Epilogue

EPILOGUE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

O livia was certain she had never seen so much felicity in one room as she did on the day when her friend Miss Edith Templeton wed Lord Becksford.

The autumn air was crisp and refreshing, and because the temperatures had yet to dip despicably low, the bride and bridegroom had opted to hold their wedding breakfast out of doors. Large white tents with gorgeous silk canopies provided shelter for the guests, and Olivia was vaguely reminded of the house party at the Dowager Countess of Langford's estate.

It seemed she was always coming back to that week, reminiscing about one detail of the event or another, and as she watched her friend hold hands with her husband and smile jubilantly, Olivia found many reasons to be grateful for the dowager countess and her matchmaking abilities.

"What are you thinking just now?" John asked as he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

They were already sitting dangerously close to one another, perhaps even a tad too close by Society standards. Most husbands and wives kept a proper, respectable distance from one another when out and about, but John had flatly refused to sit on the other side of the table when there was a vacant chair at her side. Daring the censure of their tablemates, Benedict and Rose, he had discreetly placed his hand in her lap, and for the past five minutes, he had been kneading her inner thigh, making it quite difficult to focus on anything, even the happiness of all those gathered around them.

"I am thinking that if someone should catch you caressing my thigh, they will call you a scoundrel and declare you to be a very bad, extremely wicked man."

He guffawed before lifting his chin proudly. "'Tis nothing I have not heard before."

"But what of my virtues?" She batted her eyelashes coquettishly at him. "Did you not once tell me that you admired my tenacity to hold onto my morals?"

John quirked his left eyebrow and gave her an impish smile. "Did I say that?"

She giggled. Now that their love had blossomed, it was flourishing. She could flirt and tease her husband endlessly, and always…always, he would respond in kind. She scooted even nearer to him, and that action evidently excited him because he gripped her thigh harder and worked his fingertips lower.

"We cannot do this here," she gasped, doing her level best to keep her voice lower than a whisper.

"I shall stop if you tell me truly what you were thinking before."

She was wearing a very fine satin dress that was made of a supple buttercup yellow fabric, but as his fingers moved toward her center, slip sliding over the silky material, creating a warm sensation every time he touched her, she realized she did not want him to stop.

"I was thinking of…"

She paused intentionally, drawing out the suspense, hoping that he would continue his ministrations. She even inched her legs further apart, granting him better access. He grinned gleefully, giving her exactly what she desired, making it difficult to hold herself steady and keep her voice even.

"I was thinking of…" Just then he pulled his hand away from her, and a squawk of protest rose to her lips.

But before she could utter the sound, his fingers crept along the length of her skirt. She was thankful, so very much, that the fine white tablecloths draped all the way to the grass because John's fingers clawed at her skirt, lifting it to her knees, making it so he could move his hand back into place, but this time, touch her exposed skin.

"Go on," he prompted, winking at her, likely encouraging her both to finish her thought as well as find pleasure in the way he was manipulating her body.

"I was just remembering…" She gasped as he pressed his index finger to her center.

Then, before she could draw any real attention to herself or fully appreciate what he had just managed to do so very discreetly, she glanced up to see her mother and the Dowager Countess of Langford standing behind Rose and Benedict. "I was just thinking of you ."

John halted his finger movements abruptly. He had been watching her, taking delight, no doubt, in seeing her come undone in front of all these people, but when she finally managed to complete her sentence, he paused and followed her gaze.

The dowager countess laughed pertly. "Do not stop what you were doing on my account." She looked from John to Olivia knowingly.

"We were…we were just having a conversation," Olivia hurried to say. "John asked me what I was thinking, and I told him I was remembering the week we all spent at your house a few months ago."

"Yes," the dowager murmured, "I am sure my house party was preoccupying your thoughts."

"But it was," Olivia insisted. She looked up at the dowager and met her gaze. "I can do two things at once, you know."

Delighted by this witty comeback, the dowager countess tipped her head back and laughed gleefully. Then, she eyed the vacant chairs at the table. "Your mother and I would care to join you…that is…if you will permit us."

"Yes, of course." John jumped from his seat belatedly, owing to the fact that he needed to snake his hand out from underneath Olivia's skirts once more. He circled round the table, pulling out the chairs for both dowagers. "It is good to have you with us this morning. Auntie Aggie. And dear Mama."

Over the last few months, once she had come to visit with them at Frontershire Manor, John had taken to calling Olivia's mother by the affectionate term, and she rather liked knowing that he got along so well with her beloved mother.

"Did you enjoy the ceremony?" Rose asked, joining the conversation as the ladies settled themselves into their seats.

"It was lovely," Mama said sweetly.

"What was not to love?" the dowager countess added. "Two of my very own made their match at my soiree, and here they are…months later…smiling as if they could not be happier."

"I do think Edith and Lord Becksford are happy," Olivia chimed in. "I knew she felt affection for him months ago, and she looked forward to being his bride, but look at them now." She nodded at the head table where the couple sat close together, gazing into each other's eyes.

"It is good to see so much happiness," the dowager countess murmured, "especially after I heard just this morning that an old friend of ours has lately been down on her luck."

"Agatha," Mama rebuked lightly. "When we were told that bit of information, you swore you would not spread the gossip any further."

"But we are amongst friends," the dowager pouted. "And loving family members. If I cannot share what I know with them, how can I…"

"Oh, go on," Olivia's mother said, waving her gloved hand dismissively. "They should all find out soon enough as it is, I imagine."

The Dowager Countess of Langford leaned forward, and Olivia did the same, wanting to keep their circle close. "It has just reached my ears that Lady Emerton and her daughter, Lady Abigail, have cause to celebrate."

"They do?" Olivia was genuinely surprised. She had not thought of either woman in months, and since the dowager had banished them from her house, thereby tainting their reputations in Society as well, she would not have figured they would have caught the dowager's attention just now.

But she was positively bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued with her explanation. "When first they left the countryside, the pair went to France. It is believed that Lord Emerton was furious because of their connivances, and he would not agree to take his meals with them. So, they spent the rest of the summer in France, but then, almost as soon as they returned to town, Lady Abigail was invited to a musicale and…"

"And?" Rose prompted.

"Can you not guess?" the dowager teased. Olivia and Rose both shook their heads, not even bothering to venture a conjecture. "During the performances, Lady Abigail slipped away, and…she was discovered during the intermission."

"Doing what?" Olivia just had to ask.

"That is the crux of the story," the great lady continued. "Apparently, she and Lord Ridgewell were in the study together and…"

"Ridgewell?" John interrupted the story, so he could add his two cents. "But I did not think he had it in him to take advantage of a lady."

"Right you are," the dowager said, keeping her voice low. "It seems that when Lady Emerton arrived at the study and flung open the door, ready to accuse the lord of ruining her daughter, she found Lady Abigail there with the stablemaster."

"Ah!" Olivia gasped. "So, Ridgewell is safe?" She had not seen her old friend in months, but she remembered the kindness he had shown her when he came to visit. He had kept her company occasionally during the height of her loneliness.

"He is," the dowager confirmed.

"But Lady Abigail and the stablemaster?" Rose pressed.

The dowager raised both her hands high and made a motion as if she was laying off the subject. "That is all I know."

"No," Olivia groaned. "But that is not the end of the story. Surely, it cannot be. You said there was cause to celebrate, so that must mean…What happened to Lady Abigail? Did her mama force her to marry the stable master, and did she…"

"We may never know," the Dowager Countess of Langford said in an eerie, bewitching tone. "Lady Emerton and her daughter will never be admitted to our Society going forward, and so we should not bother ourselves thinking of their trifling affairs."

Olivia's mama snickered. "So, you use them for a bit of gossip and then…"

"I use them for nothing," the dowager corrected. "Those two women brought this trouble upon themselves, and we are only too lucky that their scheming worked out poorly for them but grandly for us." She reached forward and grasped a crystal flute that was filled with wine. "We should celebrate their folly today, for it led to our felicity. Let us raise a glass to Lord and Lady Frontershire…the one good thing that came from Lady Emerton and Lady Abigail's horrible scheming."

John picked up a glass, as did all the others at the table, but Olivia refrained.

After taking a small sip, the dowager looked at Olivia critically. "It is bad luck not to drink a toast when it is offered in your favor, darling."

"But I cannot drink wine just now," Olivia explained. "My stomach has been unsettled lately and…" She broke off when Rose giggled. "What?" She eyed her cousin.

"I have watched you pick at your food today, Cousin, and I wondered if…" Her words trailed away as the two young ladies shared a look of understanding.

As the look spread around the table Mama smiled gleefully, and the Dowager Countess of Langford showed her joy by giving Olivia an approving nod. But apparently, John was bewildered.

He asked, "What is happening? Why have you stopped eating, and should I be worried about your upset stomach?"

"I shall be well…soon enough," Olivia said as she sent a dazzling smile in his direction.

"What does that mean?" John demanded.

Benedict laughed loudly. "I believe that is your wife's way of telling you she is with child, Frontershire."

"You…you are? We are?"

Olivia nodded. Her own joy was only matched by John's at that moment. Olivia could tell he was thrilled because he hopped from his seat, punched both arms in the air, and shouted triumphantly.

That was when Frederick made his appearance. "What are we celebrating?" he asked, looking from John to Olivia.

"So many things," John replied, turning and giving his wife the best, brightest smile she had ever seen grace his face. "We are celebrating so many wonderful, incredible things."

The End?