The Secret of Pembrooke Park(148)
“Thank you, Mr. Scott. But I believe my sister hopes to gather Miss Foster’s ideas first, before proceeding and hiring a builder. We also plan to implement her scheme for the parsonage.”
William noticed her quick look of surprise and pleasure.
“Ah. Well. Of course.” Scott conceded, “Abby has always had an excellent eye.”
“Not always,” Abigail allowed. “But I think I recognize excellence now when I see it.” She looked at William with shining eyes.
Mr. Scott looked from one to the other. “Abby, Louisa insists we have dancing after dinner. Do say you’ll dance with me. For old times’ sake.”
She smiled at her old friend, but then she lifted her gaze to William, her dark eyes meeting, melding with his.
“Actually, I fear I may be engaged,” she said. “Is that not right, Mr. Chapman?”
William felt his chest expand with hope and pleasure. “You are engaged for the entire evening,” he said earnestly. “And for every evening after that, if I have my way.”
At his words, Abigail’s whole body thrummed in anticipation. She tucked her hand under his arm. “Then indeed you shall.”
Without removing his gaze from hers, William Chapman said, “If you will excuse us, Mr. Scott?”
Not waiting to hear Gilbert’s reply, William led her out of the drawing room and into the quiet vestibule, her heart beating hard with each step. She fleetingly recalled coming upon Louisa and Gilbert in this very vestibule last year. And now it was her turn to stand there in a private tête-à-tête.
William turned and solemnly faced her. “Miss Foster. Abigail. I know I said I was in no position to marry. That it would be wrong to ask you to wait until my situation improved—”
“I’ve thought about that,” Abigail interrupted. “But I don’t care about the living. I care about you.”
He stepped nearer. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.” His blue eyes shone. “But then I gather you haven’t heard . . .”
“Heard what?”
“Mr. Morris has passed on.”
She felt her smile falter. “I am sorry to hear it. And his nephew?”
“Leah—Eleanor—has granted the living to me.”
“Ohhh . . .” Abigail breathed, thoughts whirling. Perhaps she should have foreseen that possibility, but she had not.
He took her hand in his. “Will you marry me, dearest loveliest Abigail?”
The question sent a thrill of pleasure through Abigail, and she gazed at him in wonder. “Of course I shall. Nothing would make me happier. For I love you with all my heart.”
Flushed with happiness, she wished she had some token of her love to give him. A miniature, a lover’s eye, a lock of hair set in a ring. She had none of these things, so she took his face in her hands and drew his head down, pressing her mouth to his in a passionate kiss.
And judging from his reaction, the gift was very much appreciated.
A short while later, they caught their breaths and rejoined the others for dinner. Abigail barely tasted her food, but she enjoyed the company, and the warm congratulations that flowed around them. That evening, she danced every dance and, if her future husband could be believed, outshone every woman there.
She had said yes to William Chapman even before she learned he had a valuable living. She had said yes to a life of working alongside the man she loved. A life different than the one she’d once imagined—but oh so right. Together they would serve the parish, and God, and each other. Together they would build a practical, happy life.
Abigail realized anew she had never needed a treasure to make herself worthy. How thankful she was to be treasured by God, and the man who loved her.
Epilogue
William and I stood, hand in hand, watching as the foundation was laid for a large addition to the parsonage. The rebuilding has also begun on Pembrooke Park. True to her word, Leah asked for my opinion on what should be done to the manor house during the refurbishment. She had thought about pulling the place down and being done with it. Washing her hands forever of her childhood home. But she decided in the end that to truly make peace with her past, she had to first embrace it, embrace her role as heiress of Pembrooke Park and lady of the manor. I think she will do credit to the role and be a wonderful patroness of the village and church.
She and Andrew talked at length about what was best to do. He is to have Hunts Hall one day, after all, and the two could reside there instead. But as his parents are sure to remain there as long as they live, Andrew and Leah have decided they will rebuild Pembrooke Park and live in it together as husband and wife for the time being.
Even though Mrs. Morgan seems to approve of “dear Eleanor” now that her true origins are known, Leah prefers to live nearer her family. She says the Chapmans will always be the family of her heart—Mac, Kate, Kitty, and Jacob. And William of course. Her family feeling and affection now extend to me as well, I’m pleased to say. And I treasure our friendship. It is such a joy to see her well and truly happy. The fears of the past gone. The secrets and hiding with it.
She is free to be who she really is and loved for who she really is. And really, isn’t that what we all want?
Gilbert remains a dear friend, though relations between us are not what they once were. How could they be, when the piece of my heart I’d long ago given him is now fully, soundly in William’s possession? Even so, we are cordial, and I wish him every success in his future. He has yet to marry. For his sake, I wish he would.