Epilogue
“Uncle Finn!” Marjorie shot through the door of the drawing room, with barely enough time for the party in question to set down his whisky before his cousin’s daughter launched herself at him.
“Marjorie! Really! Manners!” exclaimed Mrs. Hardcastle, who followed in her train.
“It is Uncle Finn, Grandmama,” exclaimed Marjorie. “We never hold ourselves on ceremony with him.” She disengaged herself and directed a piercing look at her honorary uncle. Then she dipped her head and gracefully curtsied to him.
Unable to restrain a laugh, Finn pulled her again into an embrace. “No, never any ceremony. I am delighted to see you. And I shall be terribly dull and prosaic by observing that you have shot up at least two inches since we last met. How long has it been now? A year, at least!”
“I am growing, Uncle Finn. My mama says I look to become as tall as Papa one day.”
In response to that observation, her father looked up from the decanter where he had begun pouring a glass of sherry for his future mother-in-law and gave a rueful grin. “I may have produced a future giantess.”
“Nonsense,” replied said Mama, making her entrance into the room. She crossed over to Finn and gave him a curtsy. He bowed in reply, took her hand, and gave it a kiss. “More of an Athena, I should expect.”
Finn met her blue eyes frankly and felt his lips curving up into a wider smile than before.
He could see some faint smudges of fatigue around her eyes, but Aurora’s manner—yes, she had become Aurora to him now, in his mind—was relaxed and assured.
He watched her eyes search immediately for the corner of the room where Alec was, and he saw her contentment deepen.
The look between his cousin and his future bride was warm and intimate, with a faint sizzle around the edges.
Manners, Finn, though it was an effort to pull his gaze away from that silent exchange.
Aurora had moved toward her mother, gently assisting her as she took her seat. Alec crossed the room a few seconds later, bearing the sherry. Mrs. Hardcastle looked from one to the other and said, with a touch of astringency, “I am not an invalid. You fuss over me altogether too much.”
“Never,” said Aurora.
“Not possible,” added Alec.
Mrs. Hardcastle accepted the sherry and the shawl which Aurora retrieved from the back of the chair and settled it around her mother’s shoulders. “Humph,” was all Mrs. Hardcastle said.
“So, what exactly are the hours which you keep in the country?” remarked Finn, attempting to change the subject.
“Very informal,” stated Aurora. “When we are en famille, we are, well, en famille. So, we will be heading to an early supper shortly, and Marjorie will be joining us.”
“I like the country ever so much more than being in London,” put in Marjorie. She walked up to Aurora, gave her a quick hug, then darted over to her father, who gathered her up into a tight embrace.
“What were you about today, imp?” Alec asked her, after planting a smacking kiss on her cheek and releasing her. As Marjorie began to share the details of her day, Aurora crossed over to both of them. Finn saw that the three of them made a unit, a family.
Finn felt an odd lurch in his stomach as he watched the scene play out in front of him.
This was neither the cold and rough atmosphere of Alec’s childhood, nor the rather harum-scarum state of his cousin’s usual housekeeping, as he struggled in the role he had embraced as a sole parent to the daughter he clearly adored. No, this was something new.
Was that a tinge of envy he felt? He had been so sure last year that he was completely comfortable setting himself up as a Nonpareil and contracting a marriage which would suit the Ton.
Which meant a purely business arrangement, with the hope of warmth and fondness but no guarantee, and not to be demanded or even looked for.
How far he had traveled in learning about himself this past year.
Yes, at the end of the day, what he saw with Alec, Aurora, and Marjorie, he wanted for himself.
And de’il take it, he was not ready to blithely discard it, regardless of his dukedom.
He also realized his desire might be hopeless.
The vapidity and blankness of so much of what passed for eligible London now left him cold.
“Another, cousin?” Alec’s question roused him from the rabbit hole he had cast himself down.
“Oh, no. This is sufficient for now. If you don’t mind my saying so, this is a decidedly fine glass of whisky.”
“I am so glad you appreciate it, Your Grace. In addition to his books, my late husband’s cellar was an indulgence he took great pride in.
He cultivated his palate with the same intensity and seriousness that he applied to all his endeavors.
” Mrs. Hardcastle spoke with both pride and wistfulness.
She had clearly gained confidence dealing with members of the Ton since Finn had first met her at that painful visit nearly a year prior.
Her firm, gentle care and solicitude of her husband was something he had remarked on at that time: no pretense or performance, simply a consideration which did her and her family a great credit.
He could see where Aurora derived some of those qualities.
Moore the butler took this moment to enter and announce that dinner was served.
Finn moved immediately to Mrs. Hardcastle to offer her his arm to escort her into the dining room.
Marjorie followed in their wake. Finn turned briefly at the door to see Alec walk up to Aurora, take her arm, and give her the lightest, lingering kiss.
Aurora’s mouth leaned into his, and Finn abruptly withdrew his gaze.
Again. That lurch happened once more in his belly.
Envy. A wish. A sudden ache of loss for what he had not yet found.
He turned to look at Mrs. Hardcastle as they stepped into the dining room. She was observing him, but there was no criticism. A brief moment of appraisal, then she gently patted his arm and directed him to lead her to her seat.
The talk around the table was relaxed and filled with humor.
All too soon, however, dinner ended, Mrs. Hardcastle had retired to her room, and Aurora had taken Marjorie up for bed.
“I shall see you shortly, imp,” was all her father said.
Then, stepping to the sideboard, he poured a glass of port for Finn and for himself.
With both men suitably equipped, Alec led him out into the garden which ran along the back of the house.
The night air was pleasantly cool, but not too cold.
Summer was creeping in. Finn could hear a nightingale calling from a tree a few yards distant, which was suddenly silenced as the shadow of an owl flew over the lawn.
He took a sip of the port, letting out a contented sigh as it wended its way down his throat.
“I could get used to this, Alec.”
“It is rather wonderful, isn’t it? I know these are early days. And life is, as we know, eternally far from perfect. But it is a wonderful beginning. I feel as if my daughter is safe. Secure.”
“She was that before.”
“Well, yes and no. She had a Papa with barely two groats to rub together.”
“But it is not all about Marjorie.”
“No, it is most deucedly not.” Alec paused. Finn watched his cousin’s ears turn pink. “It most deucedly is not,” he repeated.
“I am happy for you, cousin. More than I could say.”
“I am most grateful that you will stand up with me on Sunday, Finn. You are, in all the ways it is possible to be, my brother. And my best friend. We have seen some adventures, have we not?”
“We have indeed.”
“It feels as if my adventures are to be a bit more prosaic in the future. Not quite the derring-do of the romances I devoured growing up. But—right now? I am content.”
“My mama tells me repeatedly that this was the match she had chosen for you and how, for once in your life, you followed her advice. She is inordinately proud of herself.”
Alec chuckled. “I am sorry your Mama is unwell and cannot be here. Truth to tell, I can’t deny she said to me, ‘You could do worse, Alec,’ that night at the recital where I met Aurora for the first time.
Then, when I realized Aurora knew and appreciated music and might be more than simply a young simpering miss whom I was obliged to set my cap at, as it were—Yes, she was right on this occasion. ”
“I shall most definitely not tell her. She will become unbearable, and I will not be able to occupy the same residence as her.” A pause. “You have always been a dreadful idealist.”
“True. True. Though I never imagined that the knowledge of Greek would prove to be an exemplary trait in a future match.”
“I recall my shock that night at the supper.”
“A bluestocking!”
Both men laughed.
“When I first took Aurora up to Scotland, to visit Selkirk—” Alec stopped, then started again. “Well, we were handfasted when we were there.”
Finn said nothing, and watched his cousin’s face turn to a decided shade of red.
“I don’t know as it was necessary, but I felt, well, that it was the honorable thing to do.”
“You know,” said Finn, “I don’t think the members of the Ton would necessarily believe it to be a requirement, as you were betrothed.”
“Well, I did.” A pause. And then, “I wanted her to know what it would be like, being with me, the nightmares, the war—” his words trailed off.
Finn found his heart cracking open. “How did she react? To the nightmares?”
His cousin’s gentle tone led Alec to lift his head to meet Finn’s eyes. “It is an adjustment. I have frightened her a few times. But the dreams have been getting a bit better. I feel safer, having her near.”
Finn let out an exhale, suddenly aware he had been holding his breath.
“That relieves me more than I can say, Alec. She is young, but she has her feet firmly planted. She loves you; a fool could see that. I can also see that she will fight for you. I don’t know, with the exception of myself, that you have ever truly had that before.
So, it does not surprise me that your sleep is no longer as badly disturbed.
You are no longer alone. Mayhap for the first time. ”
He couldn’t keep the rueful note from his voice, and Alec gave him a sweet smile. “I wish the very same for you, Finn. I know the Honorable Miss Wentworth,” his face twisted when he said her name, “did not work…work out. You deserve nothing less than happiness for your own sake.”
“Well, perhaps one day. In the meantime, these next few days are about you, Aurora, and Marjorie. And this new life you are creating.”
“Well, it shall be a busy time. We are thankful again that you will take Marjorie for the next six weeks and then bring her to us in Paris. I have it on good authority she is delighted by the prospect of spending time with you.”
“To be her Uncle Finn is the honor of a lifetime,” Finn said gruffly. “Though to have her largely in my charge for such a period— I will do my best to keep her from mishap or misadventure.”
Alec reached out and clapped him on the arm. “Life is always an adventure with my daughter,” he said. “I trust you implicitly with her, though, yes, she will keep you on your toes.”
Finn smiled, then drained the last of his port. “It was a drive, Alec. I must away to bed. See you in the morning for a ride?”
“Yes. We keep country hours here so do not be afraid to come down early. We shall likely be in the breakfast room, planning the details of our respective days.”
“Good night, Alec.”
“Good night, Finn.” In a lower tone, he added, “I am more grateful than I can say, that you are here.”
“Always,” was Finn’s reply. He turned and headed towards the house, leaving Alec alone with the nightingale and the owl and the last of his port. He was quite certain, however, that his cousin would not be by himself in the night for much longer.