The greenhouse had been a passion of Ethan's mother. He kept it after her death in honor of her memory but hardly visited the glass building. It was maintained by the gardeners and Ethan was told, supplied the manors vegetables, fruits, and flowers in the winter. Not that he had ever particularly cared for any of these things but now on the eve of Emma's departure he was glad he hadn't left it to disrepair.

Emma looked stunning when she entered through the doors that opened onto a table set for two. The air smelled both earthy and sweet at the same time. There were pots of flowers and leafy plants and plots that grew vegetables: potatoes, turnips, peppers and so forth. Above their heads the ceiling reflected the night sky.

The table was lit by a candelabrum. It was the only source of light. Ethan was seated when she arrived and stood when she approached.

"You look lovely," he said admiring the glove-like fit of her gown, the curls and twist her hair had been tamed to form, no doubt Eleanor's handiwork, and the red satin slippers on her feet.

Emma smiled, "As do you."

Ethan was wearing form fitting navy breeches, a white shirt and matching coat.

Once they were seated, he poured the wine.

"I thought it would be better if we were not interrupted by the servants." he explained as if she had asked why he was serving them.

"Yes, I'd prefer that." Emma agreed.

Ethan raised his glass and Emma copied him.

"To a safe journey and many years of friendship." he declared.

"And to good health." Emma added.

Ethan smiled, "You would say that."

"Of course! I'm a nurse." Not that Ethan needed the reminder.

They clinked glasses.

"Ethan this greenhouse is remarkable. How have I never seen it before?" Emma remarked surprised.

He shrugged, "It was never my passion, my mother had it built. I simply kept it tended."

"I wish I had known her." Emma said wistfully.

"She would have liked you," Ethan assured her. "Now let's eat."

Ethan removed the silver dome coverings over their plates revealing fish and chips. Each plate held a dish of tartar sauce and a side of mushy peas.

Emma gasped.

"I thought you'd like something to remind you of home before you left." Ethan explained.

Emma had told him during one of their many conversations in the library and over supper that her favorite thing to eat in Brighton was a good meal of fish and chips she would buy down near the water.

"I can't remember the last time I had fish and chips! Thank you, Ethan! Is that what you were discussing with Mrs. Dandridge?" Emma inquired.

Ethan nodded.

"You truly are a wonderful man!" Emma picked up her fork.

Ethan was pleased by her response, and they continued the meal in good spirits. Toward the end Emma became quiet.

"What is it?" Ethan asked. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Emma shook her head and laid her napkin on the table.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking how much I'll miss spending my evenings with you." He could see tears forming in her eyes.

"I cannot express with words how much your absence will cause a hole in my heart. I've lost many people in my life but none that have affected me the way you do Emma. I will always be with you." he devotedly promised.

Now Emma used her napkin to dab at her eyes.

"Which is why I wanted to give you this."

From his pocket he removed a red velvet pouch that he handed to Emma.

"What is this?" she asked curiously, taking it from him.

"Open it and you'll see."

Emma carefully loosened the ties and turned the pouch over; a gold locket fell into her palm. It was round with an engraved E on the front and on the back an inscription was written: In a thousand years our lives will be done but our tender love will never end.

"The E can stand for Ethan or Emma." Ethan pointed out.

"It's beautiful Ethan. What you wrote – The tears spilled over her lashes now.

Ethan scooted his chair closer and put an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"It's true what I said Emma. I will love you forever."

He began slowly kissing her tears away.

"You're such a good man," Emma declared, "I hate the world doesn't know."

"You know. That's enough for me. Now open the locket." he instructed gently.

With trembling fingers Emma undid the clasp. Inside on the right was a miniature painting of Ethan and on the left was one of Daisy.

"Oh, oh Ethan, I love it!" Emma pulled the locket close and held it against her heart.

"Now you can keep us both close." he murmured.

"But who did these paintings?" Emma asked, "Their exquisite." she praised.

Ethan smiled, "Reggie."

"Truly? I knew he was talented, but this is incredible work."

"I agree. I find it hard to believe a man willing to paint this could have been involved in a plot to have me murdered."

Emma sobered at these words. "I do not like leaving without having determined what happened that day and who was responsible."

"I will be safe." he assured her.

"I'm not so sure about that." Emma quipped.

"Let's not ruin the evening with talk of murder and plots. Here I'll help you with this." Ethan closed the locket and attached it around her neck. "It looks perfect!"

Emma looked down to where the locket rested just above her breasts.

"It stands for Ethan." she whispered.

"I was hoping you were going to say that." he admitted kissing her gently on the lips. "Now I have one last request."

"And what is that?" Emma asked.

Ethan stood up and extended his hand. "Dance with me."

Emma eyed his hand dubiously. "But you can't... your leg."

"I'm not asking you to dance the Scottish Jig. I'm sure we can manage a simple waltz."

Emma hesitated.

"Emma please, we've never danced together." he was quick to point out.

"That's because you had a broken leg!" she reminded him.

"And now thanks to your ministrations and dedication I can walk, and I assure you I can dance."

Emma sighed. "Fine. But just a short one."

"That's all I ask."

Emma took his hand and stood up.

He swept her away from the table to a large space in the middle of the room that Ethan had had cleared earlier for this specific purpose.

"There's no music," Emma pointed out.

"I wouldn't forget that."

And then the strains of The Blue Danube waltz reached their ears. Emma turned and saw Huxley near the doors playing the violin.

"He's quite good." Emma said.

"Yes, Huxley is a man of many talents." Ethan agreed as he swept her about the floor.

"I do love this song." Emma declared.

"I assumed you would."

Despite the injury to his leg Ethan was able to dance quite proficiently. There was something about holding Emma in his arms that always seemed to calm him. Her weight, her warmth, her touch was like a balm, on his wounded heart. For so very long he'd holed himself up in this manor caring for nothing and no one. And yet despite this Huxley had seen to his recovery. For he was the only one who remembered what Ethan had been like as a boy, sweet and carefree, before his parents died, and his world collapsed. Huxley never forgot the good that existed in Ethan, the good he allowed Emma to see.

When the song ended, Ethan motioned to Huxley, and he left the greenhouse.

Emma remained in Ethan's arms.

"I'll remember this night, always." she vowed.

"As will I."

"Come to my room with me?" Emma asked.

Ethan nodded.

The manor was silent as they made their way upstairs, Ethan as usual leaning on his cane for support. Once inside Emma's rooms she crossed to her vanity and removed a letter from one of the drawers.

"Please read this after I'm gone," Emma advised.

Ethan took the proffered envelope.

"Promise?"

"I promise," Ethan said.

"I need time to change, come back in an hour?" Emma asked.

"I'll be here."

Ethan turned to leave.

"Ethan?" Emma called to his back.

He stopped at the door and turned around.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for loving me."

"Always, my dear, always."