Epilogue #2
‘And that’s one each, I said,’ she snapped at Jim, tapping his fingers as he tried to pick up not one, not two, but four macaroons. ‘There’s got to be enough to go around!’
‘You can always make more,’ wheedled Jim with what he evidently thought was a begging smile.
It was Calliope this time who giggled as the two of them walked farther along the garden, the shouts of laughter from the bathing pool echoing around them.
‘I just can’t believe you’ve created all this,’ she said wistfully, as the sounds of music starting to drift on the air. ‘Are those musicians?’
Ditty nodded, face beaming. ‘Turns out, half the residents play instruments and all I had to do was—’
‘You know, this life suits you,’ interrupted Calliope, that wistful look still on her face. ‘I mean it. I think you made the right decision, coming here. Building a life here. Falling in love. Preparing to become a duchess.’
Ditty flushed. It sounded strange when her sister put it like that, but she couldn’t deny the truth. She had never expected to come to Brexley and fall in love. She had come to work: to create the best proposal anyone had ever seen. To be the best proposal planner.
And she had. But it hadn’t only been Charles’s and Miss Yorke’s hearts which had been affected that day.
Ditty saw Mavis approach them and hissed hurriedly under her breath, ‘Now, whatever you do—’
‘Here, you’re the artist, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, that’s me,’ said Calliope brightly. ‘Why, do you need an artist?’
Mavis grinned and winked at Ditty before grabbing Calliope’s arm. ‘Come on, I need someone else who can decorate a cake.’
‘But I—’
‘Be careful with her, Mavis,’ Ditty said cheerfully.
Her sister looked horrified. ‘But, Ditty, I’ve never baked a cake in my—’
‘I keep telling you, you need a rest,’ Ditty said sternly, trying not to laugh at the panic rising in her sister’s expression. ‘Consider this your long weekend rest—of a kind!’
* * *
Ditty was giggling at her sister’s predicament when Henry came upon her, just past the kitchen garden.
His heart soared. She was just wonderful. It was hard to imagine the Lodge without her now, and he hoped he never would have to.
Of course, that question was about to be finally put to bed.
‘There you are,’ Henry said impulsively, grabbing at her from behind and lowering her into a romantic dip.
Ditty shrieked with the surprise and grabbed at his neck, her fingers curling behind it as she held on. ‘Henry!’
He laughed with her, unable to believe he had this wonderful woman in his life. What were the chances? Here she was, a Londoner—or at least, someone who had lived in London—coming out here to the little town of Brexley, all to help his brother of all people get engaged. And now…
‘Your romance lessons are coming on apace, then,’ Ditty teased, as he righted her and slipped an arm about her waist. ‘I told you, there’s always a formula.’
Henry rolled his eyes. ‘So you keep telling me. Come on, I want to show you something.’
Excitement started building in his chest as he led her away from his residents, the shouts of laughter by the bathing pool, the contented munching of Reg’s and Mavis’s food, the delight of those just starting to enter the sunshine.
This was it. He had promised himself it would be today, and—
‘Don’t tell me there’s going to be a proposal,’ said Ditty with a laugh.
Henry halted just outside the craft room, its door shut, as his heart skipped a beat.
‘Well, actually,’ he said quietly, turning to look at Ditty. ‘Yes.’
Her eyes widened. She had evidently been joking, and had not expected him to agree. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Well, maybe not exactly a proposal. There’s a fresh notebook in the craft room,’ Henry said wisely, knowing precisely what she would want. ‘Why don’t you go grab it?’
She grinned. ‘You always think of everything.’
She stepped away, threw open the door to the craft room and— ‘Oh, Henry!’
‘Not quite everything,’ he murmured, his heart skipping a beat.
Ditty stepped into the craft room. It was filled to the rafters…with daisies.
He followed her and closed the door behind them. There were a great many things he would share with his residents, but this precise moment wasn’t one of them.
‘Ditty Oliver,’ he said quietly, lowering himself onto bended knee.
Ditty turned to face him, shock and delight on her face. ‘Henry!’
‘No, you’re going to have to let me say this without interruption,’ he warned her with a grin. ‘I’ve practiced and everything, but you know what I’m like.’
She breathed a laugh, her eyes filling with tears. He hoped that was a good sign.
‘My life entirely changed when you arrived at Brexley,’ Henry said simply. It wasn’t a complicated speech, after all. Just a heartfelt one. ‘And I never thought I would find someone who understood me, who cared for me as you do. As you have. As…as I hope you will for a very long time.’
Ditty did not look away as Henry slowly pulled out a notebook.
‘Is that—’
‘What did I say about interrupting?’ Henry said with a mock severe tone.
Ditty laughed, a tear finally falling down her cheek, but she nodded.
He took a deep breath. ‘Ditty, you are my everything. I wish I could have given you the perfect proposal, but I didn’t need to. Because you are perfect. And though our lives may not always be so, I can’t wait to finally start organising them together. So…so will you marry me?’
‘I’ve already said I will marry you,’ Ditty breathed.
And he grinned. ‘Yes, I know, but I actually meant now. Today.’
Before he could quite get the last word out, Ditty had pulled him to his feet and thrown her hands around his neck.
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice muffled by his hair. ‘Yes, Henry. I will marry you.’
He kissed her passionately, desperately, knowing that this was the last kiss they would share before they became man and wife.
That was when the doors burst open and everyone entered the room.
‘I knew it!’
‘Who would have thought the man could prepare anything?’
‘Excuse me, please, coming through. I’m the reverend!’
There was suddenly a stricken look on his beloved’s face. ‘But my mother, Thalia—’
‘Thalia could not be persuaded to get on a coach, and your mother, I am almost terrified to say, has gone to Weymouth,’ Henry said, trying not to grin. ‘Apparently she would not wait.’
Ditty smiled as she groaned. ‘My family! What on earth are we going to do with them?’
‘Nothing. They’ll sort out their own troubles, I am sure, in time,’ said Henry firmly. ‘And in the meantime, we have a wedding to attend.’
The woman he loved was laughing, pulling his notebook from his hands. ‘You truly have planned everything!’
‘I don’t want to go another day without you being my wife,’ he said simply. ‘Dr and Mrs Paisley. The Duke and Duchess of Glanyrafon. I don’t care what you call us, I just want you to be mine. Forever.’
‘Oh, Henry.’
Their kiss was gentle, warm, loving, and Henry wished it could never end.
‘Ahem,’ said Vicar Melview, with a slightly dour frown that was undermined by the twinkle in his eye. ‘Is everyone ready?’
Henry smiled and took Ditty’s hand in his.
‘I’ve avoided your displeasure long enough,’ she whispered as the crowd behind them quietened for the wedding ceremony to begin. ‘Time to enjoy ourselves for the rest of our lives.’
And his stomach lurching, knowing that their pleasure had only just begun, Henry grinned. ‘Forever.’