“Careful, Hugh,” Emmeline murmured, reaching out a protective hand towards her small son, who sat chewing his fingers contentedly on the blanket in the sunshine. He was perfectly safe where he was, but their eldest daughter, Charlotte, was running around and might crash into him. 

Andrew, sitting opposite her, smiled warmly. “He’s all right. Charlotte, dear…come here a moment?”

Charlotte, now four years old, ran to her father, her face blossoming into a big grin. She had a long, narrow countenance that was the image of her father—in fact she looked exactly like him except for the thick cloud of rich russet curls, which everyone said must have come from Emmeline, though Emmeline’s hair was more auburn than russet. She privately suspected that someone on Andrew’s mother’s side had bestowed the thick, dark-red hair on their descendant.

“Papa! Papa!” Charlotte called out. “So many flowers, Papa.”

Andrew grinned, his smile lighting Emmeline’s heart. 

“Indeed, there are,” he agreed with Charlotte warmly. “So many flowers.” It was summertime, and the flowerbeds by the manor were a riot of colour. They were all seated on a picnic blanket on the front lawns, discreetly shaded by the big hedges that had been planted to afford those in the water garden some privacy from the house. From that position, they could see the wide borders that had been dug at the front of the manor, featuring all manner of summer-flowering plants.

“I can see roses, and irises, and pansies!” Charlotte told her father proudly.

Emmeline’s heart swelled with pride. “You’re quite right, Charlotte,” she said gently. “You know your flowers.”

“I want to be like Grandma!” Charlotte declared. “When’s she coming?”

Emmeline beamed. Charlotte was referring to her mother, who loved flowers. “She’s going to visit in about half an hour, dear,” she explained, frowning at Andrew. He must have understood what she was asking because he reached into his pocket and took out his watch.

“It’s half past eleven,” he told her. “Or thereabouts.”

“Thank you,” Emmeline said warmly. She looked down at the picnic blanket, where the basket was set out in the centre. Her gaze moved to her hand, her skin pale against the dark blanket. She was wearing a day dress in rich emerald linen with short, puffed sleeves. It was cool despite the heat of the morning. 

Beside them on the blanket, little Hugh lost interest in his fingers and began to crawl across the blanket to the lawn. At two, he was well able to stand up and run around, but he favoured crawling—Andrew said it was only sensible, since sometimes the things he wanted were closer to the floor.

“Fly!” Hugh informed her, grinning.

“A butterfly, you mean?” Andrew inquired, glancing up at the butterfly that flitted past the blanket.

Hugh frowned and Andrew repeated the word. “Butterfly,” he told Hugh gently.

“Butterfly,” Hugh repeated, smiling delightedly.

“Yes!” Emmeline clasped her hands together in delight. “A butterfly.”

“Where it goes?” Hugh asked, looking around with bewilderment for the butterfly. Emmeline’s heart melted. Contrary to the customs of the noble families around them, she and Andrew had chosen to be as involved as possible in the lives of their children. It was a choice she was grateful for, since she would not ever wish to miss a moment such as Hugh looking for the butterfly.

“It went to the flowers, sweetheart,” she told him gently. “It needs to drink and eat too.”

“Eat!” The notion distracted Hugh entirely from the wandering butterfly and he beamed. “Eat,” he repeated, glancing at the basket as though he expected them to open it and feed him at once.

Andrew chuckled. “Not just yet, young man. We need to wait for a few moments more.”

“Grandma is coming to visit,” Charlotte told Hugh swiftly. “We can show her the garden.”

Emmeline beamed. The closeness between her own mother and Charlotte was an immense source of joy for her. 

“Butterfly,” Hugh remembered as the butterfly reappeared near the blanket. Charlotte nodded.

“Let’s try and catch it,” she suggested to Hugh. “Come on.”

Emmeline leaned back a little, her heart filled with joy as she watched the two children running across the lawn. Andrew was watching them too, a smile of love on his face.

“Charlotte is so good with him,” Andrew commented.

“She loves him dearly,” Emmeline agreed. Her own childhood had been lit up by Amelia’s presence, so she was extremely grateful that Charlotte and Hugh had one another for companionship. Andrew, who had also been an only child, nodded wistfully.

“Indeed. It is grand to see.”

Emmeline nodded, watching as the two children ran around the lawn together. Hugh was considerably slower, but Charlotte somehow always managed to slow down just enough to keep pace with him. She was a sensible, grown-up child for her four years and Emmeline was quietly proud of her whenever she saw her.

“When do you think the guests will arrive?” Emmeline asked, glancing at Andrew. He lifted a shoulder.

“Probably round about now,” he replied. “I recall the invitation said midday.”

Emmeline nodded. She had written the invitations out, and Mr Pearson had made sure they all got sent. Mama would be staying with them for the next two months—it was her habit to spend the hot summer months in the countryside, and she had taken to spending them at Rilendale Manor. It was bliss for Emmeline, and the children, but Grandma—Andrew’s grandmother—also enjoyed her visits since she and Mama had found a great deal of respect and mutual admiration. Mama often walked with Grandma—who they all referred to as Great-Grandma now—around the gardens in the afternoons and they spent time admiring the beautiful flowerbeds and water features.

“I had the guest suite made ready,” Emmeline commented. Mama always stayed in the topmost guest suite, which was decorated with white flocked-silk wallpaper and curtains with a pattern of pink roses.

“Good,” Andrew replied warmly. He frowned and tilted his head. Emmeline did likewise and heard the sound of horses approaching. A small coach, she guessed.

“Here are our first guests,” Andrew said with a smile as a small, modest coach in expensive wood rolled up. 

“Amelia!” Emmeline called as the children ran over. “Look! It’s Auntie Amelia.”

“Auntie! Uncle!” Hugh called out in delight, and Emmeline smiled as Andrew caught him to stop him from running over to the coach.

“I say, young man!” he said with a grin, lifting Hugh up over his head. “You’re getting faster.”

“Auntie! Uncle!” Hugh protested, kicking his feet, though he was grinning and laughing as Andrew stood up, swinging him high into the air.

“In a moment, my impatient one.”

Emmeline was laughing with Hugh and Andrew as the coach stopped. Charlotte, who was holding her hand, looked up imploringly at her.

“Yes, you may run over there,” Emmeline told her. The coach-horses were standing, and besides, Charlotte was already very good with horses and ponies. The horses at the estate adored her and she adored them. Andrew had already got her a pony, and he was planning whether they should hire a riding instructor or do the instruction themselves. While the latter was almost unheard-of for noble families, they both preferred it. They both knew how important it was for children to spend time with, and learn from, their parents.

Charlotte, already laughing in delight, ran to the coach as Neville alighted lightly. He saw her and picked her up, making her squeal with laughter.

“I say! It’s a fair princess!” he teased, whirling Charlotte through the air and setting her on her feet. “I declare you’re taller than when I saw you last.”

“You last saw me a whole fortnight ago,” Charlotte informed him, gazing up at him with big wide eyes as though that was an impossibly long time.

Emmeline and Andrew walked over to join them. Andrew was carrying Hugh, who let out a cry of delight as he saw Neville and Amelia, who had just alighted from the coach.

“Uncle! Auntie!”

Emmeline saw Amelia’s face light up and she reached for little Hugh, lifting him up. She grunted in surprise.

“What a big boy you are!” she declared and looked over at Emmeline. Her dark eyes shone with warmth. She bent to put Hugh on the ground and took Emmeline’s hands, staring into her face. “Emmeline,” she murmured.

“Amelia. So good to see you.” She stared at her for a moment and then could not wait any longer.

She reached forward and drew Amelia into a crushing embrace. Amelia hugged her equally firmly and then she turned as a young woman alighted from the coach, a bundle in her arms.

“Emily, if you could pass little Dottie to me?”

“Of course.” The woman, who was evidently a nursemaid, passed Amelia the little girl and Emmeline stared at her in awe.

“She’s so beautiful,” she murmured. At one year old, Dottie had Amelia’s dark eyes with their limpid quality and dark lashes, Neville’s dark hair and a sweet, dimpled countenance. She beamed at Emmeline.

“Who is that?” Amelia asked Dottie.

“Attie,” the little girl informed her. She could not say “Auntie,”, and Emmeline grinned at the adorable title.

“And who is that?” Amelia asked Dottie as Andrew came up, Hugh holding his hand.

“Uccl.”

They all smiled, and Andrew inclined his head. “Yes. Uccl Andrew,” he told the little girl, grinning at her. Dottie grinned back, her eyes widening as she saw him. Emmeline felt her lips lift at the corners with joy and love. The little girl was so beautiful and the adorable grin she gave Andrew was irresistible. Amelia, Neville, and Dottie were frequent visitors, and they saw them almost every second week, but every time they did, Dottie seemed to have grown immeasurably and was able to do new things.

“Mama and Papa have taken the other coach,” Neville informed Andrew. Neville’s parents, too, often visited the manor, though not nearly as often as Neville and Amelia themselves did.

Andrew nodded. “It’s not any bother. You’re the first guests to arrive,” he informed them as they all went towards the picnic rug. Neville was carrying Dottie, and she was gazing with fascination at little Hugh.

“We can let them play here,” Emmeline suggested as they reached the rug. The big lawn beside them was quite safe, and there was nowhere for Dottie to wander off to without one of the adults seeing her. The maid, Emily, went to sit on the bench to watch the children and Emmeline shot her a grateful smile. Another pair of eyes was definitely welcome.

Amelia smiled and nodded to Neville, who carefully put Dottie on the lawn. At one, Dottie had just started to walk, and she was still a little unsteady on her feet. Hugh, who could walk with quite appreciable skill already, saw her and toddled over.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand. Dottie grinned and took his hand eagerly. Emmeline’s heart filled with love and admiration. His use of words might be limited, but Hugh was a gentleman through and through.

She watched with delight as the two little children toddled about the lawn together. Charlotte, who was running about on the lawn, hurried over. 

“Uncle Neville!” she yelled, running for him.

“Charlotte!”

He yelled in delight as she threw herself at him and he lifted her up into the air, her feet in their little white leather boots kicking.

“Put me down!” she protested, though she was giggling and laughing and clearly enjoyed it.

“On the rug?” Neville asked and set her down carefully on the picnic blanket before sitting down beside her.

Andrew and Emmeline came over to join them, and Amelia sat down too, her gaze straying to Dottie and Hugh almost at once. Emmeline smiled to herself. She had been every bit as nervous when Charlotte and Hugh had begun walking, but Charlotte had been a great help to Hugh. She had no doubt Dottie would be quite all right.

“Did you have a good trip?” she asked, though Neville’s home was only an hour away by coach.

“Very good,” Amelia informed her. “Dottie slept very well.”

“Good,” Emmeline affirmed. Having a small baby awake and fretting in the coach would be unpleasant—especially for the baby, who would likely be terrified by the noises and movement.

“I can hear the coach,” Neville interrupted, and Emmeline looked over to the carriage path, to see an older coach of darker wood approaching. It was indeed Neville’s parents, and despite being pleased to see them, a twist of disappointment clutched her belly as she wanted her own mother to arrive. Just as she looked away, though, she heard coach wheels.

“It’s Lady Radley,” Andrew said softly.

“Mama!” Emmeline declared. She fought the urge to spring up and run to the coach, and Andrew, clearly seeing her excitement, stood and reached for Charlotte’s hand. Charlotte gazed up at him.

“It’s Grandma,” she said imploringly.

“Off you go, then,” Andrew said gently.

“Hurrah! Grandma! Grandma!”

Emmeline watched as her daughter raced to greet her mother, her heart flooding with love to see the joy that the two took in each other. 

“Granddaughter! Charlotte!” Lady Radley said delightedly, her voice drifting to where Emmeline and Andrew sat on the rug. Emmeline watched as Charlotte impulsively hugged her grandmother, who bent down and kissed her soft russet-red hair.

“My sweet granddaughter,” the viscountess murmured as she walked with Charlotte towards the rug. Emmeline was already on her feet, hurrying to meet them. Lady Radley’s face broke into a joyous smile and Emmeline embraced her, holding her tight.

“Mama. So good to see you.” Her heart filled with love as she breathed in the familiar scent of Mama’s perfume. It was so good to hold her close.

“My dearest Emmeline,” Lady Radley said, her voice sounding close to tears. She hugged Emmeline tightly and then, after a moment or two, stepped back. “You look well,” she said warmly. Her hazel eyes were full of love.

“I am,” Emmeline said gently.

“Where is my grandson?” Lady Radley asked as Andrew crossed the lawn, the little boy in question gripping tight to his shoulder where Andrew carried him in his arms.

“Grandma!” Hugh yelled. “Grandma!”

Emmeline chuckled as Andrew held Hugh out to her mother and the little boy gazed up at her face.

“Hair,” Hugh commented. Emmeline and Lady Radley chuckled. The viscountess had, indeed, arranged her hair differently, allowing some grey-frosted blonde curls to show in the front of the muslin cap she wore. Lady Radley beamed at him.

“Yes. I have hair today, young man. And how are you?”

“Food!” Hugh informed his grandma. His big grin made them all laugh.

“You are hungry, I take it?”

Andrew chuckled. “He’s always hungry.”

They were all laughing as they made their way to the picnic blanket.

“I say,” Neville commented as they settled down to eat. “How is the stable?”

“The horses are all well,” Andrew told him, reaching for the hamper and helping himself to some smoked chicken. “The new pony settled in beautifully,” he added. Neville had found them a small Shetland for Charlotte, and the little girl adored her.

Neville chuckled. “I’m pleased. I thought she might break out or attack the others. She has a temper like a Tartar!”

Emmeline smiled. “She likes Charlotte.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “Well, then, your daughter is a very special girl. We knew that, of course. But I am most impressed,” he added solemnly.

“I can ride at a trot!” Charlotte, who was sitting next to Lady Radley on the rug, informed Neville. “And I went out for an hour with Papa yesterday.”

Neville grinned at Emmeline and Andrew. “I take it you decided to take on the job of riding instructor now?” He glanced at Andrew.

Andrew chuckled. “It seems so,” he agreed. “Not that she needs much teaching.”

“I can ride by myself!” Charlotte informed Neville proudly.

Emmeline smiled. “You’re very good,” she assured Charlotte. The viscountess, sitting next to the little girl, put her arm around her.

“When you’re big, you’ll ride all over the estate.”

“I can ride all over the estate now!” Charlotte said with a grin. Lady Radley ruffled her hair.

“I believe you,” she said warmly. “Would you like some lemonade?”

“Lemonade!” Charlotte replied joyfully.

Emmeline leaned back and watched the happy gathering. Hugh was sitting with Dottie on the rug, a short distance from Andrew. The maid, Emily, had joined them and she was feeding the two little ones with pieces of sandwich. Emmeline smiled to herself. Charlotte was curled up next to her grandma, the two of them sharing occasional conversation about the picnic. As she looked up, she spotted the dowager countess walking across the lawn, supported by her cane. She wore a navy blue dress and pearls, her soft face serene and dignified. Andrew stood up and ran to her.

“Grandma! Come and join us,” she said at once. She gestured to the picnic rug. “Pearson had a seat brought for you.” 

“That’s very kind,” Grandma replied.

Grandma came and settled on a stool, and they all sat in the sunshine, enjoying the delicious hamper that the cook had prepared for them.

“The renovations look grand,” Neville commented, glancing over at the manor. The rebuilding of the place had taken three years, but it was at last complete. The guest wing had been completed and refurbished and it now looked as though it had never been tumble-down and ruinous.

“Thank you,” Andrew answered with a grin. “And of course, you and Amelia—and little Dottie—are welcome to stay at any time.”

“We might just,” Neville said with a smile. “But it’d be a pity to miss the ride back in the coach.”

“Is it so enjoyable?” Andrew asked.

“Best money I ever spent,” Neville informed him warmly.

Emmeline helped herself to some cold cheese and onion tart and shut her eyes as she ate. In the warm sunshine, the delicious food and the murmur of conversation were blissful. She could hear bees in the lavender and smell the sweet scent of sun-drenched lawn, mingled with the perfume of the flowers. She opened her eyes again, smiling warmly. Charlotte was almost asleep on the mat, lying on her back with her head partly on Mama’s lap. Hugh and Dottie were still being fed pieces of cold pie, and Hugh was clapping with delight at the food. Andrew was right—he had a wondrous appetite and was always ready for food.

“Shall we take a walk about the grounds?” Amelia asked as they nibbled on jam tartlets and sipped lemonade.

Emmeline beamed. Andrew inclined his head.

“A good notion,” he agreed. 

“I think the little ones may wish to rest,” Emmeline noted, gesturing to the children. Hugh and Dottie were still awake, if barely, eyelids drooping where they sat on the rug, and Charlotte was sleeping, her breath regular where she lay on the mat beside her grandmother.

“I’ll go back to the house as well,” Grandma said warmly. “The little ones can come back with me.”

“Thank you,” Emmeline said gratefully.

“I’ll carry Charlotte in,” Andrew offered. 

“I’ll take Hugh, then,” Emmeline suggested. When she stood, Amelia came with her to take Dottie. They all walked back to the house.

“I’m very pleased by your mother’s suggestion of a tincture of wintergreen for my joint pain,” Grandma commented as she and Emmeline walked together. Hugh was sleeping in Emmeline’s arms. She shifted his weight and smiled.

“I’m glad she had some suggestions,” she agreed. Mama and Grandma shared a love of plants, and it was unsurprising that they found a great deal to share.

“I will request that Mr Soames clears the upper part near the rock garden,” Grandma noted. “It should be a good place for the wintergreen to grow.”

Emmeline just smiled. She could imagine Grandma and Mama would spend hours talking about plants during her stay.

They took the children up to the nursery, where Emily and Miss Highgate, the children’s nursemaid, would look after them for an hour or two. Then they all went back down to the garden.

“Grandma seems very well,” Amelia commented as they fell into step together.

“She is,” Emmeline agreed. “And I think Mama and she will have a great deal to discuss during her stay.”

“I imagine they will.”

They walked quietly together, enjoying the sunshine. It was intensely warm, and they followed a shaded path up through the garden towards the stables. The area near the stables had been used to make a rock garden since it had brackish soil but caught plenty of sunshine. The rocks were partly gathered from the fallen masonry of the house, and Emmeline was delighted to see the sun-loving plants starting to scramble across the big rockpiles.

“A fine day,” Emmeline commented as they strolled together. Her gaze strayed to Andrew and Neville, who were walking together just a few paces ahead. Her heart raced. Andrew was such a handsome man; she could not help but notice it as he strolled ahead, his navy blue coat conforming to his wide shoulders, his long legs clad in dark trousers. 

“It is,” Amelia said with a smile. Her gaze was on Neville, and Emmeline chuckled.

“A handsome pair,” she complimented, glancing at the men up ahead.

Amelia blushed. “Indeed,” she replied. 

They shared a giggle.

Emmeline gazed around the garden as they walked. The gardeners had done an excellent job. Stanley, the gardener from Ashmore who had accompanied her to the manor, had helped a great deal and was now second-in-command to the head gardener. He was courting Miss Highgate, the children’s maid, and Emmeline could not wait to be able to present them with a small cottage on the estate where they could live and tend the gardens and the family.

They strolled past swathes of irises, their purple blooms moving in a gentle breeze. The gardens were a riot of colour, the rosebushes gifting their sweet fragrance to the air and daisies nodding in the breeze. Green lawns stretched out under the trees, inviting visitors to stroll about their length or sit and picnic in the sunshine. Tall trees stretched sunwards, providing lakes of cool shade to take refuge in from the heat. It was a beautiful garden.

“Starlight!” Emmeline greeted her horse, who was exercising in the yard. The soft-tempered white mare put her head over the fence and Emmeline scratched her brow lovingly. She and Emmeline went riding every second day—there was nothing they loved better. The manor offered so many paths and trails for one to ride and explore and, though Emmeline and Starlight knew most of them by now, they still loved to ride them whenever possible.

“That’s Mayflower,” she said, grinning at the pony, whose head was sticking up—just—over the door of her stall. The grey pony huffed irritably. Emmeline chuckled.

“You’re sure she’s safe?” Amelia asked, eyeing the pony worriedly. Emmeline hugged her cousin lovingly.

“I’m sure,” she promised. Amelia had always had a fear of horses. 

They walked on towards the new rock garden.

“What’s that?” Neville asked, staring in awe at the scrubby Alpine plants that had been carefully and lovingly transplanted into the rocky space. Andrew chuckled.

“It’s a low-growing shrub—it produces berries in the autumn. We have yet to taste them,” he added with a raised brow. “When they are ready, you are of course all invited to taste them, for I’m sure our cook will think of some new pie to make with them.” 

Emmeline smiled and went to stand with Andrew as their guests enjoyed the beautiful new space. Benches had been set out under the trees to provide a space to view the spot. Andrew’s parents and Lady Radley had already settled down on some of the benches and Emmeline, Andrew, Amelia, and Neville went to sit on the third. They all contemplated the gardens in silence.

“I say,” Neville said after a moment of watching the bees on the flowers. “That’s an awful lot of stone you found there.”

Andrew grinned. “That’s the old north wall, you know.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “You pulled it all down?”

Andrew nodded, lifting one shoulder. “Most of it, anyway,” he answered. “We had to. That part of the building was all structurally dangerous.”

“Best thing to do, then,” Neville replied, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “You built onto that part, though?”

“Mm.” Andrew inclined his head. “The new library wing.”

Emmeline smiled to herself. The reason for extending the library had been twofold—they had wished, firstly, to house the large book collection properly and make room for the upcoming generations to add to it, and secondly, they needed a space to house the treasure. A good portion of it had been sold to a museum to pay for the repairs, but the part that was left was on display in the new wing of the library. 

“That’s a grand room,” Neville agreed. “Might we all make our way there again? I wanted to take a proper look at the coins.”

“Of course,” Andrew agreed, glancing at Emmeline and Amelia. “If we all agree?”

Emmeline looked towards Amelia, who nodded.

“I would like that,” she agreed. 

Andrew invited Lady Radley as well as Lord and Lady Esterfield—Neville’s parents—to join them, and they all trooped slowly inside.

The new part of the library was built off the hallway that joined the library to the ballroom. They made their way to it and Emmeline tilted her head, staring upwards. The ceiling was as high as that in the older section of the library, only it seemed much lighter since there were more windows. There were shelves on every wall, though not many of them were filled yet, and the floor was glowingly polished wood. It was a warm space, with a fireplace built in the corner where one might sit to read the books, but the main feature of the new wing was the specially built mahogany table with raised sides that was the display stand for the treasure. 

Emmeline went and stared down at it. As always, she found it confusing as well as reassuring. When she looked at it, she could not help but recall the first time she had seen it, when Lord Epworth had threatened herself and Andrew at gunpoint. She suppressed a shiver as she always did. Then she smiled.

The first time she had seen the treasure had been the first time—almost the first time—that she and Andrew had confessed their love to one another. That was what the treasure had come to represent to her.

The gold coins winked in the light, impressed with the sigil of what had then been the mighty Spanish Empire. The little bars of gold were likewise moulded to bear the seal of Spain. Displayed on the dark wood, they caught the sunshine and glowed brightly with it. She would have expected them to feel warm to the touch.

“It’s impressive,” Neville said in a low voice.

“It’s beautiful,” Amelia agreed. “The display table houses it perfectly.”

“It was a wretched job getting it through the door,” Andrew said with a grin. “Three of the garden staff had to carry it in. Mahogany is heavier than it looks.”

“I’m sure,” Neville replied.

They all stood and admired the treasure. Lady Radley stared down at it and then gazed up at the big windows. 

“So light and airy, this room,” she commented.

Emmeline smiled fondly at her mother. She always managed to relieve tension. Trust her to find more worth in the beauty of Nature than in the lifeless gold.

“It is a very pleasant room,” she agreed.

“And with plenty of room,” Andrew added.

They strolled over to look at the new bookshelves. 

“We heard of an auction house in London where they frequently have valuable old titles,” Amelia related.

“Oh?” Andrew asked with obvious interest. Something that always grabbed his attention was antique books. It was a taste he had seemed to inherit from his mother—Emmeline had looked through a lot of her books in the Pink Parlour that Andrew had given to her and had found many valuable first editions. Grandma, too, was very keen on books.

Their guests wandered through the library and Lord and Lady Esterfield settled by the fire, seeming content to page through the copies of books they found there.

“If it would not seem rude,” Amelia murmured, “Neville and I would like to stretch our legs a little after luncheon.” They usually visited in the afternoon and stayed for tea before riding back to Esterfield estate.

“Of course,” Andrew replied at once.

“I will go upstairs and rest,” Lady Radley said softly, and Emmeline nodded.

“Of course, Mama. You must be tired after your journey.”

The guests dispersed and Andrew and Emmeline followed Amelia and Neville out into the grounds, heading to the rose arbor.

“That was a lovely lunch,” Emmeline commented as they wandered through the fragrant garden and found a bench to sit on in the shade of a spreading tree.

“It was, certainly,” Andrew agreed. He sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her. Emmeline nestled close to him, shutting her eyes for a moment as she leaned her head on his chest. She loved to feel his strong, warm arms holding her tight.

“Neville seems to like the new library,” Andrew stated with a grin.

“Indeed,” Emmeline agreed. “It is an excellent place to house the treasure.”

“Mm.” Andrew nodded, and they sat silently for a moment.

“I always find it unnerving,” Emmeline admitted as they sat in the silence of the fragrant rose garden.

“The treasure?”

“Mm.”

They sat silently for a long moment and Emmeline thought that Andrew had forgotten what she had said, but then he continued to speak. She could hear he was smiling by the tone of his voice.

“I always like to think about when we found it. It was a remarkable effort we made—I remember thinking at the time how pleasant it was to do something like that with you to help me.”

Emmeline grinned warmly. “I thought the same thing!” she said with a delighted giggle in her tone.

“I remember looking at that treasure and thinking that it didn’t really matter to me,” Andrew said slowly. “That Uncle had spent his life hunting it, that my cousins were willing to kill for it, but it meant nothing—certainly nothing like what they were willing to risk for it.”

“Yes!” Emmeline’s heart lifted. He clearly had the same strange feeling when he looked at it as she did. “It certainly has value, but what value is gold compared to what they threw away so lightly?”

“Mm.” Andrew nodded slowly, and they sat silently for a moment. “It can help you have an easier life, gold; but it can’t give one health or joy. Or love.”

“No,” Emmeline agreed softly. “No. We did find treasure that day, but it was not that treasure.” She grinned and Andrew smiled.

“I found you,” he agreed. “I found love.”

“And that is the real treasure. Beyond price.”

Andrew smiled and leaned in gently, kissing her cheek. Emmeline shut her eyes and her heart thudded as his kiss found her lips. Her heart soared and her soul filled with joy and she clung to Andrew and kissed him, holding him tight to her chest.

They had indeed found one another, and love.

She nestled against Andrew, his comforting warmth spreading through her as the world around them seemed to pause. The rose garden, bathed in the golden glow of the soft afternoon sunshine, felt timeless and serene. In his arms, she found the quiet certainty she had always longed for, and as they stood together, surrounded by the fragrant blooms, she knew their world was at peace—full of love, hope, and the promise of all that was yet to come.

The End