Epilogue
“The draping goes the other way!”
the countess explained, fussing with the shawl. It, and several of its compatriots, were spread out underneath the array of life jackets to “bring a little color into everything,”
the countess had explained.
Lucian and Diantha just exchanged glances, laughed, and acquiesced.
They’d only had a few months to plan for the Exhibition presentation as well as plan a wedding, their future, and how to dissuade Drusilla from taking Lady Meow-Meow with her when she debuted.
Since it was Diantha, the planning went well, all except for that last item.
“My lady,”
Davy said to the countess, “would you be a model once they open the doors?”
“You want me to display the life jacket?”
she asked.
“If it’s not an imposition,”
Davy said hastily, his eyes wide.
“I would love to!”
the countess replied. “It isn’t every day I get to show something produced by my brilliant daughter.”
She looked over at Diantha and beamed. “And my charming son-in-law.”
The duke had relented enough to attend the wedding, though he had studiously avoided Drusilla and uttered only the briefest of congratulations to his son. John and his wife came down from Scotland, and Lucian was surprised to discover he and John had plenty to talk about, once they realized both of them were never going to satisfy the duke.
John was able to advise Lucian on business. Lucian had accepted a role at Shammie’s family’s shipping company, but he was also helping with the factory work. Diantha and Drusilla were still the main people in charge there, but Lucian was brought along when they needed the gravitas of a duke’s second son.
At which times he would also mention how he left all the decisions to his wife, who knew far more about everything than he did.
In addition to displaying the life jackets, which Her Majesty’s Navy had already signed a contract for, they were showing some of the items that they’d be producing in future months, once the initial spate of life jackets were complete.
Cards to be sent during Christmas—a holiday Prince Albert had made more prominent through his importation of German customs—were next in the queue. Mail was getting easier to send, so Diantha and Drusilla reasoned that there should be pleasant mail sent and received as opposed to just bills or boring letters.
Then there were the gadgets used to open cans, much better than the old method of prying the top off with a chisel and hammer.
Diantha and Drusilla had only one question in mind as they reviewed what could be produced: Will this object make people’s lives better?
While they were still arguing about the potential altruism in making taxidermied anthropomorphic animals, they did agree that their lives were much improved.
“Diantha, do you want the life jacket here or here?”
Drusilla asked, placing the item in various positions on the shawls.
“I think there, if you please,”
Diantha said.
They all turned when they heard a voice shouting from several yards away. “The doors will open in five minutes! Please be prepared.”
Diantha, Lucian, and Drusilla nodded toward one another as the countess donned the life jacket, Davy adjusting the straps for her. Drusilla joined them, leaving Diantha and Lucian alone.
“You don’t regret it? Any of it?”
he asked, knowing the answer.
Diantha’s eyebrow rose. “Well, I do regret the shawls, but I can’t loathe them entirely—they brought us together, after all.”
He gave her a haughty look. “I believe it was my excellent kissing skills,”
he said, demonstrating quickly, so no one would see.
“And I think it was my inability to cleanse my system, so I believe we will have to agree to disagree.”
“Speaking of which,”
he said, a mischievous look in his eye, “shall we system-cleanse tonight?”
“My lord,”
she said, drawing back in feigned shock, “does this mean you have access to a sarcophagus?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of our bed, but if it pleases you to have a sarcophagus . . .”
“Maybe you can get me one for our twentieth anniversary,”
she replied. “Just to remind us where we started, and where we ended up.”
“In each other’s arms,”
he said, his eyes locked with hers.
“Forever,”
she murmured.