Rafe didn’t want to see her tears for fear they would cause his to fall. In the end, they did so anyway, making slow, wet tracks down his face.
Selina sniffed. “I’m glad they have always been together. I would want the same with Harry.”
“And I would with Anne.” He thought briefly of Eliza, whom he would always love and miss, but whom he’d finally been able to let go.
“I always thought we were so unlucky.” Selina squeezed his hand, then pivoted to face him. “But we aren’t. We can really look forward now, can’t we?”
He turned to her. “I plan to. And I will always be here for you. I’m sorry that wasn’t always the case.”
“As you said, we survived. That’s what matters.” She put her arms around his middle and hugged him.
Rafe held her close and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
After a few moments, they separated. Selina turned back to the crypt and pressed a kiss to her fingertips, which she then brushed over their parents’ names. “I may not have known you, but I love you too.”
Rafe wanted to repeat the sentiment, but he couldn’t. His throat was too tight, his emotions too strong.
Selina put her hand through his arm once more, and they turned back toward the gate. The three of them were quiet as they returned to the house.
Before they reached the terrace, Anne came running outside. “Rafe! Selina! They’ve found the most extraordinary thing!” Her eyes glowed with joy.
Rafe glanced toward Selina before hurrying inside to the drawing room. His breath immediately caught at the sight before him—a large portrait of a family of four leaned against a chair.
Selina brought her hand to her mouth. “Is that…?”
Harry, who was present, along with Thomas, came toward her and put his arm around her waist. “You and your parents, yes.”
A sob slipped from her mouth, and Harry held her close.
Rafe walked slowly to the painting and crouched down. Now, he saw them in his mind—his mother’s dazzling smile and his father’s bright blue eyes. She sat in a chair holding Selina on her lap while Papa stood to the right, his hand on Rafe’s shoulder. Rafe’s attention was on the pair of greyhounds at his feet, one spotted and one gray. “This is Fitz and Roy,” he said, smiling. He’d completely forgotten about them.
Selina’s hand clasped his shoulder just before she knelt down beside him, her face close to the painting. “I can’t—” She gasped, her hand going to the coral necklace at her throat. “Is that…? Is it the same?”
It was hard to tell at first glance, but Rafe studied the necklace in the portrait and then looked at the pendant around his sister’s neck. It was an exact match. “It can’t be,” he breathed. “That’s surely impossible.”
“It looks the same to me,” Beatrix said softly from next to Selina. “Even if it isn’t the same necklace, it looks as though it could be. Surely that’s some sort of sign. I know you both think Fate is silly, but—”
“I don’t. Not anymore.” Rafe stood and helped Selina to her feet. How could he think that when so many things had aligned in his favor, things he didn’t deserve or that should perhaps never have come to pass? His gaze settled on Anne, the second great love of his life. Yes, he believed in destiny.
“Where did they find this?” Selina asked, wiping new tears from her face as Harry came to her side.
“In a corner of the attic,” Anne said cheerfully. “The housekeeper took it upon herself to search every nook after we exhausted our search. She didn’t want to say anything in case she found nothing. You should have seen her exuberance.”
Rafe went and took Anne’s hand. “She should have been here. I must thank her.”
Anne grinned. “I know she’ll be delighted to see how happy you are.”
Selina exhaled as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, what a day this is.”
“You haven’t heard everything.” Anne went to a table near the door. “The post arrived and there are letters for you and Beatrix. From Deborah.”
“What?” Beatrix and Selina asked in unison, their stares of disbelief first colliding and then moving to Anne.
“Yes,” Anne said, delivering the letters to each of them. “She also wrote to me because she thought you might burn them before you read the contents.”
Beatrix snorted. “That’s the smartest thing Deborah has ever said.”
“If you don’t want to read them, you don’t have to, but they contain apologies. At least that’s what she wrote in my letter. Along with an apology to me and to Rafe.”
Rafe whistled through his teeth. “Do you think she means them?”
Anne lifted a shoulder. “Does it matter? It’s not as if we’re going to invite her to dinner.”
There was a beat of silence before everyone laughed.
Beatrix marched to the fireplace and tossed the unopened letter onto the cold hearth. Selina joined her and followed suit.
“Aren’t you even a little bit curious what she said?” Anne asked. “She was quite obsequious in her letter to me.”
Selina and Beatrix exchanged a look, then giggled. “Well, then, perhaps we should read them,” Beatrix said. “Later.” She bent to retrieve them and set them on the mantel.
As Rafe surveyed the room, he didn’t think his heart could be any more full. This was the life he’d always wanted, the life he wasn’t sure he would ever have.
Everyone discussed the portrait, and the housekeeper came in so Rafe and Selina were able to thank her. At length, everyone but Rafe and Anne left until they planned to reconvene for dinner.
Anne moved closer to him on the settee and leaned against his chest. “I’m so glad they found the portrait. Your family is so lovely.”
“Does it make you sad?” he asked quietly, thinking of how her mother had come to London for their wedding, but not her father.
She turned her head to glance up at him. “Why? Because my family is not quite so lovely?” She settled back against him.
