“I would give up Cambridge a hundred times over in favor of the life I am building with you.”
“You promise you won’t resent me?” she asked.
“Far from resenting you, Artie, I mean to cherish you.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Artemis glanced at the clockon the wall of Rose’s office for the tenth time in a quarter of an hour. They had been in London a fortnight, and their dress shop was nearly ready to begin accepting customers. Rose, they had decided, was far too gifted in matters of business, with far too keen an eye for fashion, to not be present at their establishment for consultations and for overseeing the efforts.
With Rose’s new position, one that suited her perfectly, Artemis needed to secure another lady’s maid, but that was not the matter weighing heaviest on her mind.
“Watching the clock won’t make time pass any faster,” Rose said, looking up from the papers on her desk.
“Charlie was so nervous when he left for his lecture. I am anxious to hear how his presentation was received.”
“You’ve married a very intelligent gentleman, one who is quite articulate when discussing mathematics. I haven’t the least doubt he proved a rousing success.”
How she wished ladies were permitted membership in the Royal Society so she could have attended and heard him speak.
Two of the Huntresses, Daria and Gillian, arrived in the office a moment later. The Huntresses hadn’t seen one another in months, and the Season was all but over.
“We have come on a rescue mission,” Daria said.
“Rescue?” Artemis eyed them both.
Daria nodded. “We are rescuing Rose from your no-doubt ceaseless fretting.”
“Please do,” Rose said from her desk. Those who didn’t know her would not recognize the teasing in her voice. Artemis had lived too long with Adam to not know dry and painfully subtle humor when she heard it.
“Let us go to Falstone House now,” Daria said. “Even if your Charlie is not back yet, he will be soon enough.”
“MyCharlie?” She wasn’t objecting. On the contrary, she rather liked hearing him referred to that way.
“It appears, this time, Artemis did not kill Actaeon after all,” Gillian said, managing to keep her expression free of any hint of an “I told you so.”
Artemis tipped her chin. “You have confused your myths. This time, Artemis did not killOrionafter all.”
Daria’s eyes darted from Gillian to Artemis and back again, barely holding back a grin.
“I will see you in the morning,” Artemis said to Rose.
She was offered a farewell in return. Their business venture was already proving a grand and glorious undertaking. The years to come in London would be nothing short of exciting. And she would have Charlie with her through it all.HerCharlie.
The O’Doyle sisters had only just arrived at Falstone House when Artemis, Gillian, and Daria alighted from their hackney. They all walked into the house together.
“Are you simply falling to bits without Charlie at your side?” Nia asked, not bothering to pretend she wasn’t teasing her friend. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a little besotted.”
“If I didn’t know better,” Artemis tossed back imperiously, “I would think you don’t want to be invited to my house party this autumn.”
That turned the topic nicely. Artemis and Charlie had decided that a gathering of their friends later in the year would be vastly enjoyable. With income from the dress shop and, if all had gone well that day, from Charlie’s lectures and published papers, the monetary burden was not so worrisome as before.
The Huntresses were at the top of their list of wished-for friends, including Lisette, who had been in France for months. Charlie wished to have a few friends from Cambridge stay with them as well—Newton and his wife, Sorrel’s brother Fennel, the oddly-named Duke, and Toss, who was at Falstone House even then.
Brier Hill would never again be a lonely and empty place.
Falstone House was full to bursting, with both the Jonquil and Lancaster families in attendance, as well as various family friends. Sorrel was there, utilizing her wheeled chair, which she used more often than not now. And she wore a dress Artemis and Rose had designed especially for her, one that accommodated her hip bracing, accentuated her figure, and hung narrow enough in the skirts to not get caught in the wheels of her chair. Artemis was particularly proud of the work they’d done on that design.
Hestia sat on Mater’s lap, held and adored. Adam’s children—all the Lancasters’ children, in fact—had gained a grandmother in her. And Artemis had gained a mother, just as Charlie had promised.
