Epilogue
Fennyman loved seeing the Duke of Rivers happy.
The truth was he adored the old boy. He was as good as they came. Fennyman lifted his glass of champagne as Rivers charged up and down the hall, holding his bottle, drinking from the neck.
Lord Philip also had a bottle and was drinking his.
Harlowe was doing the funniest of dances, something he had learned from one of Lord Philip’s friends, a chorus girl.
Harlowe was enjoying life very much these days, and Fennyman was glad to see it.
The man was loosening his rigid manners day by day, month by month, and Fennyman wondered what he’d be like in a year’s time. Perhaps he could no longer be a butler.
Fennyman rather liked the idea of Harlowe joining him in the East End, working at the club and abandoning decorum.
But he didn’t know what Rivers would do without the fellow. Rivers had spent so long without friends or company, relying on his butler to make everything come true and give him conversation.
And there was one thing that was definitely certain. It was time for Rivers to be happy. Really and truly happy.
Oh, he’d seen it not long ago, after Skyburn’s match, when Rivers had contemplated his own picture and almost put it up on the wall. Rivers had almost realized it was time for himself to make a match.
Fennyman smiled. Rivers had no idea what was about to come.
“We did it,” Rivers exclaimed.
Lord Philip nodded.
“Indeed, we did. Close going there,” Harlowe said with a vibrant bow.
Philip blew out a relieved breath. “Who would have thought that one of our arranged marriages might not end in perfection?” he said.
“It only took a bit more time,” Rivers said, clearly trying to forget how he had nearly panicked. “You see, it all worked out.”
Fennyman nodded and winked at him. “Indeed, Your Grace. It does always work out for you, for all of us.”
“That’s right,” Rivers said. “And perhaps soon, Fennyman, bells might ring for you.”
Rivers waggled his brow. “After all, I can only imagine what you would be like with a perfect wife.”
Fennyman wagged a warning finger at the duke. “Oh, Your Grace, I would not wish myself upon any lady.”
Rivers nodded. “Yes, yes. I can understand why,” he said, “Very serious and all that.”
But then Rivers winked at Lord Philip and Fennyman had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling indeed.
Three years later
It had not been easy slowing down.
It had not been easy backing off all the tasks that she was used to accomplishing every day to sustain her mother. She didn’t need to sustain her mother any longer.
Family did that.
That was a new concept to her, that family actually took care of each other.
Pierce had given her his whole heart.
And, shockingly, he also gave a son’s heart to Nancy’s mother. Indeed, Nancy’s mother and Pierce were happy as two peas in a pod and going on walks together every day.
Three years ago, she had been certain that her mother was on death’s door. Now, her mother seemed to have kindled a vital excitement about life, writing her own poetry, going to salons, buying books, and supporting poets with the pocket money that Pierce gave her.
As Nancy and her husband sat in the beautiful townhome she had organized, welcoming in guests to their son’s christening party, she couldn’t stop the wave of love she felt for the little boy who was bouncing on her husband’s lap.
Pierce looked pleased as punch, and the boy looked beautiful and strong. She loved them both in a way that she never could have imagined. The love that she felt was so intense, so powerful, so, well, primal.
She knew there was no going back. Her life had changed utterly and entirely, all because of Pierce. And her new friends.
All because he had fallen in love with her and she with him.
Because he hadn’t been looking for the daughter of an earl or even someone to organize his life.
He had been looking for someone who could go toe to toe with him, who could banter with him, who could laugh at the world and somehow make sense of it when it made no sense at all.
And together they did make sense of it. No matter how painful it was, no matter how strange, how harshly people acted, she and Pierce went hand in hand, watching the world go by, doing the best they could to make the dreams of their friends come true.
And Pierce had stayed true to his word.
He met with Eileen and Victoria and Pansy, and he asked them about society and what was going on in it. And he always listened, and he always tried his best. He always made the attempt, as he had claimed, to change things.
Given the slow-moving, stubborn nature of the ton, change almost never happened. That was brutal. That was painful.
But Pierce and herself and their son, they were a change. And she believed that together, somehow, that was all what mattered.