Chapter 41 – Epilogue
Grant
I t’s a lovely Saturday in June as I prepare to marry my wife. Strictly speaking, it’s a vow renewal but the first wedding was a rushed affair at City Hall with no one present we cared about. I didn’t even kiss her that day. Today is going to be very different.
“Have you slept at all lately?” I ask Anthony when he joins us as the hour for my nuptials draws near.
He shakes his head. “My old insomnia battles are nothing compared to dealing with a newborn.” We give him commiserating nods but it’s evident he’s a very happy new dad.
“It’s something I’d like to experience myself someday… though my wife’s a twin and there are triplets in my family.”
“Fucking hell, I don’t know if I could handle that,” Anthony says, choking back laughter.
Speaking of family…
“Can I expect to see my old school pal Lincoln here today?” Dean drawls, sarcastically.
“No, you won’t. We’ve not spoken since New Year’s and I doubt we will again but trust me when I tell you I am not saddened by the fact.”
“I’m sorry, Grant. Wish you had some family that was-”
“It’s fine,” I tell my best man. “The family that’s here today is what matters to me and I count all of you in that.”
I am a Barclay. My grandfather made me one in name, whether they liked it or not. And, I’m Elyse’s son. Beyond that, I don’t have to be anyone other than a good grandson and brother-in-law, a good friend and my wife’s very devoted husband.
“What’s the honeymoon agenda?” Jameson asks. “You are taking one this time, right?”
“We definitely are. Daisy didn’t want anything large or ornate for the ceremony and I agreed. The honeymoon is another matter. I’m taking her to every place she’s ever wanted to go over the course of the next year. We’ll see every city in the world with an art museum she wants to visit, any beach she’s ever wanted to walk upon and I promised to teach her to ski.”
“So, do you actually still work with us?” Samuel asks, jokingly.
“Of course, I do. Our honeymoon will be more like a series of honeymoons over the coming year. We’ll work around Daisy’s art school schedule and I have to keep my job.”
He laughs but I did put everything in Daisy’s name. After transforming the winery, fixing up Mimi’s old retirement home, donations to other worthwhile causes and setting up our honeymoon fund, I, Grant Barclay, am no longer a billionaire.
But, my wife is.
“Our CEO agreed to the time off,” I add, nodding at Anthony.
“Of course, I did. We want our CFO to be a happy man… even when he goes a bit nuts.”
Can’t argue with that. I’m certifiably crazy in love with my wife.
“Your bride is stunning,” Ezra says, slipping into the room late to join us for our toast.
“You saw her? She’s here?”
“Where would she be, man? It’s your home.”
“Right, right.”
They all chuckle at me and my nervousness but I don’t mind. Barclay Estate is hosting a wedding today. Flowers are in bloom, the ducks and swans are maintaining a temporary truce and the maze is open to be explored. I can hear laughter coming from it now. It’s not the ghostly echoes of the past either. The handful of children who live at Barclay Winery Inn with their mothers love it as much as I did when I was their age. It’s my privilege to teach them every twist and turn in it when they lose their way.
“Can you tell me what her dress looks like?” I ask Ezra, curiously. Daisy’s been as secretive about the dress as she was about my mother’s portrait.
“No way. The women swore me to secrecy. By the way, Dean, I saw Liam arrive with a date. Someone serious?”
“Nah, I’ve never seen the kid be serious about any woman for more than two seconds and she’s my age, quite a bit older than him. She’s just a friend.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ezra asks, skeptically.
“Toast time,” Jameson interrupts, holding up a bottle and preventing further debate. We all agreed to one shot just to keep me from completely freaking out. “Grant… relax.”
I am. Mostly. It’s a big day, bigger than I ever realized the first time I married her.
“Easy for you to say. You’re the last single man here, Jameson.”
“I’ve not been single for nearly two years now, Dean. And, I won’t be much longer in the technical sense if I can help it but Kiara says not to bug her about wedding crap when she’s heading into her third year soon.”
“Gentlemen,” Anthony says, holding up his glass and calling us to order. “Let’s remember who we’re celebrating today. To Grant and Daisy! Tanta felicità!”
We repeat the Italian phrase without butchering it too badly. Lots of happiness . That’s exactly what I feel when it’s time to take my place in the garden with Dean at my side at last.
My other partners and Ezra have rejoined their ladies in the crowd of well wishers. Several employees from Golden Gate along with my household staff are our honored guests today. I smile at Theodosia borrowing Radcliffe’s handkerchief and Callie’s son Wyatt asking Luis when he can visit the maze. The gardener promises to show him as soon as we say, ‘I do.’
When the music starts up, I can’t focus on anything but the moment. Jewel, acting as her sister’s bridesmaid, comes first. Then, I see Mimi proudly escorting her granddaughter, my beautiful wife.
A few murmurs of surprise greet the bride’s appearance. That stylist I hired months ago for Daisy looks to be on the verge of tears. I can only throw my head back and laugh at the paint-splattered wedding gown. Red, blue, yellow, black and green, my wildflower took her gorgeous gown and made it something completely original. A work of art. Like her.
Those paint splatters are getting me hard under my wedding suit’s trousers, too, as I recall the first time we ‘painted’ each other. She wears a mischievous grin as she joins me, knowing me all too well.
“You look very handsome, Mr. Barclay. Are you prepared to do some painting later?” she murmurs, the little minx.
“Always. You are beautiful, Mrs. Barclay, but you seem to have ruined your dress,” I reply, playfully.
“I’m afraid I did. Quite careless of me. Be sure and discipline me for it later.”
“Do you have more paint?”
“For us?Always.”
The officiant clears his throat – we can only hope he didn’t catch all that – and Daisy starts to turn toward him until…
“Grant!” She melts under my kiss though, her body softening against mine as soon as our lips meet. I can feel her smile forming as I keep kissing her, not caring if I’m getting the cart before the horse. I married her before I fell in love with her so why not?
“Young man, that part comes at the end.”
Our guests chuckle along with the bemused officiant until, reluctantly, I release her long enough for the ceremony to begin.
In a great display of restraint, I only hold things up three more times by kissing her during the service and our officiant is not quite as amused by the end. “I now pronounce you- oh, for the love of… fine! You may kiss your bride!”
And, I do.
∞∞∞
Daisy
The party lasted well into the night and several guests chose to stay over since Barclay Manor has plenty of room. It didn’t stop my husband from rucking my painted gown up past my hips the second we were behind closed doors and consummating our vows. Again. And, again.
But, as the re-newlyweds, Grant and I lie in the next morning as everyone else enjoys a farewell breakfast hosted by Mimi and Mrs. Keating. Neither woman lets anyone linger too long. “ Mr. and Mrs. Barclay thank you all for coming but-”
“Don’t let the door hit you where the good Lord split you after you grab some bacon. You never know what my granddaughter’s spicy-tongued husband may do.”
She’s not entirely wrong. The man I married last November is still there but he’s shown me he’s more than capable of keeping me on my toes. I like that I can keep him on his. He’s softened a good deal in the best possible ways, too.
“There is nothing soft about me right now,” he rasps wickedly and punctuates it with a deep thrust. I moan and arch my back, unable to form any argument. I love all of him.
When we rise for a late brunch, we find my sister and grandmother still here. Grant says he’s going for a run to give us Potter ladies a few private moments together post-wedding. “Then, I’m coming to claim my wife again,” he whispers in my ear before kissing my cheek and heading inside to change.
“We’re not staying long,” Jewel promises as I take a walk down to the duck pond with her and Mimi. “I’ve got an interview tomorrow and Efrem has promised to make me look fabulous for it.”
“You look fabulous anyway but I know he’ll enjoy that. He may never forgive me for the dress.”
We all share a laugh but Mimi says he will. “He likes his client with deep pockets too much not to.”
Since leaving Rod and starting the journey of finding her own path, Jewel’s been working at my favorite art supply store and discovered her own artistic interest – pottery. “Jewel Potter, the potter,” she jokes but I know she’ll put her whole heart into it. She’s interviewing for a position at one of the smaller galleries in the city tomorrow. “It’s just a desk job but I’ll earn my own money at it.” My sister never has to worry about money again if I have any say in the matter but I respect her feelings because I share them.
Coincidentally, Rod’s auto-detailing shop went out of business last month. I could feel sympathy for anyone falling on hard times but I recall how he treated my sister. And, while I have no proof, I have a sneaking suspicion my husband might’ve been behind his sudden drop off in business. “Anyone who has ever mistreated my wife deserves some strife in my opinion,” he’d told me darkly when asked.
Anders hasn't attempted to contact me again and I don’t expect he will if he knows what’s good for him. As for Lincoln and Emilia, his development plans to turn this estate into a subdivision not only fell through but it seems some of his investments are suddenly turning sour. It’s not a good time to be a Barclay. At least for some of them. I’m sure between his three aging great aunts though, he’ll get by.
Reaching the pond, we wave to a couple of our guests from the inn. They were initially a little shy of talking, a little uncertain of their standing here but I’m glad to see several of them warming up to the staff and growing quite attached to the ducks and swans. It’s not an easy thing finding your way back to any sense of normalcy after living in pure survival mode for any amount of time. But, that’s what we hope we can help them with… even if their new normalcy involves a grand estate with its own hedge maze.
The other day, I ran into one of the girls in the maze and she asked if Luis was telling the truth about Grant camping out in it for a few weeks this past winter. I told her he was. She’d been baffled but highly amused, sharing the story with the others before sundown.
“Have you given Grant his wedding gift yet, Daisy?” Mimi asks as we turn back toward the house.
“Not yet but soon,” I answer, gleefully.
Since Grant loved the painting of his mother, I’ve stuck with honing my portraiture skills. I have painted every member of the household along with Mimi, Jewel and my mother and added them to the hall where the gallery paintings Grant bought me hang. I wonder what Imogen, Ida and Isabella would think about the fact that a Barclay not only married a servant but has portraits of some hanging on his walls. They’d probably faint.
I finished the final piece the night before our wedding and showed it to my friends and family prior to walking down the aisle – Mr. and Mrs. Grant Barclay… in paint-splattered wedding dress and suit but undeniably happy.
“Well, hello again,” his deep voice calls as he joins us, shirtless and sweaty from his run and too delectable-looking for words.
Mimi shoots a sly look at Jewel and says they should tell Paul it’s time to head back to town. Hugging them goodbye, I silently agree with that decision. My husband said he’d be back to claim me but I want to claim him, too.
The corners of his mouth tip upward when I whisper what I have in mind. “I’ll race you to the house. First one back starts the shower.”
He rolls his eyes, both of us knowing he could easily outrun me.
Then, he makes me screech with laughter the next moment when he lifts me into his strong arms. “I’ve got a better idea. We can both start it together… and get dirty first.”
With an excited nod, I rest my head against my husband’s chest, listening to the steady sound of his beating heart and loving him with every beat of mine.