Extended Epilogue
Two Years Later…
“How does she do it?” Caroline gasped, stretching her head as far out of the carriage window as she could.
Max had his hands on her waist, grasping fistfuls of her skirts as if he meant to yank her back at any moment. “You can see everything when we reach the manor, my love. You should not be sticking your head out like that in your condition.”
“My condition?” She chuckled. “I am with child, love, not desperately unwell.”
“Nevertheless, I would feel more comfortable if you just sat down,” he insisted, anxiety lacing his voice.
He had been the same way for three months, ever since they received the happy news that, after two years of hoping, they had finally been blessed with a child. It only worsened once Caroline began to show, her belly rounding, the baby starting to kick.
Once upon a time, she was the one who had been unable to leave Max alone. Now, he was the one who followed her into every room or found random excuses to be wherever she was, forever asking if she needed anything or if he might sit with her while she worked.
“I cannot do that, my love,” Caroline replied. “I am enjoying this feast for the eyes, and I shall continue to do so, for who knows when I might be able to attend one of these again. Motherhood will undoubtedly reduce my social calendar, and wherever I am, and our child is, you will be hovering around like a mother hen, so we ought to savor this.”
Max groaned. “Very well, but I am not letting go of you.”
The long driveway to the Countess of Grayling’s resplendent manor was lined with raised platforms, richly decorated with greenery and sprays of colorful flowers to resemble fairy bowers.
Lounging and standing on top of the plinths were performers with gleaming wings draped in bold fabrics, their skin painted in countless vivid patterns to mimic butterflies, dragonflies, and magical beings. Some were iridescent, some were striped, some were leopard-spotted, and some were dappled as if moonlight was glancing through tree branches to illuminate them. Others were more bird-like, with huge wings and beaked masks, perching like strange angels.
Whenever a carriage went by, the mystical creatures fluttered their wings and moved in a slow dance that made Caroline think she was in a dream.
“Perhaps, we could do something like this at Cedar House,” Caroline said, glancing back at her anxious husband. “I can perfectly imagine transforming our summer house into a fairy glen. Harewood Court, even! The reflecting pool would be glorious if we had floating lights!”
Max grimaced. “I doubt the floor could bear the weight of so many guests, my love. The entire manor would be twice as lopsided the next day. But we could have another ball there with a more discerning guest list.”
They had hosted their first ball the year before, for a moderate crowd of guests. Caroline had fretted for weeks, terrified that no one other than the Spinsters’ Club would come, so it had been quite the shock when an endless stream of carriages had begun to rattle down the driveway. Apparently, curiosity had been greater than any lingering disapproval toward the Duchess of Harewood, and though it had been the most stressful evening of her life, it had also been one of the best.
“No, perhaps not,” Caroline said, retreating into the carriage. “When our child is older maybe, but, until then, I think I will leave the glorious gatherings to the expert. Truly, there will never be another like the countess; she has the sort of imagination that I wish I had.”
Max laughed, pulling her to his side. “It also helps that she is extraordinarily wealthy.”
“And we should never forget the debt that we owe her.” Caroline smiled, draping her legs over Max’s, cuddling into him.
After the scandal had reached the rest of society, several of Max’s business associates had very suddenly decided that they no longer wanted to be involved with him. For several weeks, Max had spent all day in his study, poring over ledgers and documents to try and figure out what the impact would be on his fortune and legacy.
On the night she found him fast asleep at his desk with his quill still in his hand, Caroline had made the decision to speak to Beatrice Wilds—the countess herself. She knew from Anna that Beatrice had made her own fortune, building on the not-inconsiderable wealth that her husband had left behind until she was possibly the most wealthy person in England. Wealthier than Daniel, even.
Within the week, Beatrice had undone everything the scandal had wreaked havoc upon. Max had new, better business associates, and by the end of their first year of marriage, they had twice the fortune they had started with. Indeed, they had been in such a fortunate position that Max had lessened the amount of time he spent in his study, spending more of his days with his wife instead.
Caroline had not been idle, either. She now ran the estates at Harewood Court and Cedar House, taking that burden from her husband. And she continued to daydream about architecture, sketching the changes that, one day, would be made to their residences. She made designs for others too, under the name of Dennis Carol. The Viscount of Mowbury and Lord Pocklington had already implemented some, to great acclaim, but she was very judicious about who she gave her designs to, never wanting her most calming pastime to feel like work.
“Will Dickie and Ellen be attending?” Caroline peered up at her husband.
Max laughed softly, his fingertips lightly stroking her hair as if she were Powder Puff. “There is no way of knowing, at any given time, what those two will do. Dickie said he was considering it, and that was the last I heard.”
The carriage trundled the rest of the way to the grand manor house, pulling to a halt outside the elegant porch. Two footmen dressed as tiger-striped butterflies opened the door, but it was Max who helped his wife out.
With a steadying breath, Caroline smoothed her hands down the front of her bold, emerald-green gown and adjusted the gossamer wings attached to her back. Max smiled at her, fixing the golden circlet she wore on her head, not caring at all that his own wings were askew.
“Do not be nervous, my love,” he whispered to her. “You are always the belle of the ball. And you will always be my diamond.”
She grinned. “I am not nervous; I am excited. It has been months since everyone was together in the same place, and I cannot wait.”
“It is going to be a very loud night, I fear,” he said, laughing as he escorted her up the steps and into the manor.
The entire entrance hall and the hallway leading toward the ballroom had been transformed into the most magical forest, lined with fake trees that looked impossibly real, draped in swathes of pretend ivy, and absolutely covered in flowers and potted bushes in every direction. The serving staff was dressed like the performers outside, offering drinks in strange and exciting colors.
Max and Caroline made their way through the fantastical world that Beatrice had created until they reached the doorway of the ballroom.
“You are right,” Max murmured, his eyes wide. “How does she do this?”
The ballroom could have been a glade in a deep and mysterious forest, everything but the dance floor covered in a layer of green felt, the walls surrounded with trees and bushes, and billowing cascades of something that looked like Spanish moss.
Just then, a light blue butterfly came running toward the couple, pursued by several other fairies and forest creatures.
“Caro!” Ellen threw her arms around her friend. “Oh, it is so good to see you! Dickie wanted to stay in Scotland for another few weeks, but I insisted on coming. I could not miss having everyone together again.”
Caroline hugged her back. “It is good to see you too.” She looked over her friend’s shoulder to find Dickie posing proudly in a faun costume, wearing furry trousers and a tailcoat, with two small horns protruding from his hair. “But I do not think there was any chance of Dickie missing this.”
Ellen pulled back and rolled her eyes playfully. “He is obsessed with that costume. To make matters worse, there is not a single guest here who has not ‘fawned’ over it. He is in his element.”
“You look happy.” Caroline beamed.
“As do you.” Ellen took hold of her friend’s hands and squeezed them gently. “Goodness, did you ever think that you and I would be sisters by marriage?”
Caroline shook her head. “No, but I am certainly glad that we are. Is your actual sister here? I cannot remember the last time I saw her.”
“She is over there somewhere, dancing with the Earl of Sherbourne,” Ellen replied, gesturing to the dance floor. Sure enough, Joanna was dancing merrily with a very handsome gentleman with large black wings, positively glowing in the ambient light of the forest ballroom.
“Let us hold our dear Caro!” Matilda muscled in, pulling Caroline into a fierce hug. “How are you feeling? Are you fatigued? Have you read my book about being with child?”
Caroline laughed. “I am perfectly well. Indeed, I have never felt better, and I promise I have your book waiting on my bedside table. I shall read it before the baby comes.”
“I shall be an aunt at last,” Anna said excitedly, nudging Matilda out of the way so that she could steal a hug from Caroline.
Caroline gave her sister-in-law an extra tight squeeze. “Are you still planning on coming to Harewood, to guide me through this?”
“I would not miss it, dearest Caro,” Anna promised, kissing Caroline’s cheek before moving on to embrace her brother.
Leah, Olivia, and Phoebe all took their turns greeting Caroline and Max, everyone talking at the same time to try and make up for all of the months they had spent apart. There were so many stories to tell, so many life events that had taken place, and Caroline was looking forward to hearing every last one, all through the night.
Truly, there was nothing that cheered her heart as much as everyone being together—the ladies and the gentlemen of the extended Spinsters’ Club forming their own groups, speaking animatedly as if they were one vast family.
“My beautiful girl!” Amelia appeared, her cheeks rosy with joy as she hurried to embrace her daughter. “And my beautiful son-in-law!” She grabbed Max and yanked him into the hug, holding them both with all her might.
Max chuckled. “We saw you last week, Amelia. You would think it had been years.”
“To me, a week away from the two of you is as long as a year,” she protested. “How have you been? Tell me everything.”
“Soon,” Max said, seeking out Caroline’s hand. “But first, I mean to dance with my fairy bride.”
Amelia drew back, flapping her hand toward the dance floor. “Of course! Go, go! I shall watch you, for I love nothing more than to see my daughter dance with her handsome husband.” She smiled wistfully. “It reminds me so much of me and my Lionel. Goodness, he would be so happy if he could see you both. If he could see all of you—my little ducklings.”
“I know he can see us,” Caroline said, leaning in to hug her mother once more.
Indeed, I have often believed that he had a hand in bringing Max and me together.
She could not explain it, but she liked to think that all of the requests she had made to fate had actually been a request to her father, and he had made sure that his daughter got the dream she had always wanted.
“Come now,” Amelia said, gently pushing Caroline away. “Go and dance, my lovelies! And then, return here and tell me everything I have missed this past week.”
Max bowed his head to his mother-in-law and led Caroline through the crowd of fairies and forest beings, though he did not go directly to the dance floor. Instead, he pulled her into a tunnel of ivy that had been created down one side of the ballroom, twinkling candles casting low, amber light into the shadows.
“What are you doing?” Caroline whispered. “I thought we were dancing.”
Max turned to face her. “Let us just say that we got lost in the woods for a moment.”
“But Mama will be waiting to see us dance,” Caroline urged, her stomach fluttering as Max brought his hands up to cradle her face.
“And dance we will,” he said softly. “But first, and perhaps it is some form of spell that has been cast upon me by a beautiful fairy queen in emerald-green, I feel a sudden need to kiss my wife.”
He bent his head, catching her mouth with his in a slow, searing kiss that made her feel as if she really could fly. The muffled sound of the ball and the orchestra faded as she kissed him back, though she knew that they were probably flirting with another scandal if they were discovered.
Then again, if the love between a husband and wife could be deemed scandalous, she did not care what they wrote. Indeed, the gossipmongers’ lives must have been sad indeed if they would disdain what should be celebrated.
She drew back slowly, smiling. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Max told her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Meanwhile, his other hand pressed lightly against her stomach, just as the baby kicked. “And I shall love this little one just as much, as well as the twelve other children we shall have.”
She laughed, covering his hand with hers. “Twelve? I think not.”
“Whether it is one or twelve, I hope they know that they will be the luckiest of children to have a mother like you,” he said, his voice thick.
“And to have a father like you, who will fret whenever they go near a tree and will never sleep well again, worrying over them.” She grinned, rising on tiptoe to press one more daring kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” he whispered, holding her close.
“For what?”
He kissed her hair, murmuring, “For not running that day. For agreeing to marry me.”
“Back then, I thought my ploy was an utter failure,” she said, sighing. “But once I knew you, once I knew how I felt, I realized that everything happened exactly the way it was meant to. We were fated from the start.”
“I could not agree more.” He grazed one last kiss to her lips and took her by the hands, leading her back out of the tunnel. “Now, my fairy bride, what do you say to that dance?”
The End