Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
The days went by so quickly. Three months felt like nothing. At Wolfcrest Hall, reality shifted and shadows faded away.
Who would even guess that those internal cobwebs could be swept away at all, with the kind of violence and sorrow that used to live in those halls?
The door between the master chambers remained open, although truly, husband and wife stayed in one bed anyway. Even when one was sick, the other preferred watching over the other in the same room.
Tonight, Daphne and Adrian hosted a private dinner. It wasn’t a glittering social event because neither of them thought fondly of extravaganzas and balls. Both had been unfairly maligned by the ton at some point or the other.
The guest list included family and friends, people dear to their hearts.
They valued those who had given them a chance: Daphne’s sisters and their husbands, their children, as well as Daniel, Victoria, and Caleb.
Mrs. Nicholson was ecstatic to be included together with her husband, Reverend Nicholson.
Finch, Wilhelmina’s publisher, was there, as well.
Everyone who had made the fairy tale possible was present.
Fairy tale?
Daphne did not believe what she and Adrian had could be called anything of the sort, but it felt nice to celebrate their love, just the same. She no longer thought of her life as ball gowns and pretty ribbons.
It was more than that. More real.
“Thank you, Your Graces, for inviting us!” squealed Mrs. Nicholson happily, her face red.
“Why shouldn’t we?” the Duke asked. “Without your cottage being made available to Daphne, I would not have met her.”
“Oh, dear. Yes, that is true and so fortunate. You two are such a lovely pair!”
“We are, indeed, honored that you trusted us and used our humble abode as a hiding place,” the Reverend said solemnly. “But somehow, the late earl still managed to find you there when he was still alive and obsessed with you.”
“We thank you,” Daphne said. “It was not your fault. My dear mother thought it best to make decisions for me and revealed my location.”
The Nicholsons looked aghast at the possibility a mother would do just that.
Daphne’s heart clenched at the thought. She still wanted a chance to be with her mother, without her critiques and insults.
She imagined what it might feel like if the Dowager truly behaved as a mother was expected to.
The thought puzzled her exceedingly because she could not fathom a world in which the Dowager would ever put her children before herself.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Adrian said softly, sensing his wife’s silence.
“I can’t help it. I’m still wondering what if she were different. Not like this,” Daphne lamented.
“She isn’t, but I think we can give her a chance when she’s ready to reconcile.”
Daphne smiled at her husband. She could not help it. The darkness in him seemed to be retreating, but there were still days when he would wander back to the gallery where his family portrait was. He’d stay there, hands behind his back, watching the fading vestiges of his family.
“Thank you for ensuring she won’t be here,” she murmured with a low chuckle.
“I feel sorry for her. She won’t get to know her beautiful daughter, wearing a gown of emerald green. I love it on you.”
“Of course, I know that.”
“It’s time for you to play, Daphne,” Marianne urged.
Everyone clapped. Daphne’s eyes moistened as she saw all of them in the same room, happy together. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
She sat straight in front of the pianoforte, poised her fingers over the ivory keys, and played. Her fingers moved with precision and her body swayed with the passion she placed into it. Her eyes closed as she did. All she could lean on was the spirit of the music.
The first piece was dedicated to Adrian’s mother. It was slow and melancholic, telling a story of loss and betrayal. Even through the sadness, the music ebbed and flowed with grace. The yearning flowed throughout. Daphne had taken Adrian’s heartbreak and made it into music full of tragic beauty.
After the final notes, there was stillness and silence. Daphne looked around, worry thrumming in her heart.
What did they think of it?
Her gaze fell on her husband. His jaw was tight, eyes taking on a darkness that she had seen only once or twice before. Then, it relaxed. The lines between his eyebrows faded a little. Instead, there was recognition there. Then, acceptance.
“You understood her,” he mouthed.
She took it as her cue to launch into Cassandra’s Theme.
This piece was younger and more vibrant.
Joy and chaos reverberated throughout until Daphne could no longer breathe.
From what she had learned about Adrian’s sister, she loved life and talked about things openly and in an opinionated way.
The description reminded her of Wilhelmina and Victoria but stunted and prematurely ended.
She ended with notes of hope and eternal love as if Cassandra lived on in all of them.
Applause exploded in the drawing room. There were playful whistles and squeals, too. She liked the fact that they all could be who they wanted to be and act the way they wanted to be.
Her sisters rose and rushed to hug her. Elizabeth stayed back a little, as she dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief. Reverend Nicholson was still clapping, his face red.
Adrian walked toward Daphne slowly with a soft smile on his face. He didn’t say a word, but he reached out and took his wife’s hands in his much bigger ones and kissed the knuckles. His eyes probed within her soul.
“Thank you,” was all he said.
Soon, the party moved to the dining room. The large tables were decorated with fragrant white roses. The family members were all seated, beaming at each other. It felt wonderful to be in a group where they did not have to pretend to be anyone else.
The soup was served, the bowls quickly emptied and cleared. Adrian took it as an opportunity to rise, tapping his spoon on his glass. The room quickly quieted. Everyone’s eyes turned on the Duke.
Adrian raised his wine and said, “I prefer to keep my feelings private. My life revolved around duty and solitude, and I acted quietly out of habit and necessity. I wrongly viewed love as a weakness and thought seeking happiness was risky—oddly enough, I feared exposure more than death.”
He glanced at the room, finally looking at Daphne.
“Our marriage was unconventional, thanks in part to Briarwood’s pursuit of her; otherwise, we might never have met. Initially, I wanted to protect her, but dismissed the feeling. For a time, she believed letting ourselves be loved was true bravery—more daunting than anything I’d faced.”
Emotion made Adrian’s waver. His eyes shone with unshed tears. Nobody would ever believe that the Wolf would end up this vulnerable today. He was known for being cold and intimidating.
“I toast to my duchess, Daphne. I cannot think of anyone else who could have persuaded me to leave a life of bachelorhood, alone and in the dark. Not everyone can take Wolfcrest and make it into a home. She will always be the most important part of my life. To Daphne!”
Everyone else cheered, “To Daphne!”
Daphne’s tears were in danger of falling, as she clutched at her heart while listening to her husband’s toast.
She’d always thought she was nothing but another obedient debutante, eager to learn how to find a husband so that she could be a dutiful duchess who would bear him heirs. She didn’t mind that it would be Adrian, but her life with him had transformed him through and through.
She composed herself before smiling at everyone and responding to the toast.
“I dreamed of being the best debutante of the ball, not because I wanted to snare a wealthy, titled husband. I merely wanted to be the princess in the story, just like those beautiful fairy tales I read as a child. I wanted to fall in love. Everything would be perfect, and we would live happily ever after. When Briarwood came along, I was gripped with fear. The fear was no longer about not achieving the status my mother wanted me to earn. I actually feared for my life and virtue. But with him,” she said, watching Adrian with adoring pride.
“I might not have gotten a fairytale or a smooth ending to the story. However, I met someone who is real. Flesh and blood. We are both imperfect, but being able to work together through not only the most joyous times, but also through the hardships, made everything much better. Adrian, my wolf, thank you for letting me into your world. For letting me break through the walls you’ve built. ”
Adrian quickly moved from his chair and toward his wipe, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. It didn’t matter that everyone else was still there. They kissed with unashamed fierceness.
Everyone else applauded the openness of love.
Dinner continued after their declarations. The guests were notably more relaxed around Adrian, conversing with him with ease. Alasdair was in deep conversation with the Wolf.
Daphne could not help but overhear mention of shipping ventures. She was not surprised. Alasdair, a Scottish-born Duke, knew what it was like to be considered a feared outsider. They might not mention it to each other, but she knew that helped with the bond. Daniel was more open, as well.
“Well, this is strange, but the kind of strange that must continue,” the young marquess mused. “It is lovely not to have to argue with the Wolf again.”
“Grisham, we can still make time for that!” Adrian jested.
Victoria didn’t seem to be so happy, though. During the whole dinner, her face was scrunched into a scowl. She matched Hector. The little boy could not seem to forgive the Duke of Wolfcrest just yet.
Daphne knew that every now and again, the duo would shoot daggers at Adrian. Their message was loud and clear: Do not hurt her or I will end you.