Clive Rosfield

[ If their lives had gone according to plan (certainly not their own plan, but his father's, perhaps) then the pair of them would be living in Rosalith, in quarters prepared for the Marquess and his lady and the children that would have eventually followed. Would he have been allowed to marry Jill at all? Or would Anabella have seen that such an arrangement would bring him happiness and robbed him of that, too?

Either way, it isn't worth dwelling on. His mother is no longer an obstacle or a threat to either of them, and while Clive would never have put her to the sword himself, he is not sorry that she's gone.

Banishing his unpleasant thoughts, he brings Jill's hand to his lips and kisses her fingers tenderly before giving them a squeeze as they step out into the pleasant morning. He will swipe their lunch bag from her when she least expects it, but he leaves it be for now. ]

I like the sound of a garden. We can build beds for flowers all around, so that you you will never be short of materials when I need a new garland.

[ He grins down at her, feeling lighter than he has in... well, twenty years, easily. ]

We don't need a huge place. I'd prefer a cozy home with spacious grounds, myself.