Epilogue
THE DOUBLE WEDDING between the Darby brothers and the Brooks sisters was quite the event for gossip among the neighborhood, but neither family minded very much.
How could they, when the brides were so beautifully blissful and the bridegrooms so deliriously devoted?
They were love matches as well as fortunate ones, and to have both was such a delight for all stations and opinions that there was nothing for any to object to.
There was some confusion as to the transformation that had taken over Mr. Darby, given his proclivity toward brooding and reserve as well as restraint in expression, yet with his bride, he was doting and expressive as well as smiling.
No one was surprised by Mr. Silas Darby’s behavior toward his bride, given their history and friendship.
Their laughter and smiles were to be expected, but it was the frequency with which they touched each other, either with lips or fingers, that was different.
Friendship had been witnessed for many years, but this open affection was new and slightly disconcerting.
Not inappropriate by any stretch, just the sort of behavior that raised a questioning brow.
It was a beautiful wedding; on that score, everyone agreed. Mrs. Darby declared she had two sons with promising futures and prospects, leading the guests to inquire as to Mr. Silas Darby’s future.
Word began to spread that he had indeed inherited the enviable legacy of Sinclair House from his uncle, and it was such a shock, such a fortuitous change in situation, that grumbling began about the lack of opportunity for other young ladies to try for his hand.
It was a ridiculous notion, of course. No woman would ever have done for him but Caroline Brooks, and she was the rightful mistress of Sinclair House. And his heart.
Susannah Brooks was a gentle, soft soul who, everyone agreed, would make a perfect mistress of Ivywood when the time came.
Demure and delicate, but without any of the fragility that might have accompanied someone of that nature.
And with the way Mr. Darby doted on her, she would never want for anything, tangible or otherwise.
She had never been more beautiful or smiled more brightly than on her wedding day, and it was clear to all that Mr. Darby was the very hero of her heart.
Silas and Caro removed to Sinclair House immediately after the wedding, desperate to begin the future they had always dreamed of without further consideration to anyone’s opinions or machinations.
Silas’s uncle adored Caro from the moment he met her, and if the legacy had not been secure before the wedding day, it was most certainly secured from that introduction forward.
It was another five years before the dear man finally passed away, already a devoted additional grandfather to three of their children at that time.
He claimed it had done his heart good to hear the joyous sounds of children laughing and babies jabbering before he had gone, the home he had crafted finally becoming what he had always dreamed it might.
On his deathbed, he had made Silas promise that he would tie up the place in a legacy to his children, but never press the responsibilities on someone who did not wish for it.
A generous stipulation of funds had already been set aside for the two daughters Caro had given birth to thus far, and he had left instructions to his solicitor to do the same for any further ones.
It was a far more gracious inheritance than either Silas or Caro had anticipated, but their devotion to him had made the gift an easy one to bestow, he claimed.
Three more children followed after that somber day, leaving the Darby brood of Sinclair House to four daughters and two sons, each of them a perfect medley of their parents in looks, in behavior, and in tastes.
They were frequent visitors to their cousins at Ivywood, and their uncle Bas was known to read books with the best voices, give the best hugs, and give the best advice.
Aunt Susannah was far more preferable to their other aunts when a listening ear was needed, or for snuggles, or, in the right seasons, for helping them arrange flowers.
But they adored Sinclair House best of all, and if the young Darby children had learned anything from their parents, it was how to be open with their feelings, honest with their intentions, and unafraid in their affection.
It was a delightful way to grow up, and a marriage like that of their parents was what they all sought.
Oddly enough, Sinclair House hosted a harvest ball every single year without fail, and Caro Brooks Darby was known to wish for an engagement to come out of every single one.
A wish that always, without fail, came true.