He chuckled. “It was the perfect storm. First, it has to do with where the house is situated on the street in relation to the prevalent winds.”
She laughed. “Always the sailor, aren’t you?”
“It will never quite leave me,” he said with a grin. “And it also has to do with all the wings Lyle Fotherington built on. He made the house so big that it blocks in all the fog that would otherwise blow away. The journal made it clear that the street never had such a preponderance of fog until he built those wings.” He paused. “We must face the truth, Jilly. My house is the reason for the fog.”
“Your house is a bottleneck?” She shook her head. “It’s a crazy theory, but—”
He put his chin up. “Just you wait. When you wake up in the morning tomorrow, I’ll bet you there won’t be any fog, or at least no more than they have on Half-Moon or Curzon Streets.”
She blinked back tears. “I trust you. But why, why would you give up your house so that we’d have less fog on Reader Street?”
He took her face in his hands. “For you, my love. I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to bring sunshine to the front door of Hodgepodge, so that Gridley would have more days to bask in it, so you’d have more reason to stand in the door and not huddle by the hearth. So people could see Otis’s waistcoats from a distance. So shoppers would come wandering down the street this Friday, when your new plan is set in motion, and buy books. I wanted to make this street a cheerful, sunny place, to match the warmth and love I’ve already found from
She squeezed her eyes shut a moment, but two teardrops formed anyway and made her vision blurry. “I love you, Stephen Arrow,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Jilly Jones.”
She couldn’t wait any longer.
She reached up and kissed him full on his handsome mouth.
He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her back.
A draft horse whinnied.
“Back up now, time for the next pull!” Lumley cried.
Friends, dogs, neighbors, lovers, and family tumbled past Jilly and Stephen, all in an effort to see the big house come down.
Stephen squeezed her close. “Good luck, bad luck—what does either one matter when you’re with the people you love?” he shouted above the creak of the horses’ harnesses and the general tumult as the ropes attached to the house stretched tauter and tauter.
Jilly gave a little hop of anticipation—
And the street was the happiest it had ever been.
EPILOGUE
“Who knew?” said Jilly, wrapping her leg around Stephen’s torso. “Who knew a first anniversary could be so blissful?”
“I did.” He pulled her close and kissed her once on the mouth. “It’s even better than the wedding.”
Where he’d fulfilled that old romantic notion of his and waltzed with his new bride—and her alone. The nuptial celebration had taken place a mere week after the bookstore event at Hodgepodge had initiated a whole new way of life on Reader Street. The tea had sold out, the sun had shone, and the energy of the neighborhood— and the scandalous tea, no doubt—had even brought Prinny back.
This time, Jilly sold him a book, and when she did, he assured her he’d be frequenting her shop on a regular basis.
Now, almost a year later, she and Stephen were nose to nose in her bed above Hodgepodge. Otis had moved into Lady Duchamp’s house and was now called her secretary, although Jilly had to wonder if there was something more between the two eccentrics.
When they weren’t yelling at each other, Lady Duchamp actually kept Otis’s life in order—not the other way around—by watching over his books and organizing the correspondence generated by his new business venture, a shop for men in the building vacated by Susan when she, Nathaniel, and Thomas had moved to a bigger house right next door to Hodgepodge after their wedding.
Otis’s shop was small and posh and simply called Otis. He sold his shoes, handkerchiefs, and men’s waistcoats there. In fact, his signature pieces were all the rage among the dandies in Town. Some were even beginning to call a new style of tying their cravat the Otis.
He’d offered to sell Susan’s gowns, as well, but now that Nathaniel was a successful artist—Lucio’s patronage had gone far to establishing him—Susan had decided to make custom garments only occasionally, and only for Lady Harry and other very rich customers, from a lovely sewing room in her home. She really preferred to sing while Nathaniel painted one floor above her in a lovely studio. After all, a new baby was on the way, and singing while she sewed her baby’s first clothes and Thomas played at her feet made her happier than anything.
The Hobbses were so rich now from the still-brisk sales of their aphrodisiac tea, Mrs. Hobbs and her children were no longer quite so pale. They’d had a lovely holiday in Italy and returned rather pink. And Mr. Hobbs—well, he no longer wore that grim expression or that horrible black cape. He was a happy man who got splendid sartorial advice from Otis—who understood his conservative nature and trod very carefully in selecting him clothes that suited his new, brighter self. Jilly suspected the tea, both as commodity and beverage, had nothing to do with Mr. Hobbs’s transformation. Mrs. Hobbs was the reason for his good cheer, and Mrs. Hobbs alone.
“You’re daydreaming,” Stephen said, pulling a lock of hair off her shoulder and putting it behind her, the better to reach her breast with his mouth.
“I suppose I am,” she murmured, and then gave a little moan.
He was doing naughty things to her.
She
“I was just thinking about Lucio and Miranda,” she said. “I can’t believe she’s a countess now. But it’s so delicious that she is.”
“Yes,” Stephen murmured against her belly now.
Jilly sighed. “Sir Ned and Lady Hartley were waxing on about the wedding, how big everything was at Lucio’s castle, how shiny and magnificent. I’m so sorry we missed it, but at least the Hobbses were there.”
“At least,” said Stephen, nudging aside her leg.
Jilly gasped at what he was doing.
And for the next several minutes, she floated away on a cloud of pure bliss.
When she returned, it was Stephen’s turn, and she took her time showing him how much she could never tell him exactly how much she loved him—because it was inexpressible, at least with words, wasn’t it?
She did the best she could with her mouth.
He apparently understood, judging from the lazy kisses he bestowed on her afterward.
Life was good, she thought, as she flicked back the curtains and saw the big, empty space that used to be 34 Dreare Street. It was now a small park for the neighborhood children to play in. Stephen had seen to that. Every bit of money he’d gotten from selling Alicia Fotherington’s small but valuable collection of jewelry and gold coins— which she’d stashed in a corner of the attic and was discovered by Otis during the cleanup—went to beautifying the lot.
Jilly liked to think of it as Alicia’s present to the world.
She hadn’t told Stephen yet, but soon …
They’d need that park for their own family.
Stephen watched his naked wife at the window and smiled at the wonderment of it all. He was a married man. God, he was like Harry and Nicholas now!
It still shocked him.
But then again, it didn’t.
