Epilogue
With a sense of satisfaction, Heathbrook surveyed Longmead’s ballroom, which hadn’t been used in years. Giselle had insisted on getting it into shape, so that they could have balls if they wanted.
Today, it was being used for their wedding breakfast, which included half the détenus in Somerset, it seemed.
Heathbrook had invited as many of the local ones as he could.
He’d even invited Lily and her husband, so no one could gossip about why he kept ignoring the pillars of the community when he had events.
That had been Giselle’s idea. Once Zack had made his decision to become known as their “illegitimate” child, everything had centered around lessening the blow for him.
Heathbrook had done his best to dissuade the lad from that course of action, but secretly he’d been glad that Zack had chosen him and Giselle.
What good was it being an earl if one couldn’t have what one most wanted?
And Giselle loved being Zack’s mother. She loved mothering all the boys. He couldn’t wait to see her have their own child to mother.
Scovell walked up to shake his hand. “I just spoke to Jon, and he didn’t seem to know that originally your engagement wasn’t a real one.”
Heathbrook scowled at him. “You didn’t tell him otherwise, did you?”
“Of course,” Scovell said, smirking. “What are friends for?”
Just then Jon marched up with Giselle following hastily behind. “What’s this I hear about you and Giselle having a fake engagement? She denies it, but I know you, Heathbrook, and it would be just like you to involve yourself with a woman under false pretenses.”
“Did my wife say it was under false pretenses?” Heathbrook asked, bristling at the accusation.
“Of course not.” Giselle took her husband’s arm. “Your bullheaded friend just will not listen.”
“That is not unusual for my husband,” Tory approached to say. “He’s a bear when it comes to protecting his family.” She softened her tone. “I think he’s merely angry you didn’t tell him about your arrangement when we came to stay with you in November.”
“I did not tell him because by then it was a moot point,” Giselle said. “Heath had already asked me to marry him in truth. The fake engagement had ended. And since we legitimately got married today, I should think it no longer matters.”
“Hmph,” Jon said. “And it is a genuine marriage?”
“As genuine as the local vicar could make it,” Heathbrook said. “We had the banns read for the proscribed three weeks, so everyone would know.” He covered Giselle’s hand with his. “We love each other. I think that’s what you really wish to hear.”
“I told you,” Giselle added. “This is no scheme, Jon.” Eyes gleaming, she added, “Besides, it is all your fault.”
“My fault!” Jon sputtered. “How is that? I tried to keep him away from you.”
Giselle laughed at her half brother-in-law. “You should have tried to keep me away from him. You were gone to the north when I sought help with my passports, so I had no choice but to turn to Heath. And he, being the gentleman he is, very admirably helped me.”
“For a price,” Scovell drawled.
“One that gained me a family.” Before Jon could protest that he and Tory were her family, she added, “A family I can publicly claim, even if Evan and Kit are only my stepbrothers-in-law.”
“And Zack is your son,” Scovell said.
“Yes,” Giselle and Heathbrook said together.
Not telling his friends the truth had been harder, but they had both agreed it was necessary. For better or worse, Zack was theirs now, and he had managed to keep the secret better than they’d expected.
At that moment, a servant approached to say, “The constable is here. He says he begs your pardon, but this cannot wait. I have put him in the drawing room.”
“Of course. I’ll be there shortly.” Heathbrook turned to his friends. “This is about Vaughan Jones, I’m sure, so you two may wish to join me.” He had told them everything he knew about Jones and his obsession with Sarah Beasley.
“And the wives must join you, too,” Giselle said firmly as Tory nodded. “This involves us as much as it does you three.”
“Very well.”
The four of them followed Heathbrook, all of them probably wondering what had been so urgent that the constable had felt compelled to interrupt a wedding breakfast over it.
As soon as they entered the drawing room, the constable gave a start.
“Forgive me, sir,” Heathbrook said, “but this may concern all of us, so we would all like to be present for your news.”
The constable nodded. He could hardly gainsay the lord of the manor.
“I thought I should inform you, my lord, that we found Vaughan Jones this morning. He was living in a lodging house that has been vacant for some months. The owner was abroad and unaware of his presence there until this morning, but it explains why we could not find him before.”
“Do you have him in custody now for assaulting my wife?” Heathbrook asked.
The constable grimaced. “We have his body in custody, yes.”
“His body?” Jon exclaimed.
“It appears he died by his own hand a few weeks ago. The owner found him upon his return, along with this note.”
He handed it to Heathbrook, who read it aloud.
To whom it may concern, I cannot live without my Sarah.
In trying to secure her, I have done unspeakable things, and I know that even if I can find her, those acts would prevent her from becoming mine.
She is a good person and would never approve.
Thus, I take my life in hopes that she will live happily in this world without me.
Sincerely,
Vaughan Jones
“How very odd,” Giselle said. “He did not strike me as a selfless fellow.”
“Not selfless,” Tory pointed out. “He is blatantly blaming his death on Sarah and hoping to make her feel guilty that he took his life to ‘protect’ her.”
“It’s still odd,” Heathbrook said. “He gave up the fight for no reason?”
“We found several letters from her in the place where he was staying,” the constable put in. “In them, she begged him to leave her be. They seem to be quite old, probably dating from when the two of them were in France.”
“Yet he decided to wait two or three years to kill himself over her?” Jon said. “I agree with you, Heathbrook, it’s a bit odd.”
“Then again, from what I knew of him, Jones was odd, wasn’t he?” Scovell said. “He definitely had a vendetta against Beasley. Perhaps once he realized he could never have his revenge on the man, he gave up.”
“How did Jones die?” Heathbrook asked the constable. When the man looked nervously at the two women, Heathbrook added, “My wife was assaulted by the man. She has a right to hear it if she wants.”
“I want to know,” Giselle added.
“He hanged himself. There will be an inquest, of course, but that is how it appears. And the note definitely confirms it.”
“I would like to attend the inquest, if you don’t mind,” Heathbrook said.
“Of course, my lord.”
“But for now, you are welcome to join us in celebrating our marriage—” Giselle began.
“No, no, my lady. I still have much to do involving the man’s death. I merely thought you would like to know that you no longer have to worry about the scoundrel.”
“Thank you, Constable,” she said. “It vastly relieves me, and I know it will relieve my mother, too, not to mention Sarah.”
The constable nodded. “I shall show myself out, sir. No point in me intruding any further on your celebration.”
After he left, Scovell asked, “What do you think Jones meant when he said he’d done ‘unspeakable things’?”
“Betraying us?” Heathbrook said. “Trying to get Beasley imprisoned in Verdun for those anti-Napoleon etchings he did? Attempting to marry Sarah without her father’s knowledge? Trying to drag my wife off by force? It could have been any of those. We just don’t know enough about the man to be sure.”
“Perhaps we should try to find out more about him,” Jon said. “If he’s the one who betrayed us, then we no longer have to worry about finding the fellow.”
“And if he’s not?” Heathbrook asked.
“Then we need to keep looking.” Scovell turned to Tory. “Have you learned anything more from your father’s journals?”
“I don’t know what I’ve learned, since I don’t know all the people involved,” she admitted. “But I’ve cataloged all the names and their connection to Papa, and I can give that to one of you if that helps.”
“Give it to me,” Scovell said. “Now that I’ve settled my brother’s estate, I have some time on my hands.”
“How is your family?” Heathbrook asked.
“Better, actually. I think it was rougher watching him die. It sounds awful, but it’s almost a relief to have it be over.”
“Give them our best,” Jon said.
Suddenly, the door to the drawing room burst open and Zack and Kit ran in, led by Evan.
“What happened?” Evan demanded. “We saw the constable. Did they find Jones?”
“Is he going to prison?” Kit asked. “Because he should be for what he did to Giselle!”
“He should be shot,” Zack cried. “He hurt my mother!”
“Whoa, whoa, lads, no one is getting shot,” Heathbrook said. “Actually, Jones is already dead. He killed himself, I’m afraid.”
“Oh,” Kit said, a bit deflated.
“Good,” Evan said firmly.
“Did he shoot himself?” Zack asked, now clearly fascinated with the blood-and-gore part of the Jones saga.
“No, you bloodthirsty little devil,” Heathbrook said. “You don’t need to know how he died. He can’t hurt anyone anymore. That’s all you need to know.”
“I was just wondering,” Zack said sullenly.
As usual, Giselle smoothed things over. “Thank you, boys, for being so concerned on my behalf. You probably saved my life that day in the Labyrinth.”
Evan drew himself up like a soldier. Kit beamed at her.
Zack thrust out his chest and announced, “We’d do it again, too, Mother, if you were in danger.”
The boy had certainly taken well to having Giselle in the role of mother.
Heathbrook patted her hand. “We all would.”
It was true. He would go through fire for her.
He would have gone through fire for Lily, too, but this was different.
Because this time he would rather be able to sit by a fire with his wife, to sleep with her even when they didn’t wish to make love, to eat and laugh and stroll the gardens.
This time he didn’t need the thrill of saving the fair maiden to sustain his love.
This time all he needed was love itself, for the woman who knew him as well as he knew himself. Just as he knew her bone-deep.
This time was bliss.