A Seductive Lady Rescued From Flames- Extended Epilogue

 Five Years Later

Diana sat in the dark green chair in the parlor, her stitching off to the side. She’d spent a great deal of the morning in the woods with her children, and her legs ached from the jumping, running, and all-out playing—events that had forced her to change into something more presentable, due to muddy knees and a little scrape from a twig across her cheek. 

Now, the children were upstairs—William and Margery, named after Ernest’s father and Diana’s lost sister. She could hear their playful giggles and grinned to herself, knowing that they would be difficult to calm after such a raucous morning. 

Ernest remained in his study with a businessman he’d recently met at a party at the home of the Marquees. The businessman had some sort of problem, something he wished to pick Ernest’s brain over. Ernest had ached to be in the woods with Diana and his children—Diana felt sure of this. Yet it warmed her heart, knowing that Ernest’s people regarded him with such trust and hope that they wanted nothing more than his advice. 

The rapid footfalls out in the foyer made Diana’s ears perk up. Lately, Rose had been a frantic soul—rushing from one place of the mansion to the next, always ducking out to meet friends. She was now 20 years old, a stunning woman with several suitors. Diana’s eyes flickered left, to find Aunt Renata nearly asleep in her ordinary chair by the window. Rose’s wild steps caused Aunt Renata’s eyes to pop open. She grunted a bit, then whispered, “I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl.”

As if on cue, Rose ambled into the parlor. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked at Diana like she was a drowning woman in a massive lake, looking for anything to hold onto. 

“Darling! Are you all right?” Diana asked. She burst up from her chair and walked toward her, wrapping her sister-in-law in a firm hug. 

Rose quivered, allowing her shoulders to fall. “I’m terribly sorry. I must look a-fright.”

Over Rose’s head, Diana’s eyes found Aunt Renata’s. Slowly, she helped Rose to the chair between hers and Aunt Renata’s, calling for the maid to pour Rose a cup of tea. Rose let out a staggered cry, staring down at her knees. 

“It’s happened,” Rose whispered. Her voice was raspy. 

Diana’s heart thudded. “What do you mean?”

Rose swallowed. “You know that I’ve had several suitors this summer, Diana. I’ve been frank about it.”

Diana forced herself not to smile. Rose’s playfulness with the men in society was quite an interesting thing to watch. With her beauty and intellect, she could run circles around them. 

“Of course,” Diana affirmed. “Yet you mentioned that none of them were truly your match.”

“Yes. I thought so,” Rose continued. “But that’s all before I met… this young clergyman. Isaac Wilmington.”

An image floated in the back of Diana’s mind. Isaac Wilmington had been a recent fixture at one of their balls, his name dancing on the tongues of some of the most prestigious young women in society. He was dashing, yet stoic, a serious man of the cloth. If she’d ever been asked to pair Rose with anyone, she wouldn’t have picked such a man. 

After all: Rose was outspoken and fiery and wild. She wasn’t accustomed to paying attention to rules. And the sort of rules you were meant to follow as a man of the cloth were certainly more concrete than others. 

“Isaac Wilmington,” Diana echoed. “I encountered him briefly at the recent ball, yes. You’re saying that… you’ve taken a liking to him?”

Rose guffawed. “It’s not just a LIKING, Diana. I’m all-out smitten with him. I can’t get him out of my head. I go to bed dreaming of him. I come-to in the middle of the night with his name on my tongue.”

“It sounds like you’re falling in love,” Aunt Renata chirped. 

Rose cast Aunt Renata a dark look, as though she’d spoken out of turn. “It’s only that… it seems to me, we come from very different schools of thought.”

Diana nodded, although she didn’t wish to add to it. This had been precisely her thought, as well. 

“I’ve always been a bit different. I know this about myself, and I like it, even,” Rose said. She looked flustered. “But Isaac has made me question everything. Am I really so sold on my own personality? Am I really so sold on how I’ve constructed my life thus far?”

“And he’s expressed an interest in you?” Diana asked.

“Oh, yes. Our attraction is absolutely wild,” Rose said. Her eyelashes fluttered. “I’ve seen him frequently with friends. Always supervised, of course. But we’ve had little whispered conversations, you know. Things that affirm that my feelings are matched. And also that he has similar… qualms with my personality. He’s falling in love with me. I dare say he already is. But he understands that we come from very different worlds.”

Diana remembered these whispered conversations with Ernest, when they’d been attempting to hide their brewing love from her family and from Grace. She swam in a moment of nostalgia before asking, “What is your heart telling you?”

Rose smacked her palms across her thighs. “My question is—how can I marry a man knowing that I will have to tone down my personality and not be true to myself?”

Diana nodded, stitching her eyebrows together. 

“And another. Should I choose someone I like a bit less, in order to retain my own personality?” Rose continued. “When I think of it, I feel outright exhausted. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Just then, they heard the ringing voice of the governess, Penelope, wandering down the staircase with the children. They appeared in the doorway: the governess Zelda holding the hand of four-year-old William, with two-year-old Margery placed on her hip. Diana felt overwhelmed with love for them. She stood and strode toward them, but not before William lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Diana’s legs. She giggled, sweeping her fingers through William’s black curls. He looked remarkably like his father—while Margery had bits of them both. 

“Thank you for bringing them,” Diana said to Penelope. 

“They wouldn’t stop demanding it,” Penelope said, her voice heavy. “I wanted to give you a bit of a break after all the chaos of the morning.”

“No. I don’t really need it,” Diana affirmed.

“There they are! My sweet babies,” Rose said. Her tone was entirely different, now that the children had arrived. William scampered toward her and clambered up on her lap. 

Penelope turned Margery over to Diana, who walked back to the green chair. 

“She looks exactly like you did when you were a baby, Diana,” Aunt Renata said, her eyes glowing. 

“No. She looks a bit more like Ernest, I think,” Diana said. She drew her fingers over the softness of Margery’s cheek. “Perhaps she’ll grow to look more and more like me with time.” 

“Shall we read a story?” Rose asked William, bouncing him lightly on her knees. 

William nodded ferociously. “Please, Auntie!”

Throughout the hour before lunch, the women were completely enraptured with the children, reading them stories, teasing them, making up little games. When Ernest found them, moments before lunch was served, he bounded into the parlor and scooped William up, twirling in a circle. William shrieked with glee. 

These sorts of glossy, bright, joyful images had been the backbone of Diana’s life since the children had been born. She always pinched herself, reminding herself just how grateful she needed to remain. She couldn’t take a single moment for granted. 

**

That night, she and Ernest put the babies to bed. Rose bid adieu and returned to her bedroom, while Aunt Renata chose to stay up a bit longer with her stitching. 

When the children’s eyes were safely closed, their eyelids glossy and their eyes darting about behind them, chasing dreams, Diana slipped her hand into Ernest’s and wandered down the hall, toward the bedroom they’d shared since their marriage. At the door, Ernest’s hand grew anxious, wrapping itself around Diana’s buttocks. She grinned at him playfully. 

“Not yet. I need to speak with you about something first,” she said, arching her brow.

“Oh! She sounds serious,” Ernest said. 

Diana and Ernest undressed slowly. They’d both grown incredibly accustomed to the others’ bodies, yet still found one another delicious, exciting. With her dressing gown over her shoulders, flickering near her ankles, Diana surged toward her husband, her fingers sweeping over his muscular chest. 

“How is it you’re even more handsome than when I married you?” she marveled. 

Ernest dotted a kiss on her forehead. He stepped back and drew the blankets to the side, gesturing for Diana to duck within. She did, bouncing on the mattress, watching as Ernest joined her. He huddled close to her, his lips only a few inches from hers.

“So what is it. What would you like to speak with me about?” 

Diana pressed her lips together, wondering how to broach the subject. “It’s Rose,” she finally mustered. “It seems that she’s fallen in love.”

Ernest’s face broke out in wonder. “I wasn’t sure that would ever happen. She seemed content to toy with them forever.”

Diana giggled. “I know. But it seems this one has made her rethink everything. He’s a clergyman…”

“A clergyman!” Ernest said. His face fell slightly. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I know. And she knows it, too,” Diana began. 

“It’s just that—their personalities. I can’t imagine Rose sitting still for more than three minutes, let alone following along with the rules of a man of the cloth.”

“This is what she’s expressed to me,” Diana said, nodding. 

“She shouldn’t do it,” Ernest affirmed. “It would be wrong. Cutting herself down like that.”

Diana pondered this. She felt the weight of the situation like a stone on her chest. “But what if her heart is telling her, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she should be in love with the clergyman?”

“Then her heart is wrong,” Ernest said. “Sometimes there are bigger factors at play. Plus, she’s only a young girl. Twenty years old! She has plenty of time to find a better suitor. She can align her love with someone who won’t snip away at her personality.”

Diana lifted her head a bit, peering at Ernest curiously. “We all make sacrifices for people we love, Ernest.” 

Ernest shook his head vehemently. “That’s not true. I made no sacrifices to be with you. I loved you from the moment I saw you, and—“

Diana clucked her tongue. “I believe you’re missing out on some elements of the story, my darling.”

“Okay, the Grace thing—“

“No, no,” Diana said. “You had to sacrifice your father’s memory in order to marry me. You had to acknowledge that your father wasn’t as correct as you’d always perceived him to be. This almost destroyed you. Don’t you remember?”

Ernest shrugged a bit, although his eyes glowed with the memory. “Perhaps. Perhaps I did. But it was all worth it. Our lives together are perfect.”

“Yes. But even I had to sacrifice something to be here…” Diana began. At this, her eyes grew cloudy with her own batch of memories. She remembered that afternoon with her father, Aunt Renata, Ernest and Rose—when her father had forbade her to climb the tree in the back of the estate. 

Since then, her father had passed away. His weakness had grown steadily over the years, until they’d buried him just the year before—only a year after her daughter, named after Margery, had been born. 

“My father wanted nothing more than for me to be safe,” Diana murmured. “He knew that I was apt to make mistakes. That the world can be a dangerous place. But I had to fight his opinion in order to find you, to find danger, to find life again…”

Ernest drew his hand across Diana’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Every time memory of her father’s death came over her, her eyes glittered with tears. It had been a wretched thing for him to pass, right when she felt that their family was complete. It was as though this “completeness” was something that was always fleeting. One had only to look at it too hard for it to race away. 

Ernest clucked his tongue. “Perhaps you’re right, little bird. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. For aren’t you always right?”

Diana snuggled tighter into him. Her lips traced over his. The kiss started tender, soft, and slowly grew and grew. Her heart thudded. Always, it seemed their nights turned this way—turning from flirtatious and emotional to something physical, wild, beautiful. 

She couldn’t imagine a world in which she wasn’t fully attracted to him, in which her breasts didn’t ache for his touch, in which the juncture between her legs didn’t grow wet with desire for him. 

“I love you,” she murmured, stripping his undershirt over his head. She burrowed tighter against him, allowing him to stretch out over her. He yanked his underthings from his legs, allowing his thick member to dangle down over her. His eyes glinted with want. 

“I love you, too,” he returned, before plunging into the darkness between her legs. 

***

The following morning, Diana attended to the governess and her children, ensuring that they would be all right for a few hours alone. She then tapped toward Rose’s bedroom to find her seated at the edge of her bed, staring out the window. Her eyes were glossy, as though they couldn’t latch onto anything or see anything for what it truly was. 

These lost feelings weren’t so deep in the past for Diana. 

“Hello there,” Diana said, in a half-whisper from the door. 

Slowly, Rose turned her head. She blinked at Diana meekly, as though she was lost in a daydream she couldn’t fully tear herself from. 

“I was thinking we could go for a walk,” Diana offered. “Just to get some fresh air before it gets too warm later.”

“I’m not sure,” Rose murmured. “I hadn’t thought of it.”

“Come on,” Diana said. She heard the “order” in her words and half-regretted it. This was her mothering, perhaps. 

But in spite of it, Rose stood from the bed and marched to the door. Her lips were set in a fine line. It was clear that she would walk—but she wasn’t sure if she would cooperate in whatever it was Diana wanted to speak about. 

Once outside, though, the angst within Rose’s face seemed to dissipate. She swept her arm through Diana’s, much in the same manner she had as a much younger girl. “I remember those first few walks so well,” she said. “When I wasn’t sure I would have you in my life.”

Diana chuckled. “It all seems like a long time ago.”

“And silly, really. After all. You and Ernest were written in the stars.”

The girls wandered past the gardens, toward the moor. Deep in the distance, several riders rode horseback, clopping through the grass. Diana had a surge of jealousy. She yearned to move quickly, to ride with her hair loose. She hadn’t allowed herself such adventure in quite some time, as she’d felt she needed to keep herself at least a bit safe, for her children’s sake. 

“I’ve been thinking a great deal about your situation with the clergyman,” Diana finally said. She swept her foot through the long grass, feeling it rush across her ankle.

“Hmmm,” Rose offered. “Of course, it’s all I’ve thought of. Endlessly. I haven’t arrived at any sort of conclusion.” 

“I just thought—if the clergyman is truly the proper person for you—the man you believe him to be—then wouldn’t he never ask you to change? Wouldn’t he see you for all you are and want you to retain that beautiful light?” 

Rose considered this. She poked her tongue out the side of her cheek, making it bulge. “I just don’t know if is church will accept me,” Rose said, letting out a heavy sigh. “The rules that he must uphold are in relation to God himself. I’m such a small being in comparison. I’m sure he hardly thinks of me at all.”

“This isn’t the same thing you said yesterday,” Diana insisted. “You said that the attraction was wild. That it couldn’t be avoided. That you…”

“Yes, yes,” Rose said, sounding impatient. “I just don’t know if I should even go to the trouble of—of asking. Of telling him this belief.”

Diana stopped walking. She gave Rose a puzzled expression. “Darling, if this is the truest form of love—the love that you expressed to me just yesterday, then it will not find a boundary in anything, not even the church. If you’re the pure self that you always are, then you will be loved wherever you go.”

Rose’s eyes turned to the ground. It seemed that the immense amount of love she felt for Isaac had wrapped itself around her tongue. Ordinarily, she was rash with her opinions, wild with her words. But now, she seemed to stumble continually. 

Diana gripped her hand. “What you must understand is this. If you find trouble in this life, the love of a good man will sustain you through it. The love of a good man will be your power, your light in the storm. I know this, because your brother has been that for me. Every single day, since I met him.”

Slowly, Rose’s face brightened. It seemed she’d truly heard Diana’s words. Suddenly, she flung herself forward, hugging Diana tightly. Surprised, Diana’s eyes bulged. But she held onto her sister in law as long as Rose wanted, feeling as she quaked with fear and longing. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” Rose whispered. 

“I know it’s terrifying to want anyone,” Diana said. She drew back, making heavy eye contact with Rose. “But you have to be brave to get the things you need in this life. Imagine your life with him—and then imagine it without him. Which one seems darker? Which one seems true?”

Rose hadn’t an answer. It seemed too obvious, perhaps, to say it aloud. 

The women wandered together toward the edge of the forest. Instead of dipping in, they looped back toward the house. Rose announced that she would meet with friends for a bit of shopping that afternoon, that she wanted to translate what Diana had said back to them and get their opinion. 

“It’s not that I think I need another opinion,” Rose said, standing at the first step of the staircase. “It’s only that I think everyone should hear it. It’s a fire in my belly.” 

***

Several days later, Diana stood in the garden, watching as Penelope played with Margery and William. Diana had been inside, speaking at-length with Ernest about his recent business meeting. Ernest respected her business mind and often picked her brain, surprised at her ability to see several steps ahead. That said, she didn’t particularly enjoy those conversations, and was grateful to return outdoors—to reconnect with her children. 

But just as she prepared to leap into their game, she heard rapid steps from outside the garden. She ducked around to find Rose, breathless, her hair in wild strings behind her. She griped the fence of the garden, blinking at her. 

“Diana! Diana. It’s happening.”

Diana pressed toward her, shaking her head. “What are you talking about?” She couldn’t deduce if what Rose was speaking about was good news or bad.

“Isaac. He’s here. He’s at the estate.”

Slowly, a smile crept across Diana’s face. “He’s here.” 

Rose nodded a bit too quickly, still mussing her hair. “I can’t imagine why, except for one reason and one reason alone. He’s here to obtain permission to propose to me. To me! Can you imagine…”

Tears swept down Rose’s cheeks. Diana surged forward, drawing her sister in law into a mighty hug. “That’s wonderful. It’s truly wonderful.”

Rose drew back slightly, a look of hesitation on her face. “But what do you suppose I should do? We haven’t discussed any of the things we were meant to discuss. I still don’t know if he’ll fully accept—all of this.” She gestured down, across her body, then patted herself over the heart. 

Diana squeezed her shoulder. “If he’s here, if he’s asking—then he already knows all that you are, and he wants it. You’re more than enough for him. When he asks you, tell him you’ll marry him. Tell him that you want for nothing more but to merge your life with his.”

Rose shook her head slightly. She looked as though she was in shock. “I will. I know that that’s the only answer I have. I cannot do anything else.”

Diana gave her a sad smile. For whatever reason, her heart ached, knowing that these big decisions would linger on in both of them for the remainder of their lives. Nothing would ever feel so big, so dramatic, so charged. And this was both good and bad. 

“Thank you, Diana,” Rose whispered. “I can’t tell you how much you’ve been a benefit to my life. And now, walking me through this immense decision. Perhaps if I hadn’t had your guidance, I would have gone with what my brain told me to do. Find someone else—someone less in-line with my heart, yet more in-line with my personality. But the heart wants what the heart wants. I know that fully, now.”

Diana’s eyes brimmed with tears. Rose grew blurry before her. 

“I’m only doing what you did for me, all those years ago,” she whispered. 

“What do you mean?”

“Ernest and I were entirely too frightened to make the proper moves to be with one another. But you arrived at my doorstep, insisting that he was still in love with me. You gave Ernest hell until he did what was right. You were there for us, every step of the way. I can never fully repay you for that.”

Diana gestured toward her children. Margery bobbed up and down on the grass, whilst William raced to and fro, chasing Penelope. Their laughter rang out.

“You gave me Ernest. You gave me them. And above all, you’ve been yourself, through and through, since I met you after the fire. You changed my life, Rose. I can never translate that enough. And the man you’re going to marry? I know if you feel it in your heart that he’s right, he is. I love you, and I love him, and I love the life you’re going to build together.”

Again, the women embraced, both lost in the knowledge that the rest of their lives were stretched out before them: that things would always change, yet they would always have one another. And they needed very little else to be happy. 

THE END

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