Epilogue
Alistair leaned against the paneled wall just outside Lady Cosima’s bedchamber, his shoulders pressed into the wood as he waited.
The special license rested safely in his pocket, secured at first light after a restless night.
He was bursting to tell Jane the news. For once, fortune had not eluded him, and he was on the cusp of marrying the only woman who had ever truly seen him.
He had never thought himself worthy of such devotion. His past was a tangle of mistakes and shadows, yet Jane had given him her love without demand, without hesitation. That gift alone undid him.
“Why are you loitering outside of Lady Cosima’s bedchamber?” came Charlotte’s voice from farther down the hall.
Alistair turned his head to find his sister approaching, her brows arched in suspicion. “I am waiting for Jane.”
“Why is Jane in her aunt’s chamber?” she pressed.
He almost laughed. Clearly, Charlotte had slept through the entirety of last night’s chaos. He opened his mouth to explain, but the latch turned, and Jane stepped out into the corridor.
He straightened. “Good morning, Jane.”
Her answering smile was enough to undo every knot of tension in him. “Good morning, Alistair.”
From within, Lady Cosima’s voice carried out, curt and unimpressed. “Dear heavens, can we save all this lovey-dovey nonsense until I’ve had a cup of coffee?”
“You drink coffee?” Alistair asked before he thought better of it.
“You sound surprised,” Lady Cosima challenged, appearing just long enough to pin him with a look. “My husband drank it, and I suppose it reminds me of him.”
He inclined his head. “That is reason enough.”
“Glad to know I need an acceptable excuse for my choice in beverage,” she muttered before disappearing again.
Jane leaned subtly towards him, her hand half-raised to shield her mouth. “My aunt can be rather cantankerous until she has had her coffee.”
“I feel the same way about chocolate,” Charlotte chimed in. “Not that it matters.”
Jane laughed softly. “It does matter, Charlotte. How did you sleep?”
“I slept well,” Charlotte answered, narrowing her eyes at Alistair, “but I find myself more curious about why Alistair was lurking outside Lady Cosima’s chamber.”
Alistair’s lips curved. “Because I wished to be the first to tell Jane some news.” He paused for effect, savoring the moment. “I acquired the special license.”
Jane’s eyes widened with delight. “That is wonderful!”
“And,” he added, unable to contain his eagerness, “I spoke with a vicar at a nearby chapel. He has agreed to marry us after breakfast, assuming that is acceptable to you.”
“It is more than acceptable.” Jane’s smile nearly stopped his breath.
Charlotte gaped. “You two are engaged? And you didn’t tell me?”
“We are,” Alistair said, never taking his eyes from Jane.
“When did this happen?”
“Last night—after we captured Jules Leclerc.” He gave a small shrug. “It happened rather quickly.”
“Apparently,” Charlotte muttered.
He offered Jane his arm. “Shall we go down to breakfast before we depart?”
Jane’s eyes danced with amusement. “Only if it is a quick breakfast. I find that I am rather eager to marry you.”
He bent his head, his voice low. “The feeling is entirely mutual, my love.”
Lady Cosima’s voice carried after them. “I might need two cups of coffee to endure this level of mush.”
“Perhaps I should take up the habit,” Charlotte mused.
“You hate coffee,” Alistair reminded her.
“It is an acquired taste,” Cosima countered.
They had barely taken a few steps towards the stairs when a sharp pounding shook the front door. The butler hurried to open it, and the stern, disapproving figure of Lord Ketteridge strode into the entry hall.
Jane froze beside Alistair. “Father,” she acknowledged, moving stiffly down to the marble floor. “What are you doing here?”
“Why else?” he sneered. “I read about your engagement in the newssheets like everyone else.”
Jane’s brow furrowed. “You did?”
Lord Ketteridge’s eyes were hard. “Are you not engaged to Lord Alcott?” he demanded.
“I am,” Jane began, “but—”
He cut her off with a dismissive wave. “I am not even going to question why you reside here before marriage. It is none of my concern, at least, not anymore.”
Lady Cosima swept forward. “Not that it matters to you, but Jane’s life was in danger. I personally ensured she was properly chaperoned.”
“I’m sure you did,” Ketteridge scoffed. His gaze cut to Alistair. “Lord Alcott, a word.”
Jane clutched his arm tighter. “Why are you here?”
“About your dowry, of course,” he replied. “Why else would I be here?”
Jane’s voice trembled with contained fury. “Perhaps to offer congratulations on my upcoming nuptials.”
“Why would I do that? You could have been a duchess, and you settled for a viscount,” her father spat out.
Her chin lifted. “I settled for nothing. I love Alistair.”
Lord Ketteridge’s mouth twisted. “I hope you are happy with your choice.”
“I am,” Jane said firmly. “Thank you for reminding me just how little I mean to you, especially after you sent Adam to abduct me to force my hand.”
“You made your choice and there are consequences to your defiance,” her father responded.
Alistair slid his hand over hers. “For the record, I found her act of defiance to be brilliant.”
Ketteridge shook his head. “You two belong together.”
“Yes, we do,” Jane answered. “Goodbye, Father.”
She walked away with her head high, and Alistair’s heart swelled with admiration. Her father also watched her leave and muttered, “She is your problem now.”
Cosima rolled her eyes. “You are a jobbernowl,” she told her brother-in-law before sweeping Charlotte off towards the dining room.
Left behind, Alistair faced Ketteridge. “Well, what is it that you wish to speak about?”
“In private,” the man said tightly.
Alistair gestured towards the drawing room. Once inside, he closed the door, his stance unyielding. “Speak.”
Ketteridge’s sigh was heavy. “As you must know, Jane left us in dire financial straits when she refused the Duke of Brackenford. He is suing us for breach of contract.”
“I am well aware,” Alistair replied. “Considering your son abducted Jane to force her hand.”
The man shifted uncomfortably. “That was our last resort, and it failed.”
Alistair couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “That is all you have to say about it? No apology? No regret?”
“She would have been a duchess,” Ketteridge said flatly. “She should have thanked me, but instead she is marrying you. A mere viscount.”
His temper flared. “What do you want?”
“Jane’s dowry. It would keep our estate afloat.”
Alistair longed to deny him, to let him reap the ruin he had sown. But another thought sharpened in his mind. “Very well, but only on one condition. You agree to stay out of our lives, forever.”
“Done.”
Alistair stepped closer, lowering his voice with finality. “Jane’s life will be far happier without you in it.”
Ketteridge gave a bitter smile. “She has too much of her mother in her. I tried to beat it out of her, but she still shone through.”
Alistair’s jaw locked. “I think Jane is perfect, exactly as she is.”
The man’s glare faltered. “Are we done here?”
“We are.”
Without saying another word, Ketteridge stormed out, slamming the main door behind him.
Moments later, Jane appeared in the doorway, her expression tight. “What did he want?”
“He asked to keep your dowry.”
She drew a sharp breath. “And?”
“I agreed—if he stays out of our lives for good.”
Her shoulders eased, and she stepped closer. “That is more than fair.”
Reaching for her hand, he said, “I know how cruel your father has been. I will protect you from him, Jane.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
He pressed his forehead against hers. “I want every day with you. To laugh with you, to hold you, to carry you when you stumble. All of it, always.”
Her eyes shone with tears. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You don’t need to deserve me,” he said. “Just give me yourself—your truth, your flaws, your fears—and I will show you how perfectly our broken pieces fit.”
Her lips curved into a trembling smile. “That sounds perfect.”
“For me, perfection is you,” he murmured. “It always has been.”
Jane’s answering smile grew bolder, mischievous. “Perhaps we can skip breakfast and head straight to the chapel.”
He laughed, relief and joy coursing through him. “You will hear no complaint from me.”
The End