/ don't really know. I don't know if it matters. All that matters is that Jane and I have each other, and the children. She is a different woman from the headstrong, scared, and selfish little creature I had the good fortune to fall in love with. She was profoundly transformed that night, convinced that a merciful God sent an angel in the form of a plump little serving girl to help her see her life. What it was meant to be. What it could be.

Thus, my darling, headstrong, romantic girl has taken it upon herself to single-handedly rescue any unfortunate member of my family. She says that as she has none, this gives her something to do. Just this morning, we arranged for some cousins from the North to come live with us…

Amelia stopped reading, her question answered. Hugh had been spared, but she hadn't known why. Now she did. In saving Jane's life, she had put an extraordinary chain of events into action, all of them good.

Why had she assumed it was a bad thing, to try and change the past? Why had every novel she'd ever read assumed that fact? She turned several of the journal's pages, enjoying the feel of the paper, studying Jonathan's bold handwriting, until another phrase caught her eye.

Thus we were taught the ultimate lesson. That faith, if shared, creates faith. That hope, if encouraged, creates hope. And that love, once given, creates an infinite form of that emotion, so that no one need ever want for it.

How true. There were only a few paragraphs left, and Amelia scanned them quickly.

My only regret in this life is that I never had a chance to thank Emma. I did so for her part in bringing my Jane safely home, but she died before I had a chance to tell her how thankful I was she fought Jane's misguided will and kept her alive.

Had I but one wish, it would be to have the chance to thank her. To let her know what she meant to me, what her actions meant to my family. I take lilies from the garden to her grave each Sunday. My way of doing penance, I suppose…

Here the journal ended.

Amelia closed the book. Gathering up her robe and slippers, she knew there was one more thing she had to do before she and Hugh left on their honeymoon in the morning.

She picked up her small going-away bouquet and smiled at Penny's choices. Red roses for love. Rosemary for faithfulness. Hyacinth for constancy and bachelor's button for hope. All qualities that brought Emma to mind.

Outside, the spring air was gentle and cool. So unlike that cold, rainy night when she and Jane had escaped to the carriage. She walked steadily toward the graveyard.

Hugh had pointed it out to her, but she'd never wanted to see it before now. Graves and their occupants had always left her with a rather creepy feeling, and she'd wanted nothing to do with them.

She wasn't afraid anymore. She'd been in much darker places.

Once inside the gated property, she turned on the flashlight and started studying the headstones and their inscriptions. She would've guessed Emma was buried on the outskirts, but wasn't surprised when she found the headstone toward the center of the family plot.

"Emma," she whispered, sinking to her knees. She placed the small bouquet on the grave. The inscription below the single name was brief, A LOVING WOMAN, A NOBLE SERVANT WITH THE HEART OF A LION. MAY SHE FIND PEACE.

"Emma," she whispered again, then touched the moss-covered stone. She knelt silently for a while, enjoying the feel of the night air, and somehow knowing that Emma and Jane and even Jonathan were close by. Would always be close to the house in spirit. Would possibly even choose to come back, through their children.

She began to speak, the words clumsy and halting, though they came from her heart.

"Emma, I wanted to thank you, for… showing me what I had, and what I might have run from. I could've thrown it all away, I was so frightened. Until you showed me what it meant to step outside yourself and truly love another person."

She paused. Amazing, how right it felt to talk to a dead person, buried beneath the ground.

"I'll come and see you when I get back. I'll bring you flowers. And I want you to know, Emma, what you meant to Jonathan, and to Jane. And especially to me."

She wiped away the tears gathering in her eyes.

"You won't be forgotten. I won't let that happen. John and I will gather up all the papers, the family history, and write a book about the history of this house. You'll be prominently mentioned-"

She laughed then, and the sound carried on the night wind. How funny. The type of person Emma had been, she wouldn't have given a fig about being included in a family history. But Amelia didn't want the little maid to be forgotten.

"I'll always consider you a member of my family. I'm going to name my firstborn daughter after you. And your memory will always live on in my heart."

She stood, then remained silent for a few more moments until she sensed another's presence. She turned and saw Annie, in a dark cloak, standing to the side.

"Annie. I didn't see you at my wedding."

"You went back, didn't you?"

She saw no reason to lie.

"Yes."

"And had the courage to change it. Thank God."

"Yes."

"My mother had the sight. She told me, before she died, that a woman would come to this house and set things right. The day you came, that night I had a dream. I knew it would happen, but I was scared for you. That you might not have the courage to change things. That you might get stuck back there, and die."

"So I did go back."

"You know you did."

Amelia nodded. "And everything is finished now?"

Annie smiled. "Lindsey House casts a strange spell over people. There are more writings that will be found. Perhaps by you, perhaps by your children. They might open up the way for others to do what you've done. I don't know. I only know that my work here is finished."

"I'd like you to stay. To remain in service here. To take care of the children."

"Will you tell your husband?"

"I don't like keeping secrets from him."

"But some things… we have to find on our own."

She nodded her head. "You think I should keep this to myself."

"Yes."

"Would you stay if I asked you to? So that I might have someone to talk to?"

Annie hesitated, and Amelia could sense the conflict within the girl.

"For now, I can't. But I can promise you, should you ever need me, I'll come back."

It had to be enough. "Thank you."

The girl suddenly grinned. "Get back to that husband of yours and keep him warm."

"Oh, I intend to."

She stood in the cottage's small bedroom and watched Hugh sleep. The love she felt for him overwhelmed her, and she thought of all their marriage would entail.

She would do her best to be a good wife. To help him, comfort him, love him. To stand by him, no matter what life might send their way.

The flowers in the bedroom filled the air with their sweet scent. Amelia closed her eyes and thought of her wedding, remembering each moment, treasuring it, knowing it might never have occurred.

She would save those memories. Penny would have a duplicate bridal bouquet waiting for her when she and Hugh returned to Lindsey House from their honeymoon. Amelia wanted to press the flowers, put them in their wedding album along with the satin ribbon. She wanted to create several pressed flower frames for the wedding pictures that would soon join the others on the walls of Lindsey House.

She would take one bloom and put it, pressed, inside the locket Hugh had given her with their wedding date engraved inside.

She would travel through time with those memories, and when this life came to an end, she would pass those memories on to their children. And suddenly she didn't want to wait for a baby. If she could have held their firstborn in her arms this minute, she would've wished for it.