A Gentleman for Lady Juniper (Clairvoir Castle #6)

Epilogue

The little house Jack had found stood nestled on the edge of a quiet, wooded glen, its ivy-clad walls and steep gables lending it an air of mystery which was entirely befitting of the Gothic tales Juniper so adored. The tall, narrow windows gleamed in the summer’s Yorkshire morning sun, and a faint mist curled around the grounds, giving the place an almost ethereal quality. Jack paused by the gate, glancing back at his wife who stood beside him, her gaze sweeping over the house with unfeigned delight.

“It is exactly as I imagined,” she murmured, her eyes alight with excitement. “I knew it would be wonderful, but this—” She gestured toward the stone facade, with its weathered carvings and the arched doorway that seemed to beckon them inside. “It is absolutely perfect.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I hoped you would say that.” He took her hand in his and led her up the path to the front door. “I remembered how your eyes lit up the first time you came to Clairvoir, and I thought…why not give you a bit of that magic to call your own?”

She squeezed his hand as they stepped over the threshold into the narrow entryway, where the dark wooden paneling and deep blue walls created a warm, inviting atmosphere. “You know me far too well already, Mr. Sterling,” she teased, glancing up at him with a playful glint in her eye. “I shall have to attempt to keep some secrets, to maintain an appropriate air of mystery.”

“Too late for that, Mrs. Sterling,” he replied with a grin, closing the door behind them. “You have already revealed your fondness for all things Gothic. I daresay I know what kind of novels I will find tucked under your pillow at night.”

She laughed softly, the sound filling the little corridor as though it belonged there. “And you will read them with me, will you not?” She moved farther into the house to admire a stone niche where a small statue of a knight in armor had been set.

“Only if you promise to stop reading when it gets dark,” he said, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone as his heart sang. “I would rather not have you frightening yourself with ghostly tales before sleep.”

“Oh, I am not so easily frightened,” Juniper replied, casting him a sidelong glance as she moved into the sitting room, where the mullioned windows framed a view of the trees. “Besides, I have you to protect me. My very own shepherd dog.”

Jack followed her into the room, contentment settling over him as he watched her take in the details of their new home—the carved mantlepiece with its intricate designs, the slightly crooked bookcase that he was sure she would soon fill, the alcove by the window where they might take tea and watch the seasons change. It was a small house, humble by some standards, but it was theirs. It was a place where they could build their life together, away from the pressures and expectations of London Society.

“Do you like it, truly?” he asked, needing to hear her say the words though her expression had already told him as much.

Juniper turned to him, her smile softening as she reached up to brush her fingers against his cheek. “Like it? Those words are not enough, Jack. I love it. This house is everything I could want.” She paused, her gaze sweeping over the room again. “It feels like a place where stories could be written—where adventures will begin. And to think, it is ours .”

He took her hand, raising it to his lips, unable to stay away from her any longer. “Then I am glad I did not wait another day to bring you here,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I know it isn’t a grand estate, and not nearly as impressive as Clairvoir?—”

“It is far better,” she interrupted, fierceness in her tone. “Because this house is ours. It is our home. Our beginning.”

Jack’s heart swelled at her words and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Our beginning,” he echoed, the weight of it sinking in as he held her.

He had spent so long trying to prove himself, to earn the right to happiness, but in this moment he realized that it had always been simpler than that. It wasn’t about titles or Society’s approval—it was about this, about the woman he loved, and the life they had chosen to share.

As they stood there in the quiet of their new home, Jack’s gaze drifted to the window, where the mist was dissipating around the trees. The house seemed to breathe with a life of its own, the shadows in the corners fading as the light outside grew brighter. It was exactly the kind of place Juniper had loved to read about—the kind of place where a Gothic heroine might find herself swept up in adventure and mystery. He couldn’t wait to explore it with her, to create a life filled with moments like this: small, unassuming, and perfect in their way.

Juniper pulled back slightly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Now, where shall we begin?” Her eyes shone with mischief. “Shall we explore every nook and cranny, or would you rather sit by the fire and discuss our plans for the future?”

Jack’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I think,” he said, drawing her closer once more with a familiar gleam in his eye, “I would much rather start with a kiss. The rest can wait. ”

She tilted her head up, her smile mirroring his. “A most excellent idea, Mr. Sterling,” she murmured, and then his lips met hers, sealing the promise of their new life together.

As the shadows diminished outside, the little house grew warmer, welcoming them into the comfort of its walls—a place where love, and all its stories, could truly begin.

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop outside Jack and Juniper’s new home, and Lady Emily Sterling peered out the window, taking in the sight of the little Gothic house nestled amongst the trees. It was charming, with its ivy-covered walls and arched windows, like something out of one of the novels Juniper loved so dearly. As Emily descended from the carriage, a flutter of anticipation filled her chest. It had been a month since her brother’s wedding, and she was eager to see how the newlyweds were settling in.

Her brother and new sister-in-law stood at the door waiting to receive her, along with no more than four servants.

“Emily,” her brother said, inclining his head with a smile. “Welcome.”

Juniper reached out to take her hands as Emily’s maid started gathering together her trunk. “I am so glad you have come. You must be tired from the journey. Do come in and make yourself comfortable.”

The warmth in her voice and the genuine happiness in her expression left no room for doubt—Juniper was truly delighted to see her.

The ease and affection between the happy couple was palpable. They seemed to exist in their own world, even in this small house where space was shared and rooms were close. It was a subtle thing—the way Jack’s hand brushed Juniper’s as he moved past her, the soft look in Juniper’s eyes as she watched him speak. There was a tenderness there, an understanding that spoke of a deeper connection than Emily had imagined for herself.

She found herself glancing away, a twist of longing catching her unawares. It was a beautiful thing, this kind of love—steady and true, the kind that endured long after the whirlwind of heady courtship had settled. Her brother had found it, and it had transformed him. She had never seen him so content, not even in the happiest days of their childhood. And Juniper—Juniper positively glowed with joy. Emily couldn’t help but admire the way they complemented each other: two halves of a whole, their love evident in even the smallest gestures.

“I must confess,” Emily said lightly, “I was expecting a grand tour of this house from the moment I arrived.”

Juniper laughed, her arm linked with Emily’s as she led her farther inside. “You shall have it,” she promised. “Though I will warn you, it is not grand in the slightest, but it has character.”

As they wandered from room to room, Emily’s admiration grew. It wasn’t that the house itself was particularly impressive—no, it was the way it felt. Every corner, every niche had been thoughtfully furnished, with a blend of Juniper’s favorite touches and Jack’s simpler tastes. It was a place that spoke of two people coming together to create something new, something that belonged to them both.

When they reached the small library, Emily lingered by the window, looking out at the gently sloping hills beyond. “It is a beautiful house,” she said quietly. “You have made it a true home.”

“We have.” Juniper’s gaze drifted toward the corridor, where Jack’s voice could be heard instructing the footman about Emily’s trunks. “It is more than I ever dared to hope for.”

Emily turned back to her, a wistful smile on her lips. “I am glad,” she said sincerely. “You both deserve this happiness. ”

Juniper’s hand reached out to touch Emily’s arm, a silent acknowledgment that did not need words. It was a reminder that their friendship had deepened into sisterhood, something more lasting and profound than the circumstances that had first brought them together.

As the day wore on, Emily found herself watching the happy pair as they went about their routines, their hands often finding one another, their gazes meeting and holding with unspoken affection. It was impossible to miss the joy that existed between them—joy that filled the small house with a sense of completeness.

But it also brought a subtle ache to Emily’s heart. Though her family’s reputation had been mended through the Duchess of Bedford’s friendship, and she had indeed received offers that Season, she had decided to end it unmarried. It wasn’t that there hadn’t been opportunities—there had been. Yet none of the gentlemen who paid her court had stirred her heart in the way she yearned for. None of them had looked at her the way Jack looked at Juniper, or had made her feel the way Juniper’s presence clearly brought light into Jack’s life.

Emily stepped outside for a moment of fresh air, making her way to the small garden behind the house. The view from there was lovely, with the rolling landscape spreading out like a patchwork quilt. She turned her gaze eastward, where the city of York lay just a few miles away. Her thoughts drifted to a certain gentleman of the neighborhood—Lyness Eastwood.

She hadn’t seen him in months, not since their chance encounter during one of the Season’s gatherings. There had been nothing extraordinary about their meeting, not really—a few polite exchanges, a shared dance, some flowers received. Yet something about him lingered in her memory. His quiet, steady demeanor, the way he had listened to her with genuine interest, the kindness in his eyes when he had mentioned his love for the countryside and his own home in York .

It was only a passing acquaintance, a single evening’s worth of conversation, and yet… she wondered. What was he doing now, she mused, as her gaze lingered on the horizon? Was he still in York, or had he traveled elsewhere? Did he remember that evening as she did, with a faint curiosity of what might have been if either of them had dared to extend the conversation?

Emily shook her head with a rueful smile. It was foolish, perhaps, to dwell on such things. But as she turned to go back inside, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a chance for a love like the one she witnessed between Jack and Juniper; if fate was kind, and if she was brave enough to pursue it.

For the moment, she planned to enjoy the time with her brother and sister-in-law, content to bask in their happiness.

As she walked back inside, the house seemed to welcome her, its walls warmed by the love that flourished within. She hoped that somewhere beyond the horizon, a new chapter in her life waited to be written.