Epilogue
The carriage drew to a halt with all the familiar sounds…horses neighing, tack jingling, and snow crunching beneath the wheels.
Miss Allegra Carruthers blinked and gasped as she sat up straight and stared at Sir Oliver Bennett, who was doing much the same thing. He was dressed in his travelling clothes, as was she.
“Ally?”
“Oliver?”
“What the…”
“Where…”
She glanced down at her hand. The ring was still there on her finger, but they were no longer in bed in the Craddock Inn. “I don’t…” The words wouldn’t come. Her mind had screeched to a halt.
“We – er – ” Oliver cleared his throat. “We seem to be back where we started,” he said. “And don’t even ask me what happened because I don’t know. One minute we’re in bed…”
“And you were about to kiss me,” she whispered. “You asked me to – to marry you.”
“And you said yes.” His gaze fell on the ring. “It happened, Ally. It definitely happened.”
She nodded, feeling a smile curve her lips. “And I said yes, Oliver. I will marry you.”
“Oh, thank God.” He leaned over and grabbed her, cloak and all, dragging her onto his lap. “I need to kiss you now.”
“Yes, you do,” she laughed, taking his head in her hands.
It was a deep, wondrous kiss, full of delight and desire, enjoyed most thoroughly by both parties.
“Ahem.”
“Did you hear something?” Oliver muttered against her lips.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered back.
“Ahem.”
The sound came again, and Ally turned, nearly falling off Oliver’s lap as she saw Finch staring in through the now-open door of the carriage.
“Miss Carruthers,” he began. “Much as I hate to intrude upon this tender moment, your parents were becoming a little concerned by your lateness. They will be much relieved to know you have returned, but may I suggest that you come indoors as soon as possible?” His gaze drifted. “Good evening, Sir Oliver.”
Oliver grinned. “Happy Christmas, Finch. I believe the two of us will be coming inside. We’ve some interesting news for Lord and Lady Carruthers.” He held up Ally’s bare hand, and the ring glittered in the light from the house.
A smile lit the sober features of the butler.
“Well, in that case, allow me to offer congratulations to you both. But since it is quite cold, and this looks as if it might be a sizeable storm, would you please both get out of the carriage now, so that the poor driver may return to his home before it gets too bad.”
And so Sir Oliver Bennett and his brand new fiancée, Miss Allegra Carruthers, walked arm-in-arm into the brilliantly lit interior of Carruthers House, where they made Ally’s parents smile with ecstatic delight at their news.
Since the storm was increasing in intensity, it was suggested that Sir Oliver stay the night, an invitation he readily accepted.
It gave the two of them the opportunity to spin an impromptu and completely absurd tale about chance meetings, instant attraction, and the convenience of Sir Oliver just happening to have a family heirloom in his pocket.
Rather proud of themselves for their voluble – and utterly unbelievable – story, the happy couple sat correctly on the couch and watched the result.
Such was her glee that Lady Carruthers completely forgot about visiting Twelve Trees, declaring herself over the moon with her future son-in-law. Lord Carruthers grinned, nodded, and offered brandy. The happy couple glanced at each other, laughed, and accepted.
And later that night...
“It all worked out rather well, don’t you think?”
Ally sat on Oliver’s bed, watching him brush his hair with the set laid out for guests. She'd waited patiently until the household quietened, and then crept along the passage to the guest room, avoiding the one board that she knew would creak if stepped on.
“I’m amazed at our creativity,” he admitted. “And how glibly we told our unbelievable fairy tale.”
“Well, we couldn’t really start telling them about mysterious inns, ghosts, and apparitions, now, could we? They’d have packed us both off to Bedlam.”
“True.” He grinned. “I think together we are rather a formidable force, Ally.” He jumped onto the bed, making her bounce and laugh as he tumbled them both into a pile. “And you shouldn’t be here at all, but I’m glad you are.”
The sound of chimes caught their attention.
“Midnight,” he said, holding her close. “It’s Christmas Day.”
“So it is,” she snuggled in. “And no trip to Twelve Trees, thank God.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be married to what’s-his-name Guillemott?”
“I’m sure. Very sure.” She pulled his head down to hers.
“We’re engaged, Oliver. You’re mine and I’m yours.
There’s no escaping it now. And just so you know, I think I’ve probably loved you all along.
I was just too daft to realise it. Even when no other man could come close, I never understood the truth. ”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” he said smugly. “But honesty compels me to confess that no other woman’s kiss came anywhere near yours. You bowled me over, Ally. And at last, I feel as if I have my balance back. All of which means I love you too.”
As the final chime faded into the silence of Carruthers House, the engaged couple subsided into each other's arms and began an embrace that took them well into the early hours of Christmas morning.
They were so involved that they completely missed the soft, amused chuckle that drifted around the room as the firelight sparkled off the ring on Ally’s finger.
It was indeed where it belonged.
THE END