Epilogue #2
Swallowing a snort, Thalia pinched her husband’s waist; he was being naughty again.
Indeed, over the past year, she had come to know his mischievous, playful side very well indeed.
Adored it, in truth, but if Gibbs thought he was being mocked, there would be an argument, and there were too many people watching to risk such a thing.
“Yes, thank you,” Gibbs said stiffly. “It is a… perfectly good ball, I am sure. I have already seen several gentlemen that will be suitable for Dorothy.”
Panic flickered in Dorothy’s eyes, as she turned to Thalia.
“This way, Dorothy,” Gibbs commanded, walking off without bothering to see if anyone was following.
“He will hand me over to the first gentleman who asks for me!” Dorothy hissed, once Gibbs had wandered far enough away.
Thalia shook her head. “No, dearest girl, he will not. You have us: me, Henry, Kenneth. We will not let that happen,” she promised.
“All you have to concentrate on is having the most fun possible, and if you should find love this Season—excellent. If not, that is also excellent. You never have to care about Father’s opinion again, because you have a safe haven here. ”
Kenneth nodded. “He will not do to you what he did to Thalia.”
“You get to choose, Dorothy,” Thalia agreed. “No one is going to marry you off to a stranger.”
Henry’s hand tightened on her waist, as he murmured close to her ear. “And what, pray tell, is wrong with marrying a stranger?”
Swallowing a bashful giggle, putting on a serious face for her sister’s benefit. “I mean it, go and enjoy yourself. If Father bothers you, summon any one of us and we shall contend with him.”
“You swear it?” Dorothy said, biting her lip.
“I do,” Thalia said.
“As do I.” Kenneth nodded, offering his arm to his little sister.
And not a moment too soon for, just then, someone in the ballroom shouted out for the first dance of the night.
Considering this was the first proper ball that Thalia had organized as Duchess of Holdridge, not counting dinner parties and tea parties and garden parties, she was expected to be on the dance floor with her husband.
“I believe we have been called to arms,” Henry said with a grin, as he took Thalia by the hand and led her down the hall to the ballroom, Kenneth and Dorothy following close behind.
Soon enough, they were standing opposite one another on the dance floor, in position as the lead couple. The Duke and Duchess of Holdridge: a love story that society had been gushing about all year.
“A country dance!” Henry called to the orchestra, who immediately launched into a merry tune.
Casting him a mock-withering look, for she was forever losing her footing during such dances, the whirlwind began: a complicated pattern of circles and hops and box steps and promenades and changing partners then changing back that never failed to leave Thalia dizzy.
But one look at Dorothy, dancing so elegantly, so perfectly, and it was all worth it. The beautiful young debutante would assuredly have no trouble winning the hearts of society’s gentlemen; Thalia just hoped there was a gentleman out there who was worthy of winning Dorothy’s heart in return.
“What is that smile for?” Henry asked, as they came together, palm to palm, turning in a circle.
Thalia laughed. “Many reasons.”
“Am I one of them?”
“Perhaps.”
It seemed strange that, just a year ago, none of this would have been possible. It was stranger still that she felt she ought to thank the wickedness of an ambitious man for the love that now filled her heart so completely.
In trying to harm her, James Brooks had brought Thalia and Henry closer than either could have imagined.
His twisted scheme had allowed love in, had allowed Thalia and Henry to realize that what they wanted had been right in front of them the entire time, had made it so they were never separated again.
Not for longer than a week or so, anyway.
As for James himself, he had been exiled from the country, stripped of his title.
Last Thalia had heard, he was residing somewhere in Spain with Frances, while his wife and son had returned to her family home and, apparently, wanted nothing to do with him.
Excommunicated entirely for his evil deeds.
“You went away somewhere,” Henry said, as he twirled Thalia.
When he pulled her back toward him, Thalia smiled. “I was just thinking of the future.”
“What does it look like, time-traveler?” he teased, taking her hands as they began a promenade across the dance floor.
Thalia’s heart jumped. “We are walking by the lake, and it is a beautiful winter’s day.
There is snow on the ground and the lake is frozen, which is very confusing for the ducks.
” She paused, nerves jittering. “And our child is laughing and pointing at the poor birds as the slide hither and thither.”
Henry stopped, turning her to face him. “What?”
The other dancers, bewildered, moved around the lead couple as the music played on. Although, out of the corner of her eye, Thalia saw the musicians whispering to each other, as if trying to decide if they should stop too.
“Or perhaps it is summer, a few years from now,” she said, her eyes pricking with happy tears. “And we are having a picnic, and you are teaching our child to swim for the first time, while I fret on the shore, unable to read a word of my book in peace.”
Henry’s eyes widened. “Are you…?”
She nodded slowly. “Dr. Farnaby confirmed it a few days ago. I begged him not to tell you, but it has been so hard to keep the secret.”
“But… how?”
Thalia reddened, stifling a laugh. “A wish, a miracle, I do not know.”
“You are carrying our child?” He blinked, as if he would need it repeating a hundred times before he believed it.
She beamed, nodding again. “I am.”
Without warning, Henry swept her up into his arms and pulled her close, his lips finding hers in a slow and passionate kiss.
After half a second of panic that everyone was watching, Thalia could not help but kiss him back, melting into his embrace as the rest of the ballroom vanished.
The guests could gossip all they liked, for the overjoyed couple had each other…
and soon, they would have a child, fulfilling a wish made long ago by a lonely woman with an empty heart.
A woman who now had everything she had ever wanted and so much more, her heart full to bursting, loneliness a thing of the past.
“I love you,” Henry whispered thickly, pausing for a moment.
She reached up and held his face, enchanted by the happy shine of his eyes. “As I love you.”
“A miracle,” he murmured, as he twirled her back into the end of the dance.
“A miracle,” she confirmed, wondering how it was possible that every day of their marriage could be even better than the last. And thanking the heavens for making one mother’s wish come true, so that she might one day pass the same wish to her own children.
A legacy far greater than any fortune or title, for this was a legacy of love.
The End?