to Crewkherne tomorrow. We shall put a notice in the paper of Will's change in name, and then have lunch at the Crown. What do you say?" He knew there were no objections.

As we left the room to go down to tea, to which Master William Wentworth was invited, I said to Frederick, "Let me write the note to William. I think I have many things to tell which will provoke him no end."

Frederick laughed and let me have my way.  

It is now 1836. Frederick and I are nicely settled in the Lodge. It had stood empty for many years after Amanda's death and it is just now as we wish it to be.

Will and his new wife are learning to manage the manor and all its responsibilities. He is a frequent visitor to ask for his father's advice. Edward is just finishing his education and about to begin a career as a lawyer. They irony that his son has followed in the career of Will's father is not lost on Frederick. But, he finally got his girl child. In fact, he got three when all was said and done. The twins are married to bright and amiable young men, the wedding of our youngest girl will take place in the gardens of Kellynch Hall in the summer. In the meantime, the bride makes it known she think we were foolish to move ourselves, and her, to such small accommodations as the Lodge.

 We are happy here …

I could hear him approach, but it still surprised me when he kissed the back of my neck.

"You're nearly done with that one. Shall you start another?" Frederick took a seat nearby.

I closed the diary I in which I was writing. "I think I must." My eyes were tired. I would rest them then resume my entry.

He leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and took my hand. "You have sworn there has never been any hint of it happening again." He took the pen and replaced it in the tray.

I leant forward to match him. "I know." I took his hand. "But I feel I must. For her if it ever does happen, she will know about herself. And her children. And you." I kissed him gently on the cheek.

For the first few years we had watched and worried I would leave this place and time somehow. It was during those years I had begun to keep a journal. For the past few years, we had thought little about the phenomenon that brought me to Frederick. He wonders why I continue.

Frederick can be greedy sometimes and the peck on the cheek was not enough. He took the liberty of kissing me on the mouth. He drew back, smiling. "You are too good to her." He kissed my hand. "I told you a long time ago this is all a dream of mine come true." His rubbing the top of my hand tickled.

"That is your opinion, certainly. But it is still as it ever was: when I dream, I have you." I stood and gently tugged on his hand that he would follow me. "And when I wake, I have you. And that cannot be a bad thing. Now let us go to our garden and walk."

The End