“In the journal you have been given, you will find page after page of my memories, aspects of my character, things I am fond of, things I do not care for, adventures I have had. You will find reminiscences from when I was a child and my siblings and your mother’s were still living. You will also find recountings of adventures I have had in the years since I was married and as each of you boys was born. I have also included some of my favorite memories of time spent with you. I will continue writing in it even after I finish this letter. I mean to fill it with everything I can so that I will not be a stranger to you.
“But more important than that, I want to make certain you know that I love you. That I love you with all of my heart.
“I worry that you will doubt that. If you ever do, if you ever wonder, read these words until you are certain.
“I love you, Charlie.
“I love you.
“This family loves you and loves each other. Embrace them. Let them embrace you. You need never be lonely, my Charlie.
“Be good to your mother. Look after her happiness.
“Be happy yourself.
“All my love,
“Father”
Charlie set his letter atop the very book his father had referenced. Artemis offered to him the handkerchief her Papa, his father, had given her fifteen years earlier. He wiped at the tears trickling down his cheeks. He was sad, yes, but he also appeared touched and reassured.
“We should read the journal together,” she said. “A little at a time. I would like to know him better as well.”
“We could take turns,” he suggested.
She nodded.
He took up the book. The spine creaked a little when he opened it, testament to how long it had waited to be read.
“‘I grew up at Lampton Park,’” Charlie read aloud, “‘and my best friend, Stanley, grew up at Farland Meadows. We often met at the Trent to plan what we felt were grand adventures...’”
Artemis sat in Charlie’s arms, listening as he read stories of the remarkable gentleman who had loved them both. Life had offered so many disappointments, so many heartaches, yet she could not deny it had brought her miracles as well.
Just as her Papa had hoped, someone had come into her life very soon after he had been taken from her, someone he had helped to raise. Adam had married Persephone, and from that moment forward, she had been granted a fierce advocate, though she’d not always appreciated him. Adam’s connection to Papa and Mater had brought Artemis to the house party at which she’d first met Charlie. And though they had joked about it, she was unwilling to discount the possibility of fate intervening to force them together when their own stubbornness and pride had kept them apart.
I would love nothing more than to have my Princess be part of my family.
And now she was. After a lifetime of searching for what felt out of reach, she finally was.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“‘I returned to that shopin Paris again and again.’” Artemis sat leaning against Charlie as she read from Father’s journal, their traveling carriage winding its way in the direction of Brier Hill. He was particularly enjoying the arrangement. “‘I could not dismiss the growing conviction that the pendant would be perfect for Julia despite it seeming too mature a gift for a little girl. She, of course, was not a little girl any longer, but my mind had not yet accepted that fact.’”
Charlie slipped an arm around Artemis’s waist and closed the small gap between them. Her perfume, light and subtle, touched the air around him, teasing his senses.
“‘Kes grew rather annoyed with me, I fear,’” Artemis continued her reading. “‘His is a very logical mind and a focused disposition. My indecisiveness proved almost unendurable for my friend.’”
A bit of her neck was bare above the collar of her carriage dress. Charlie brushed a whisper of a kiss there.
“Charlie,” she said with a scolding laugh.
“Mmm-hmm?” He adjusted his position to allow a brief kiss on her jaw nearest her ear.
“You aren’t listening to your father.” She held up the journal she’d been reading.
Charlie took the teal ribbon they’d been using as a bookmark and set it in the book. “I think my father”—he closed the book—“would understand.” He set the journal on the seat opposite them, then turned back and pulled her into a proper embrace.
She assumed a theatrical expression of shock. “Why, Mr. Jonquil, how very impetuous you are being. I fear I shall faint dead away.”
