Epilogue
EPILOGUE
S tephen jumped to his feet as soon as they entered the room. Annabelle only had a fraction of a second to perceive that he had been sitting with his head in his hands, Duchess Sarah at his shoulder talking to him earnestly. She even felt a twinge of sympathy for her older brother although it was expunged almost as soon as he opened his mouth.
“Annabelle! Dear God, what on earth came over you this morning? I do not know how we will explain all this. You must come home with me at once.”
“Stephen,” said Duchess Sarah softly but in warning, shaking her head sadly in the vain hope of warding off an an outburst she had presumably already warned against.
“I am not coming back to Colborne House. I am staying here, Stephen,” Annabelle stated calmly. “There is no need for your worry. I am quite safe here with Frederick.”
“But Annabelle, you were to marry Lord Darrington and now the word is all over the ton that you have left him at the altar and run away with the Duke of Heartwick. It is a true scandal. What am I to write to Mother and Father?”
“You must write to them as you think best,” Annabelle sighed. “Everything you say is true enough, although I do not think Lord Darrington will hold my actions against me. Frederick and I will be married directly. You may tell our parents that if you wish, or I shall write myself.”
“Annabelle, please listen to me. You do not know what a man like Duke Frederick can be. You do not understand how easily he could dishonor you and cast you aside. If necessary, I shall go to the courts and…”
Stephen tried to cross the room as he pleaded with her but Frederick blocked his way, scowling.
“A man like me, Stephen? Are you implying that I intend to dishonor Annabelle? As far as I am concerned, your sister is already my wife, and the marriage ceremony will only make that official.”
“Good Lord! How dare you? You seem to think you are God himself, Frederick,” Stephen retorted, confronting the Duke of Heartwick in turn. “Listen to yourself. If Annabelle remains here, everyone will assume the worst. Half of them already do after your display at the church this afternoon.”
“Annabelle will remain here with me,” Frederick said implacably. “You cannot take her from me against her will.”
“How can you even be sure he intends to marry you?” Stephen now threw desperately at Annabelle. “A rake might only toy with women as long as they hold his attention. You have no idea how close you are to ruin!”
Frederick’s face grew thunderous at this remark, his fists clenching at his sides. Annabelle understood with alarm how deeply each of these men felt their own peculiar sense of honor.
“Do you impugn my word, Lord Emberly?” the Duke of Heartwick snapped. “If so, I must demand that…”
“Stephen, Frederick,” Duchess Sarah interrupted before the situation could escalate, casting admonishing glances at both men as she came to stand in the middle of the room between them. “Both of you, please sit down.”
They obeyed reluctantly, Annabelle remaining at Frederick’s side and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She was not going anywhere, whatever Stephen or Duchess Sarah might have to say next.
“Frederick loves Annabelle and intends to make her his wife as soon as possible,” the older woman stated, looking from one man to the other, daring either to deny her assertions. “Stephen also has very natural concerns over his family’s honor which Frederick would be wise to address rather than starting an unnecessary fight.”
“Yes,” Frederick answered first, placing his hand over Annabelle’s on his shoulder. “I do love Annabelle and we shall we married as soon as it can be arranged. I have already applied for the license.”
Stephen however, could not speak so temperately yet.
“I believe that Frederick deliberately misled us at his agents’ offices in London, in order that he might bring Annabelle here under false pretenses. Without Duchess Sarah’s insight, I might easily now be on the road to Dover or humiliating myself at the Pulteney Hotel due to your man’s misdirection.”
“Stephen!” Duchess Sarah said again, more sharply this time but Stephen could not restrain himself and rose once more to his feet.
“I respect your view, Duchess Sarah, but I cannot possibly stay silent while a known rake is conspiring against my sister’s innocence, even if he is your stepson. What kind of man would that make me?”
“There is no conspiracy,” Annabelle spoke up then, realizing that she was the only one who might end this fruitless clash. “I told Frederick to bring me here, Stephen, exactly because I did not wish to return to Colborne House with you. He did so because he loves me. Frederick has only ever done what I wanted him to do. I shall be his wife in law too soon enough.”
“What you wanted him to do?” Stephen questioned in bewilderment and outrage. “Good God, Annabelle! What are you saying?!”
“I am saying that Frederick is my husband in all but the final formality and I shall not be leaving Heartwick Hall.”
“Frederick!” Annabelle heard Duchess Sarah say with deep concern somewhere in the background. “This is truly reckless. How could you?”
“Be still, Stepmother,” Frederick answered firmly. “All is in hand if you would but trust us.”
Annabelle’s attention, however, was more focused on the fall of Stephen’s face as he took in the ramifications of what she had said to him, and all that she had implied. Would this finally make him understand that she was not coming back? It was a harsh message but a necessary one.
It was then that the sound of a carriage on the path drew the attention of everyone in the room. Frederick leapt up and pulled aside a lace curtain.
“Geraldson!” he exclaimed, smiling at Annabelle. “With two guests.”
“Father Gerard Mallford, and Mr. Robert Goodinson, parish clerk for Heartwick and Cleriford,” Geraldson introduced the two two gentlemen to the room at Duke Frederick’s request. “I’ll let the gentlemen themselves explain why they are here.”
The two ladies sat together on the sofa. Duchess Sarah had patted Annabelle’s hand although the older woman’s face remained strained, clearly shaken by how far Annabelle and Frederick had been prepared to go against society’s rules. At the mantelpiece, Stephen paced ceaselessly, his orderly mind at its limit with the surprises of the day.
The minister stepped forward first, giving a small bow to the room and then subtly scrutinizing its occupants as he rose again.
“Gerard Mallford, assistant and friend to John Randolph, Bishop of London,” said the urbane and rotund cleric with a bow. “While all requirements for a marriage license were met, and your man Geraldson here was most persistent in tracking down Bishop Randolph in his bath…”
Here, Geraldson coughed and busied himself with his pipe while Stephen looked freshly scandalized and Frederick smothered a grin.
“…I have been sent personally to investigate the circumstances of this proposed marriage before I hand over the license, given that the lady named is already the subject of another marriage license, with the wedding supposed to take place in London this very day. Bigamy, as you know, is a serious offense under English law.”
“No marriage took place this morning,” Annabelle stated immediately. “Everyone here can attest that fact.”
“You are Lady Annabelle Elkins?” asked Gerard Mallford with interest.
“I am,” Annabelle confirmed, “and I did not marry this morning.”
“Soon to be Duchess of Heartwick,” Frederick added. “The ceremony did not take place this morning.”
The cleric looked expectantly at the others in the room and Duchess Sarah nodded agreement with her stepson.
“No marriage took place this morning,” confirmed Stephen gloomily. “I am Lord Emberly, son of the Duke and Duchess of Colborne, and I can confirm that my sister here is… still a spinster.”
“I also understand that both parties are of age?” continued Father Mallford, checking off the formalities.
“Only just,” said Stephen grudgingly and then sighed, perhaps beginning to accept that he must make the best of the situation. “Yes, Annabelle is one-and-twenty and supposedly of sound mind, although we have not yet even had the chance to discuss a wedding contract…”
“You can have whatever contract you and Annabelle can agree on, Stephen,” Frederick broke in. “I will sign whatever my wife wishes, but the wedding itself shall not be delayed.”
“Duke Frederick is thirty years,” confirmed Duchess Sarah, interrupting in her turn before Stephen and Frederick could wrangle, “and of sound mind, if impetuous spirit.”
“Very well,” said Mallford, now producing a sheet of paper from his satchel and holding it out to Frederick. “In that case, here is your license to marry in your local parish as soon as can be arranged.”
“Excellent!” Duke Frederick responded, taking the paper and then shaking the cleric’s hand warmly “Do pass my thanks to Bishop Randolph. You must stay to dinner now that you are here. In fact, why don’t you stay and attend our wedding? It will be a small affair after all the chaos we have wrought today, no doubt, but…”
The second man now coughed, shaking his head and stopping this congratulatory conversation.
“Matters are not so simple, Your Grace, begging your pardon. I’m Mr. Robert Goodinson, parish clerk for Heartwick and Cleriford. Mr. Geraldson thought I should come here. Reverend Lewis was unfortunately called away yesterday to attend his aged mother in Scotland. We do not expect him back for at least a month, perhaps two months. I don’t yet know whether we will have any cover until he returns.”
“A month or two?” said Annabelle with dismay. “We cannot wait so long, can we?”
She looked at Frederick with genuine alarm, having no idea how likely it was that she might be child after their union today or how long it would take for this to become obvious to the world. Across the sofa, Duchess Sarah took her hand and squeezed it silently.
“Well, what about Lady Annabelle’s parish?” asked Gerard Mallford reasonably, without any apparent judgement on the case. “They could marry there easily enough, could they not, Lord Emberly?”
“Yes, I suppose I could speak to our rector,” said Stephen in rather a jaundiced tone. “Although after today’s fiasco, I have no idea what view he might take of our family and its matrimonial intentions.”
The Bishop of London’s assistant swallowed a sigh, and then smiled, sharing a curious look of confidence with Geraldson over by the door.
“Well, as I am here, and satisfied as to the bona fides of both parties, I see no reason why I should not conduct the marriage ceremony in Reverend Lewis’s absence, as long as Robert Goodinson here can make the necessary records in the parish register. Would that be convenient for you, Mr. Goodinson?”
“Certainly, Father Mallford. With Reverend Lewis’s departure, all other use of the church has been cancelled.”
“Today?” Frederick asked both men hopefully, coming over to the sofa and extending a hand to draw Annabelle up beside him.
“Well, as your man Geraldson insisted that I should bring vestments and anything else required for a wedding ceremony, just in case, I could certainly do that,” confirmed the cleric. “Otherwise, I have the feeling that Duke Frederick will be riding off to obtain a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, whom I can already tell you now is in Bath for his health.”
“Well then,” Frederick laughed joyously. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I invite you to our wedding at Heartwick and Cleriford parish church, as soon as Father Mallford is suitable prepared? It will be followed by a celebratory meal here at Heartwick Manor, including a table for our staff.”
“Good God!” Stephen exclaimed, dazed by the too rapid progression of events over the last ten minutes. “Now there is another wedding?!”
Duchess Sarah stood and kissed Annabelle on both cheeks.
“Thank God,” she said sincerely, speaking quietly into Annabelle’s ear. “I have been out of my mind with worry for you both since the first day I learned you were here alone with Frederick. You have sailed close to the wind but come safely into harbor at last.”
As the party moved to the hallway to don coats and hats, the sound of footsteps sounded on the gravel outside. Frederick broke from briefing poor bewildered Witmore on organizing an impromptu wedding celebration that evening to look at Annabelle in puzzlement.
“Is anyone home? Or is Heartwick Hall entirely fortified against foreign invaders?” called out Oswald Quince’s voice on the other side of the front door. “We’ve left our carriage at the front gate and walked all the way up the drive. We come in peace, even though Captain Rawlings is a soldier and Lady Meredith can be very vicious with a pall-mall mallet!”
At a nod from Frederick, Witmore opened the door and let Lord Darrington, his sister and Captain Rawlings into the hallway.
“Oh good, no one has a black eye,” Oswald remarked, looking around the assembly in the hallway and then grinning at Annabelle. “Is all well with you, my non-wife?”
Annabelle leaned into Frederick’s arms and smiled back, noticing Father Mallford’s twinkling eyes on all of them. He did not seem in the least bit surprised or put out to find her jilted fiancé turning up so merrily at the front door and she decided that she liked him.
“Very well. We’re actually about to get married, Oswald. Would you like to come to my wedding?”
“We love a good wedding,” he responded enthusiastically, linking arms with Lady Meredith and Captain Rawlings. “Don’t we?”
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together, in the sight of God, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…
Annabelle and Frederick smiled lovingly at one another as the service began in the small parish church of the Heartwick estate.
Aside from the bride and groom, and the stand-in minister, there were only a handful of ill-assorted guests in the pews. Duchess Sarah, Robert Goodinson and Geraldson the coachman sat on Frederick’s side of the church while Lord Darrington, Lady Meredith and Captain Rawlings kept Stephen company on the bride’s side.
Therefore if any can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace…
In the pause that followed there was only the sound of shifting weight on old oak pews, rustling clothing and the faint rushing of a breeze on the windows.
Neither the wedding attendees nor even the minister’s words were at the front of Annabelle’s mind at this moment, however. She was lost in the blue of Frederick’s eyes, the gold of his hair and the memory of the pleasurable weight of his naked body on hers in his bedroom, gazes locked and instincts seemingly synchronized. How many hours would it be before they were alone again?
At the altar a few moments later, Father Mallford, coughed politely and Annabelle realized that they had been gazing so intently into one another’s eyes that one or another of them had forgotten to respond to him.
Frederick murmured a quiet apology and the minister repeated himself.
"Wilt thou, Frederick Lancaster Clemence Hayward, Duke of Heartwick, have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Frederick confirmed very certainly at the second time of asking.
“Wilt thou, Annabelle Eleanor Elkins have this man…”
Annabelle was nodding before the question had even concluded, wanting Frederick to know that she had no hesitation at all in accepting him, loving him and wanting him.
Unlike the more formal event earlier that morning, the ceremony proceeded as normal without interruption. Still, Annabelle felt as though she were hearing every word for the first time now that they were directed at her, and at Frederick.
“With this Ring I thee wed,” Frederick vowed to her, “with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
As he spoke these words, her new husband slid a ring onto her finger, a silver band set with sapphire, matching the necklace she already wore. Now Annabelle knew what Frederick had raced into the study for at the last moment before they left the house, his mother’s remaining jewels evidently being kept in the large safe there.
“Forasmuch asFrederickandAnnabelle have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
At the altar, Frederick embraced Annabelle wholeheartedly if briefly, with both passion and tenderness, before they followed the minister and parish clerk into a small room to sign the register, with Duchess Sarah and Lord Emberly as witnesses.
When they emerged from the church doors, Annabelle and Frederick were surprised to be met with a flurry of rice and rose petals from Oswald, Jacob and Meredith in the porch.
“Where did you manage to get those?” Annabelle laughed as she brushed the small decorations from her face. “Or do you always carry them, just in case of a surprise wedding?”
“Meredith had the presence of mind to acquire them from various elderly ladies after this morning’s aborted ceremony,” Oswald confided. “She told them she would be attending another wedding soon and they would be put to good use.”
“How prescient of you,” Frederick commented to Oswald’s sister.
“Not really,” she responded with amusement. “You see, Jacob and I had just decided that we should marry, and obviously we don’t want to go to any great fuss, in the circumstances.”
After a moment’s surprise, Annabelle and Frederick both laughed and offered their congratulations, understanding that this was just a marriage of convenience of another kind.
“It seemed the best way round to do things, in the end,” Oswald whispered to Annabelle as he embraced her in congratulation. “They will make a home at Darrington Hall and we three shall be together always. I’m happy things have worked out for you with Duke Frederick in the end.”
“I’m very happy for you too,” Annabelle said honestly. “Let us always be friends, Oswald.”
This news seemed to neatly tie up the past and leave the road to the future clear, with the present only there to be enjoyed. Only Stephen’s solemn face was at odds with the note of harmony and joy on which the day was ending.
“I hope you will understand one day,” Annabelle said to her brother gently, laying a hand on his arm while Frederick waited to hand her into their carriage. “I hope you will love someone as I love Frederick and see that I really could not have done anything else.”
Stephen frowned and held back whatever it was that he automatically wanted to say in response. He might be proud and wedded to convention but he was not cruel or unkind and he knew that he must accept events, regardless of his own discomfort.
“I hope you and Duke Frederick will be happy together,” he said sincerely. “The Duchy of Colborne’s lawyers will be in touch about the marriage contract, although the situation is peculiar. For your own sake, Annabelle, do take it seriously. It protects you if you are widowed, and the rights of your future children if you should predecease…”
“Later, Stephen,” Annabelle said and kissed him on the cheek. “I promise I will take it all very seriously on a day which is not my wedding day.”
Entering their open-top coach, the Duke and Duchess of Heartwick relaxed together on the rear seat in the last sunlight of the warm July day and let Geraldson drive them back towards their home.
The End?