Page 19 of The Governess’s Absolutely Impossible Wish (The Notorious Briarwoods #8)
January
Two years later
T he children loved the island.
Christmas had been a resounding success at the castle. As always, there had been holly, ivy, greenery, a Yule log, presents, and games. Yes, the Duke of Westleigh’s castle had been full of joy, but as always, January had come, and once the twelfth day of Christmas had passed and all the wonderful celebrations of the season were put away, as they always had to be, the family had started their new tradition.
They had gotten in coaches, traveled across the dreary landscape, gotten on board a yacht, and come to the Isle of Wight.
The children adored it beyond all measure because, in their marvelous imaginations, they were pirate kings. They were shipwrecked sailors. They were mermaids. Yes, the very winter escape Zephyr had been so certain he could never have was now a refuge.
It was not exactly warm on the Isle of Wight, but it was much better than most of England, and it was beautiful too.
The beaches stretched on for miles. The sea was a shimmering jewel, and the house that they had built was intimate. It was not like the castle that one could rattle around in. Nor was it cold. The house had been built in such a way that light spilled in. It was decorated in the French fashion, and every room was like a jewel box with beautiful colors, bright molding, and mirrors everywhere. So, when one went from room to room, hall to hall, it felt as if the light from outside had been replicated and magnified.
Zephyr was surrounded by light, and he was surrounded by love.
His boots squelched in the sand as his wife walked beside him holding his hand. She had her other hand on her swelling middle. They were going to have a child in but a few weeks’ time, a February baby, and it would make the month of February the most beautiful of all. It would transform one of the coldest months into a celebration of life.
He smiled to himself. Just two years ago, he never could have imagined his life like this in the winter. He’d been so certain that he had to spend January and February at the castle. At the very best, he would have gone to London, chipping away at his own misery with distraction, enduring. But life was not about enduring. Life was about reveling and realizing when one needed change and embracing it. That’s what he had done.
Leander supported him. There were times when Leander could not come to the island as he had to be at the House of Lords, but the entire family besides him was here.
And Leander spent as much time as he could in the winter with them.
They all loved it. Loved supporting Zephyr through his hard months, just as they loved helping Leander through his rough periods.
There were many other families on the island too.
One was particularly interesting. They were delightfully odd and Jean-Luc seemed to feel an affinity for them. Who knew what would happen next? Because one of the young ladies of that family did love to go exploring the ancient rocks.
Yes, the island was a great mystery and a source of fun for all, even for Jean-Luc, whose heart had been shuttered for so long. But it seemed to be opening for a pert English miss.
Who’d have thought it?
Now Zephyr knew that anything was possible. There was nothing impossible and all because he had learned it from his wife, from his family.
His wife had taken him up on his offer of her dreams being made real. Astonishingly, Giselle’s father had left her a great deal of money, allowing her to have her own resources to combine with the power of the Briarwood family in the building of her schools.
The money would never make up for all the pain, but it would go to a very good cause, and in his way, Giselle’s father, free of his own fears, was finally helping his daughter.
They were planning to go to Manchester and then to York as soon as she could travel after the baby, and then they would go to Edinburgh. They had set up three music academies where girls came, were given a safe place to stay, and were learning to play beautifully without fear. His wife’s great passion was unfolding, and that purpose had also helped lift him out of the mire in the winter months because while they were here where the weather was significantly better, they filled their days with planning, with organization, with the needs of the girls who needed them. And that gave him so much to live for that he no longer stood at windows, gazing out at the sky, wondering how he would make it through.
Oh, he still stood at windows, but now he stood at windows contemplating the futures of young girls who would awe the world with their genius.
“Whatever are you thinking?” his wife said.
“How lucky I am,” he replied. “How lucky I have always been, and how lucky I always will be.”
She laughed. “That is a great deal of luck.”
“You don’t agree?”
She tsked. “How could I not? Any Briarwood would know better than to question the luck of this family. But…” she said softly.
“Yes?” he prompted.
“It is not a luck you were all born with,” she said, turning to him, her belly full and brushing his side.
“What?” he blurted, stunned, even as he gently touched the evidence of their growing child.
“Briarwoods are not born lucky, my darling husband. Briarwoods choose luck. They look out into the world with all its difficulties and they show each other, no matter how hard it is, to not give up, to keep going, and to look for the love in the world.”
He gazed down at her lovingly. “I looked and I found it. Where it was always waiting. With you.”
The End