Page 27 of The Spinster’s Secret Stake (Ladies of Opportunity #2)

Langemere Lodge

Greenwich, England

Four years later—late afternoon

The sun dipped low behind Langmere Lodge’s sprawling meadows, bathing the estate in golden light. Birdsong drifted through the open window, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze.

The faint gurgle of the stone fountain mingled with the cheerful chatter of sparrows splashing in the cool water, their sounds drifting in from the garden along with the delicate scent of lilacs and spring blooms.

Drawing a deep breath, Shelby savored the peace wrapping around the house like a comfortable, well-worn quilt. Life felt different now—calmer, more settled, filled with laughter and purpose.

Thanks to a series of wise investments—particularly in shipping and textiles—his wealth had grown considerably over the past four years, allowing him the freedom to focus on his growing family and the simple pleasures that came with that life.

Roxina took as much pride in their success as he did, never hesitating to offer her opinions on potential ventures. More often than not, her instincts proved uncannily accurate.

The refurbished house showcased Roxina’s impeccable taste and a keen eye for elegance without excess. She favored soft yellow and warm cream accented with sage green, Regency blue, and muted rose. The colors brightened the rooms without overwhelming them, creating an inviting, cheerful atmosphere that suited her spirited nature and made visitors feel instantly at ease.

Floral damask pillows adorned the drawing room settees, while fresh flower arrangements dotted the side tables, bringing a touch of the garden indoors. Houseplants thrived in sunny corners and atop sideboards, their glossy leaves adding a vibrant, living element to the carefully curated spaces. Roxina chose colors that complemented the natural light and fabrics that balanced comfort and refinement, ensuring every room reflected her thoughtful touch.

Shelby often marveled at how she had transformed Langmere Lodge into a welcoming home that often entertained visitors.

The drawing room stretched wide and inviting, its polished oak floors gleaming in the late afternoon light. Cream and sage damask curtains framed the tall windows, gently billowing as a warm breeze slipped through the open panes. A plush sage-green leather armchair sat angled near the unlit hearth, paired with a small walnut table where a half-finished ledger rested, evidence of Shelby’s earlier work.

The fireplace, crafted from veined gray marble with a carved floral motif along the mantel, stood cold and empty, its grate swept clean and polished. The scent of lemon oil lingered from the freshly polished wood, mingling with the earthy fragrance drifting in from the garden.

Beyond the windows, manicured lawns rolled toward the edge of the estate, where wildflowers swayed in the soft wind. The shimmering surface of the pond glinted under the bright afternoon sun while ancient oaks stood sentinel along its edges, their leaves whispering secrets to the breeze.

Shelby stood at the open window, breathing in the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming wildflowers.

Dash lay stretched out on the patterned Aubusson carpet, ears perked and ever watchful as little Andrew stacked his carved wooden blocks into precarious towers.

Andrew sat cross-legged on the floral-patterned Aubusson carpet, his chubby legs tucked beneath him as he concentrated on balancing one block atop another. He wore a striped skeleton suit of soft blue and white, the short jacket fastening neatly over his ruffled white shirt. The high, rounded collar framed his cherubic face, and the fitted trousers stopped just above his ankles, revealing sturdy little boots that had already seen a fair share of scuffs from his many adventures.

At two years old, Andrew already possessed a determined streak that rivaled his father’s. He had inherited Roxina’s thick, dark hair, a soft wave curling over his forehead, and Shelby’s gray eyes—bright and full of curiosity. His tongue peeking out in concentration as he worked, he carefully balanced one block atop another.

Now and then, he glanced up at Shelby, as if seeking approval, and Shelby never failed to offer a wink, nod, or encouraging word.

A touch of gray marked Dash’s muzzle, though his alert eyes and wagging tail revealed his enduring spirit and loyalty. The faithful dog positioned himself protectively between Andrew and the entrance, as if guarding his young master from any potential threat. It was a habit Dash had picked up since Andrew’s birth, and it never failed to bring a fond smile to Shelby’s face.

Andrew gave a triumphant squeal as one of his wobbly towers righted itself before clattering to the floor.

Dash raised his head, gave an approving look, and then settled back down, satisfied that no danger lurked in the wooden architecture’s collapse.

Shelby chuckled.

“A promising engineer, that one,” he said aloud, mostly to himself. “If we’re not careful, he’ll have the entire house redesigned before his third birthday.”

Roxina’s laughter floated in from the hallway, and a moment later, she stepped into the room, her cheeks flushed from visiting the kitchen—and probably enjoying a warm biscuit or roll fresh from the oven.

Resting her hand on her growing belly, Roxina paused inside the doorway. The sun caught the sheen of her hair, turning it to rich, glossy mahogany, twisted into a chignon at her nape, with a few soft tendrils escaping to frame her face. A delicate gold chain nestled against her collarbones, bearing a small oval pendant of polished rose quartz, its pale pink hue glinting in the light.

She wore a day gown of soft ivory muslin, light and airy for the warm May afternoon, the fabric scattered with tiny sprigs of pink blossoms. The high waist gathered just beneath her bosom allowed room for her rounding stomach while the gently draped sleeves fluttered against her arms with each movement. A silk sash of muted rose wrapped around her waist, tied in a neat bow at her back.

Small pearl drop earrings peeked out from beneath her dark hair, their understated elegance complementing her gown without overwhelming her natural beauty. As she took in the sight of their son determinedly stacking his blocks, her eyes softened, and a contented smile curved her lips.

How could she possibly grow more lovely every day?

She smiled when she saw Andrew stacking his blocks again.

“Did he manage to build anything higher than his head this time?” Roxina wandered farther into the drawing room.

“No, but it was close. Dash gave him his most disapproving look.”

“Of course he did. I vow that dog thinks Andrew is his child.” Laughing, she crossed to Shelby and leaned against him.

He slid an arm around her waist, relishing the simple pleasure of holding her. They stood there a moment, content to watch their son and faithful dog.

“It has been four years already,” she murmured, resting her head on Shelby’s shoulder as he encircled her waist, resting his palms on her stomach. “Do you remember our wedding day?”

“How could I forget? You in that blue gown, looking as if you might float away from sheer joy.”

“More likely from sheer nerves,” she teased, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “At least we married for love. On occasion, I think of Mr. Atherstone and if he is content in his arranged marriage.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Shelby cocked an eyebrow. “I ran into Atherstone in London a few months ago. Lady Prudence jilted him at the altar—eloped with the gardener. Naturally, her family disowned her. Atherstone married a lovely young American heiress a year later. He is as pleased as a parson at a free luncheon.”

Shelby pressed a kiss to her temple. “These have been the four best years of my life.”

“Mine too, my darling. And to think, I once believed I would be content with weekly Ladies of Opportunity meetings. I was such a fool back then.” A soft smile lit Roxina’s face as she traced a finger over his knuckles. “The ladies still meet as often as we can. Who would have thought that daring little venture would lead to so many friendships—and marriages?”

Nodding, Shelby chuckled. “Georgine and Robyn Fitzlloyd seem quite content. And Claire and Quentin Honeybrook as well. Your friends have done well for themselves, marrying clever men who know how to handle spirited wives.”

“ Spirited ?” Roxina raised an eyebrow, giving him an arch look. “Husband dearest, I suspect you mean stubborn.”

“Much like their dear friend and founder of the society.” Shelby grinned, enjoying their banter.

She gave him a playful nudge. “It wasn’t stubbornness. It was determination. I’ve never regretted the venture.”

“Speaking of ventures,” Roxina said, glancing up at him, “what do you think about investing in that new canal project between Birmingham and London? It’s meant to transport coal and other goods from the Midlands to the city. I heard from Aubriella that the construction is well underway, and investors are already seeing profits from the sections that have opened. It seems promising.”

“A canal, hmm ?” Stroking his jaw thoughtfully, Shelby considered the suggestion. “That’s clever. Transporting coal and goods by water saves a fortune compared to hauling them by road. Once it’s fully operational, it’ll be indispensable. We’d be fools not to at least investigate.”

“I thought the same. Perhaps we should take a look at the plans before committing. I wouldn’t mind a journey North before I get much bigger.” She gave her tummy a rueful glance.

Smiling, Shelby smoothed his hands across her belly. “Planning to inspect the canal personally?”

“Of course.” Shelby appreciated Roxina’s keen mind for business. “I refuse to invest in something I haven’t seen with my own eyes.”

“We should visit Mrs. Beale soon too.” Roxina grinned. “I’m sure she’ll serve tea in the silver teapot we gifted her.”

“It was the least we could do.” He kissed the crown of her head. “We owe her much, and she dotes on Andrew.”

A comfortable hush settled over the room, broken by Andrew’s triumphant cheer when he finally managed a tower taller than his head. Beaming with pride, their son pointed. “Looky, Mama. Looky, Papa!”

“Well done, you.” Roxina clapped her hands.

“Excellent, son.”

“He has your spirit,” Shelby murmured into her ear. “Stubborn and determined. I’m convinced he’ll take over the estate before he’s ten.”

Shelby drew her close, content in the quiet, sunlit room.

Roxina suddenly turned around. “Oh, I nearly forgot, Shelby. Aubriella sent a note this morning. She and Jack plan on calling this Friday with their sons.”

“Those rascals?” Shelby raised his eyebrows. “Heaven help us with those three-year-old twins in the house—Dash and I may both turn gray before they leave.”

Roxina laughed, a musical tinkle that never failed to touch his soul. “They are energetic boys. Jack swears they’ve inherited every ounce of their mother’s determination. Aubriella claims they’re just like him—wild as colts.”

“We’ll have to put away anything breakable and watch them at every turn.” Eyeing their son, Shelby smirked. “Andrew will be delighted to have fellow partners in mischief.”

“He’ll follow them around like a devoted little shadow,” Roxina agreed before a slight frown marred her cheerful expression. “I hope he doesn’t mind the baby.”

Having experienced Mitchel’s jealousy at her birth, no doubt Roxina fretted that Andrew might feel displaced at the birth of the new babe.

“Andrew will adore the babe. There will only be two and a half years between them. I expect they’ll be inseparable,” Shelby assured her.

Thoughts of the past flitted through his mind, momentarily sucking the joy from the moment. Mitchel died a week after Shelby and Roxina married. At least he made his peace with her before the end.

He glanced down at his wife, marveling at how resilient she was, how she’d turned hardship into happiness. She had given him everything he never knew he needed—a family, a home, and a love that filled every empty space inside him. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe it was real.

Shelby couldn’t imagine his days without her wry smile or the way her laughter seemed to brighten the very air around them. Andrew’s mischievous grin and stubborn determination were a perfect reflection of his mother’s spirit, and soon another little one would join their family—another blessing he didn’t deserve but would fiercely protect.

His heart swelled as he looked from Roxina to their son and then to Dash, faithful and ever-vigilant, watching over the boy like a steadfast guardian.

How had he been so fortunate?

Roxina gave him a reason to believe in something beyond work and obligation. She had taught him to love without holding back and to embrace joy even when it seemed reckless.

He squeezed her hand gently, a lump forming in his throat. He would never take this—any of it—for granted. Not the wife who made him whole, the son who made him laugh and filled his heart to overflowing, or the precious new life growing beneath her heart.

He couldn’t have asked for more, and he thanked God several times a day for his many blessings.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” he whispered into Roxina’s hair.

She turned her face up to his, her smile serene and adoring. “Happy anniversary, my heart.”

As he kissed her, Andrew gave another triumphant squeal, and Dash barked once as if applauding the boy’s accomplishment.

Roxina laughed against Shelby’s lips, and he couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with thankfulness and joy.

Life had given him more than he deserved, and whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them with the extraordinary woman who had staked her heart on his love.

THE END

Ihope you enjoyed THE SPINSTER’S SECRET STAKE and following Shelby and Roxina’s romantic journey.