Epilogue #3
I really wasn’t sure whether a duke throwing a strop about me leaving the country, exiting the room, coming back, dumping a bunch of rings on the table and telling me to pick one before shoving several on my finger to unofficially officially ask me to marry him was better than doing it standing in a beautiful garden of a beautiful house in the sun with our families close and happy.
But since I got both, who cared?
“Try and stop me,” I answered.
He let my hand go, curled both arms around me and kissed me.
The wind drifted through the trees.
The ghosts settled in their graves.
And the world was set to rights.
At least it was at The Downs.
* * *
As for all the rest…
Prue’s book release went as expected.
It was a phenomenal success.
She immediately signed another deal.
Once the attics had been cleared, the Talyns went to work, and her upstairs studio was created.
It was totally kickass.
Something else expected: not long after her first release, she got a streaming deal.
But not before me.
My book about Elizabeth and Christopher Hatton was optioned and made into a film.
I used part of the million pounds I got from Chelsea’s dad, which I’d given to Battle to invest for me, to purchase the fabulous gown I wore to the premiere, and obviously, Battle escorted me.
A gazillion pictures were taken of us.
And seriously, I had no clue how he did it.
But not a single one of them shared more than a partial profile.
Though a few of them got a good shot of my amazing dress.
So that worked for me.
As for those million pounds…
We did a family thing in both Paris and Milan, that being everyone went with us, including Battle, Hamish and Christian.
Prue and Chassie also did their Switzerland thing.
The world opened up for everyone at The Downs.
Even so, it was always there, homebase, so although we all had our adventures…
No one was ever gone for long.
Also about those million pounds…
It took some effort, but it was effort I gleefully expended, filling my part of Battle’s and my closet.
I received those sexy nighties, and with my windfall, I bought a lot more.
Truthfully, it was a waste of money. My man was visual, tactile and imaginative, and adding that visual usually meant any sexy nightie I donned ended up on my body for a few minutes and on the floor for a whole lot longer.
That didn’t stop me from buying them.
Not at all.
I’d been wrong about Francois.
He was one hundred percent not gay.
Though I was right about one thing.
He was also one hundred percent seriously in love with Prue.
It was just that it was another kind of love altogether.
He confessed this to her when she went to London (by herself!) to tool around some museums and do some shopping. He asked her to dinner, and she went thinking it was some kind of client relations thing.
It was not.
They started dating.
They fell in love.
They got married in the single weirdest wedding I’d ever attended (the theme for the décor was goldfish (don’t ask me), even the cake topper was a goldfish with a bow tie and another one wearing a veil—I’ll let you fill in the rest, just be sure to do it the weirdest way possible), where she wore a creation designed by her fiancé, which was the single weirdest wedding gown of all time (yes, it was orange).
It was still fantastic, mostly because it was so weird, fascinating and fun.
And they were deliriously happy.
I was one of three bridesmaids.
Battle gave his sister away.
When those two weren’t in London, Francois worked with Prue in what became their studio in the attic.
And oh yeah, he totally moved in.
They had four children.
Two daughters, one named Kahlo, one named O’Keeffe (though, they called her Georgie).
And two sons, one named Matisse, the other was called Basquiat.
Tempie’s wedding to Hamish was intimate and elegant and no expense had been spared.
I was honored with standing up for her too.
And obviously, Battle gave her away.
Tempie let go of the flat in London, but if they were there, they stayed in Hamish’s.
They also spent quite a bit of time at Hamish’s family estate up near Aberdeen.
Even so, they took their places at The Downs and added two children to the menagerie.
Both boys.
Angus and Fergus.
They were borderline hooligans and drove their mother crazy (no, I will not admit to accepting Angus’s dare to skateboard through the great hall (but between you and me, I did)).
Even so, she adored them beyond reason.
As did we all.
Chassie and Christian married in the gardens.
Of course.
It was also small, intimate and very casual.
Surprising me, and making me melt into uncontrollable sobs, she asked if I’d accompany Battle when he walked her down the aisle.
Naturally, I agreed.
They started their married life in the gamekeeper’s cottage, and I understood that.
Even if the house was huge, they wanted a little bit of privacy.
Then again, not many girls, after their first time with the man they were falling in love with, had their entire families invade her bedroom the very next morning.
So I could see privacy was a thing for those two.
Once they started having babies, however, they moved to the big house.
They had five children.
Two boys, Alder and Rowan.
And three girls, Briar, Flora and Juniper.
Once Christian earned his PhD, the two of them started a niche gardening business where they took clients who were having issues with their gardens.
Bugs, disease, irrigation, whatever, Christian would go in and diagnosis it, and Chassie would help him irradicate it, replant (or fully redesign) and get the garden flourishing again.
In no time, they were all over the UK, rehabilitating gardens.
A bit of time after that, they were all over the continent doing the same thing.
They loved living, working and parenting together.
And since the night of Midnight Mayhem, they never spent a night apart.
Not once.
Prue, Chassie and I continued our cooking classes (it won’t surprise you, Tempie never joined).
Once Prue got breakfast down, she stopped coming.
But Chassie and I kept it up until she had a good month’s worth of recipes she could make (her shepherd’s pie was to die for!).
And she made them often, cooking for her guy.
Then, when they were at the big house, helping me with Sunday lunch.
Before all of that happened, while I was writing my book in the studio and Battle worked in his study, Prue and Chassie took off one day, returning to Glastonbury.
They came back with a beautiful, carved wood box.
So, when Tempie and Hamish showed for the weekend, I invited Ravenna over, and everyone went into the ballroom (oh yes, the girls told their men everything).
In there, Battle, Hamish and Christian (this was before the Francois revelation) carefully disassembled a square of parquetry.
The girls and I put Charlie’s letters, Harmony’s letters and journals, and Marie’s and Aileen’s journals, with Aileen’s clippings into the box.
I also put the engagement ring Charlie gave Harmony in that box.
Battle and I rested it under the floorboards.
On top of it, Prue put a picture she drew of them, Great-Granddad in his uniform, Harmony in a pretty summer dress, walking together out in the gardens of The Downs.
Chassie placed one of her bouquets on top of that. The bouquet had white lilies (which she shared denoted purity) and red roses (obviously those symbolized love).
On top of the flowers, Ravenna placed a polished rose quartz shaped in a heart with the two-snakes-entwined symbol carved on it that she told us represented two interwoven spirits.
So yeah.
That worked.
Once all of that was laid to rest, the men carefully replaced the parquet square.
And then we all went to the plum parlor for a drink.
We did this leaving Charlie and Harmony in the place where they met, the place where they fell in love…
Resting together for (maybe) eternity.
How did I handle this in my book?
Obviously, I had to get mystical about it.
I left in the happy but sad ending.
I left out the homicide.
I wasn’t sure how my editor would take the hints of magic in it, but she loved it.
It sold huge (maybe because word got out I’d fallen in love with the current duke while writing it, not hard since I was wearing his ring and living with him, but I preferred to think it was because the book was good, and Charlie and Harmony’s story was compelling).
I sold the option for that too, a single season for streaming.
And at the premiere, I wore another fantastic dress.
But as was Battle’s magic, as ever, the photographers went away with essentially nothing.
Battle did not get into Harry and Scotty’s shit for not doing what it would be impossible for them to do: somehow intuit danger on a several hundred-acre estate and move to handle it.
He already knew there were vulnerabilities in their security. Namely if someone wanted to take the long trek sidling through the property of one of the attached farms owned by the duchy that didn’t have tall fences protecting them from access to the parkland, outbuildings and the big house.
This being what Chelsea’s hired stalker did.
What Battle did do was augment the security so there were more cameras monitored by the company he contracted with for the front gate.
He boosted this by getting me my own dog who he left with me at The Downs, and who just stayed at The Downs even if I wasn’t there, in order for that pooch to keep alert for whoever Battle loved who was there.
It was an Old English Sheepdog. I allowed Prue to name him.
She chose Crispin.
Don’t ask me why.
But Crispie he became.
And I adored him.
We all did.
Including Bartholomew.
Battle also made a change to the studio.
He had curtains added on the windows.
And as I worked on my next book, the one after that, and the one after that (you get me), we utilized them.
Often.
We also put a fair effort into besting his challenge to have sex in every room of The Downs.
But with so many people around, this wasn’t easy.
That said, there were so many people around.