Epilogue
T he kites soared into the air as the boys from the East End ran, pulling at the strings.
The rowdy children tugged them this way and that. Their laughter filled the air, as did the laughter of Rufus and Portia’s eldest son, Augustus, who was amongst them.
Gus, too, ran with a kite in hand, the string tugging at his grip.
A wave of joy crashed over Rufus as he stared at his son, who so easily chatted with the other boys as they played. His son was confident, strong, capable, and the boy did not care that he was a future duke who was mingling with commoners.
No. His son thrived wherever he went, and Rufus knew that it was because of Portia and her family.
Rufus glanced at the horizon where she stood. Her hand was at her eyes so that she could see well, even with the bright afternoon sun. She held their youngest child, a little girl, in her arms. The little girl’s blonde curls fluttered in the wind.
Rufus let his own kite soar up in the sky, its tail dancing.
Every day, he grew happier. Each day was another journey. Another step into the future, away from all the pain and the sorrow of the past. Here, joy could exist. Here, he could have friends. Here, he had family.
Several of the Briarwood men had helped the boys from the East End launch their kites just a few moments ago and were currently helping them to fly the sprightly toys properly.
Rufus was no longer someone who only made certain that money arrived at charities. Now, he was someone who not only organized them but actually took part in them.
He and his wife had made certain that children from the East End could be taken out to parkland on the edge of London, giving them time in green spaces so they could run and be free and feel the wind on their faces. The boys could savor the sun and know that they were cared for and that there was a bit of happiness in this world, even when all seemed bleak.
If there was one thing he had learned from his darling wife, the wife he loved so well, it was that happiness was always waiting for one. All they had to do was turn to it and away from the dark.
Gus looked back at him and beamed, his bright eyes shining as he held his string tightly. “Come on, Papa,” he said. “Faster. Let’s race faster.”
Rufus’s heart swelled, then he raced ahead with his son, reveling in the joy of all the boys around him, feeling that, at long last, he had found what he had always been looking for.
Love.
The End