Epilogue
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Redmoor Hall was no longer a place of tragic memories.
Alasdair didn’t have to haunt its halls with pacing and mumbling at midnight. He and Elizabeth didn’t have to hide from the rest of the ton.
These days, they proudly displayed their love, and people followed them with awestruck gazes.
How was that possible? they’d whisper.
The young married couple could finally celebrate openly with their family and friends.
Finally, the long dining table would be used for a feast. It was adorned with fresh winter blooms, spreading their scents all over the place.
All kinds of dishes were there: thick slabs of meat for the hunters, and fresh vegetables and fruit for Marianne, and to some extent, Dominic.
Candles flickered in a dance, while everyone laughed and talked about what they had been up to. Life had been kinder, easier to talk about.
“I cannae believe we’re here like this,” Alasdair admitted.
He still thought about how grateful he was that his father’s name had been cleared.
It wasn’t perfect.
People still talked about him as if he were a barbarian released into civilization. Some people still turned their noses up whenever he and Elizabeth passed by.
They were a precious few, and they didn’t matter. What mattered was that he and his wife were at peace. They didn’t have to concern themselves about matters within the hearts of bitter men.
“You couldn’t?” Elizabeth asked, wiggling her eyebrows at her husband.
Some married couples preferred to sit across from one another, but Alasdair and Elizabeth liked to sit close, their shoulders brushing, glances exchanged like secret notes.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this: the sound of her laugh, the way she leaned into him when someone said something outrageous.
“Nae,” he said now, grinning, “but I daresay I’ve landed the better bargain.”
“I know what he means,” Dominic chimed in, ever the earnest brother-in-law. “There was a time I met a strong-willed woman—”
“Strong-willed?” Marianne cut in, raising a brow in mock offense.
Dominic’s eyes twinkled. “I remember you made everything a challenge from the moment I met you, my love. But I’d go through it all again.”
His gaze shifted to his daughter, Diana, toddling around with a spoon in her fist, and Alasdair knew that Dominic meant every word.
Across the table, Wilhelmina raised her glass lazily and said, “I could get used to this. Domestic peace. Good food. Conversations not steeped in matrimonial judgment.”
“You say that,” Elizabeth said, voice light, “but you’re still expected to bring home a suitor before next Season.”
Wilhelmina snorted. “I’m always expected to bring home a suitor.”
“You’re too young for that,” Marianne said, tone protective.
“Not according to the marriage mart,” Wilhelmina pointed out sweetly. “And besides…” Wilhelmina went on, shrugging with deliberate nonchalance, “perhaps I’ve found a way out of the torment of the marriage mart.”
Elizabeth’s brow arched with slow delight. “Is that so? Should we be worried for some unsuspecting gentleman?”
“Oh no,” Alasdair murmured. “Not another fool with a title and no spine. Shall we place wagers on how long he’ll last?”
Wilhelmina smiled reluctantly. “He’s no fool,” she said. “And he’s not trying to impress anyone, least of all me.”
Daniel, seated further down the table, nearly choked on his wine. “Wait, are we talking about him?”
Wilhelmina sighed. “Oh, here we go.”
“Lord Slyham?” Daniel asked, eyes wide with mischief. “You mean the one who wore red velvet to a funeral just to prove a point? The one who convinced half the ton that he’d stolen the Prince Regent’s dog?”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Wilhelmina said coolly. “He was… merely tending to the beast.”
“And didn’t he once ride a pig into the Foxley masquerade?” Daniel grinned.
“That one might be true,” she allowed. “But at least he’s not a dullard in starched cravats quoting Latin over roast duck.”
“He’s got flair, I’ll give him that,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “And according to you, he’s tolerable.”
“More than tolerable,” Wilhelmina said, adjusting her napkin. “He listens. He reads. He dares to disagree with my mother. Really, what more could a girl ask for?”
“Love?” Dominic offered.
“Companionship?” Marianne added.
“Free pigs?” Daniel suggested.
Wilhelmina shot her brother a withering look. “He’s clever. He’s kind. He asks questions and actually waits for the answers. And yes, he’s got a ridiculous streak, but frankly, so do I.”
Elizabeth leaned forward slightly. “Do you like him?”
Wilhelmina considered it. “I like that he doesn’t flinch. Not from me, not from our mother, not from the absurdity of the ton. He’s the first man I’ve met who sees the performance for what it is, and mocks it better than I ever could.”
“Oh dear,” Daniel muttered. “That sounds suspiciously like fondness.”
“Say nothing more,” Marianne said dramatically. “She’s doomed.”
Wilhelmina chuckled. “I haven’t chosen anyone. But I’m not dreading next Season for once.”
“Lady Grisham does tolerate him,” Elizabeth said carefully. “Almost approves of him, even.”
“Which terrifies me,” Wilhelmina said, sipping her wine. “I’m not sure if she’s plotting his demise or his promotion.”
“Both,” Daniel said. “Simultaneously.”
The twins, who had been unusually quiet until then, perked up at the mention of Lady Grisham and began whispering amongst themselves with wicked grins.
“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth said, leaning slightly toward her sister. “I’m sure your mother will find a way to claim full credit for your happiness, if it comes to that.”
“Let’s not jinx it,” Wilhelmina said quickly. “I’m not handing her that victory just yet.”
Daniel leaned across the table, stage-whispering with a mock-serious tone, “I give you a month before you’re writing insipid poems about the color of his eyes.”
“Perhaps not a poem, but a detailed essay, certainly,” Dominic added.
Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine. “All of you are insufferable.”
“Which is why you missed us,” Elizabeth said sweetly.
Wilhelmina gave a long-suffering sigh. “Perhaps. Just a little.”
But her smile lingered.
And Alasdair could see it plainly: she was happy.
Not swept away by romance, not lost in foolish daydreams, but glad. Perhaps even hopeful. For Wilhelmina, that was its own quiet rebellion.
And he hoped, for her sake, that Lord Slyham was up to the task.
The fire in the hearth crackled. Dishes were passed. Food was placed in heaps. Glasses clinked in toasts for just about everything, mostly love and prosperity.
What Alasdair liked the most was Elizabeth’s hand so close to his under the table. They were always touching, brushing against each other. It wasn’t all about lust, either. Most of the time, it was because of comfort.
“I am astonished and glad, Redmoor,” Dominic said, making an informal toast, “that you were able to redeem your father’s name.
Others might have just given up on it. It took you almost half of your life, but you managed to, and the perseverance and courage that it took is commendable. A toast to you.”
Alasdair beamed. He had lost his family and gained a much bigger one here in London. He knew that now.
“Let us not forget that I could not have done it alone,” he reminded everyone.
“Elizabeth had been there from the beginning, at least during me first few attempts at infiltrating London society. She taught me to deal with people, even when all I wanted to do was to growl and fight. I wanted to demand answers. She and Seth constantly reminded me that intellect and patience should always be above fists.”
“Yet, you still managed to use fists in the end,” Elizabeth said softly.
“Ah, you are right, wife. Still, I tried to be diplomatic until that moment. I also kenned that I had to bait him so that the Bow Street Runners could see just how vicious he could be. How willing to kill. I kenned the truth had resurfaced, but I dinnae want to take chances.”
“I understand that now. I wish that I never left Redmoor when you needed support.”
It was like this with family and friends. There was no need to hide their feelings. People around that dining table were on their side.
“You did everything you could, Lizzie,” Marianne reassured her sister. “I am proud of how you fought for your love and future.”
Elizabeth smiled at Alasdair. “It does not feel like a battle anymore. I am content.”
“Indeed,” Seth agreed. He eyed the rest of the dishes before them. “Meanwhile, I must battle my urges. It looks like I may not fit into my shirts by tomorrow.”
Everyone laughed. Even Dominic surreptitiously checked his belly, much to his wife’s amusement.
“Since our dear sister will likely get married soon, it is probably best to send Daphne to a boarding school,” Victoria suggested.
Her twin sister giggled at that.
“What about you, then?” Alasdair asked the cheeky girl.
“Me? I will run away, of course. I don’t care what people think of me. I don’t know why you all are fussing so much.”
“She has a point,” Alasdair muttered. “Don’t just run away. Ye ken ye can tell me and yer sister.”
“She still has many years to change her mind,” Elizabeth said, laughing.
“It’s a good thing Lady Grisham isn’t here tonight,” Marianne remarked. “Or she would be taking due note of your comments, Little Lady Victoria!”
“She’s keeping her distance,” Elizabeth said. “But I know that she is very much aware of everything.”
“Mother always had eyes at the back of her head,” Victoria complained.
“Father’s too ill to travel and Lady Grisham is taking a little break. You have time to say just whatever you want, Vicky, but you won’t have forever,” Marianne reminded her little sister.
“Father wrote,” Daphne informed the rest of the group. “It’s true that he is a little bit ill and cannot travel for quite some time. I wonder if we’ll ever see him again.”
Silence fell.