Epilogue
Five Years Later
London
A Most Beautiful Theater
The Marquess of Isleton had indeed been sent to an island, a very small one in the North Sea.
There was apparently nothing upon it except for birds and seals and a great deal of snow in the winter months.
His rather pitiful letters apparently came every now and then and were shoved in a bin somewhere in Parliament.
He hadn’t been given a position. He’d simply been told to provide diplomacy with the locals. Hopefully, he had found a love for flora and fauna.
The Duke of Westleigh was not really a vengeful man, but anyone who hurt his family would pay a price. Muriel admired him for it. How could she not?
And his strength had passed down to his nephews too. Wherever they went, Perseus was there by her side, making her feel secure, making her feel strong. And over the last five years, she had felt safe and secure in every major city in Europe and the United States of America.
They had traveled together, touring sparkling capital after sparkling capital where she had played almost every Shakespeare heroine to rousing cheers and newspaper clippings that cried that she was a genius of the bard.
There were, of course, those who did try to insult her.
She paid no attention to them. They were people of little minds. Why would she bother with people of little minds? She only had interest in those with great ideas and grand hearts.
And so she had taken all the money she had earned and put it where it was needed.
Though they were already fairly well-funded, it gave Muriel great pleasure to support Celia and Emilia and her uncle-in-law, Lord Hector, in their endeavors to help so many know more than dirty back alleys, starving bellies, and starved minds.
For she wished there to be more lovers of Shakespeare, and his understanding of the nature of humanity, in this world. For surely if there were more, the world would be a better place indeed. For how could one not have a better heart if one could understand the human soul?
She did not need money. The Briarwoods had more money than she could ever hope for, but she still liked the fact that she could help so many with her success.
And now, as she stood in the wings of a new, glittering theater that she and Perseus had bought in Covent Garden, she held his hand.
She turned her gaze up to him and smiled. “Are you happy?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, his brow quirking. “What an odd question.”
She pursed her lips and said playfully, “Is there anything more that you might want?”
She already knew the answer.
He blinked, staring at her. “I don’t know what more I could possibly want.”
“Yes, you do,” she said with a slow smile before she took his hand and placed it over her velvet costume at her middle.
“Truly?” he asked, his eyes brightening.
“Yes, truly,” she affirmed, melting into him.
She had been planning this. She was ready now. She wanted a family of her own. She wanted to see her children’s eyes light with the love of theater and art and great literature.
She wanted to see them wandering the wings of a playhouse, just like the other Briarwood children. And she wanted to see a little boy, just like Perseus. For the world needed so many more people like her darling husband.
Somehow, despite all the frailties of humanity, the bad decisions and the cruelties, she felt certain that her family could change the world.
And they would certainly never stop trying.
This had all started with a little letter and a risky request to learn more, and now?
Now she knew that the risk had been worth it. And she would take that risk again and again, because she had Perseus and all the love in the wide, magnificent world.
The End