Epilogue

One Month Later

The Long-Awaited Wedding

Dedicated readers of the gossip columnswill recall the shocking events of the yearly Langley Summer Ball, recently revived thanks to the newest Lord Lanwood.

Naturally, all anyone could speak of was the falling of the great chandelier, narrowly avoiding crushing a house-guest and shaking up Society for years to come. While no injuries were sustained, guests were understandably nervous to return to the Langley Ballroom for a new event – the marriage of Lord Lanwood to one Miss Felicity Thornhill.

The wedding itself was a remarkable affair, extremely grand, and well-reported on by all present. This author particularly enjoyed the air of gaiety, with friends and family attending and joining in the celebrations.

Lord Lanwood and his affianced bride seemed extremely happy, arrayed in matching white and gold brocade. A rather outdated style, but one that suited both extremely well.

Miss Felicity Thornhill – now Lady Felicity Langley, Lady Lanwood herself – made a beautiful picture of happiness, arm in arm with her new husband. Lord Arthur Langley, Lord Lanwood, cut a resplendent figure with his new bride, with his vivid scars seeming almost dashing. The ceremony itself was celebrated by a wedding breakfast at the Langley home, whilst guests eyed the ceilings nervously. This author was relieved to see no chandelier was hung in the ballroom.

However, there is some talk about the marriage between the two. After all, gossip had Lord Lanwood all but engaged to Miss Miranda Sinclair, a beautiful young lady to whom he was once betrothed. Lord Vincent Griffin was similarly connected with Miss Thornhill. Both understandings were abruptly broken off, with Miss Sinclair returning to her family home and Lord Vincent disappearing from the county altogether.

Were they driven off by broken hearts? Perhaps, or perhaps not. Either way, this author is keen to congratulate the newlyweds, and hopes that they find all the happiness two such pleasant young people deserve.

Scandal!

Lord Vincent Griffin, previously considered a wealthy and eligible gentleman, is reported to have been placed in debtor's prison, for non-payment of debts. This author has it on good authority that the gentleman has no means of repaying what he owes, the sum of which runs into the hundreds, if not thousands.

Additionally, it is rumoured that many of these debts have been accrued at gambling tables and during card games. Could these debts be connected to Lord Vincent's well-remarked-upon pursuit of Miss Felicity Thornhill, now Lady Lanwood, and her large fortune? This author believes so.

A narrow escape, Lady Lanwood, very narrow indeed!

Wedding-Bells In The Air?

Miss Miranda Sinclair, a young woman of great misfortune and great beauty, is reported to be consoling herself on the loss of Lord Lanwood – a remarkable match, one snatched from under Miss Sinclair's nose by Miss Felicity Thornhill – by pursing a gentleman in the town of Bath.

Mr. Ferdinard Potts is reported to be a man of extreme wealth, and great wisdom. The gentleman himself is close to sixty years of age, twice widowed, and with a crop of grown-up children. What will those children say about his engagement to a young woman such as Miss Sinclair? We can only wait and see, and rest assured that the readers of this columnwill be given all the news as soon as this author can collect it.

Either way, we are sure that wedding-bells are in the air for Miss Sinclair, with her two younger sisters no doubt soon to follow.

"They're writing about us," Felicity remarked, propping herself up in bed to read the scandal sheets.

Beside her, Arthur was half-asleep, tangled up in blankets and pillows. "And why should we care?" he mumbled.

They were a full week into their honeymoon, with another week yet to go before they would return home.

Or rather, return to Arthur's home, which was Felicity's home now, too. It was a strange thought, but a thrilling one.

On Arthur's bedside table was a mostly drunk cup of herbal tea, something that smelled and tasted unpleasant but had removed one of his most painful headaches in less than fifteen minutes. Felicity was quietly pleased with herself.

Her books, of course, had been returned. She had more, now. More books, more papers, more opportunities. She was no longer a mere Miss Felicity Thornhill, but Lady Lanwood.

And Lady Lanwood had an extensive library.

"An excellent point," she giggled. "I don't much care. Still, I see that Lord Vincent and Miss Sinclair are plumbing respective depths of despair – one in debtor's prison and the other in Bath, pursuing some old wealthy man. I think we both had narrow escapes."

"Agreed," Arthur chuckled, shuffling closer to rest his head against Felicity's shoulder. "And what about the letter from your mother? Are you going to write back?"

Felicity paused, biting her lip.

Her parents had, of course, given their permission for Arthur and her to marry. They'd have been fools not to, and anyway, she could have married without their permission.

The preparation leading up to the wedding had been strained, to say the least. Felicity could not forget that she'd been given a choice between a life of miserable seclusion, without books or company, or marrying a man she despised, who wanted her for her money. She couldn't forget it, and they clearly did not forget it, either.

It was a difficult two months for them all. Mrs. Thornhill had given her daughter an awkward hug before she left, and Mr. Thornhill gave her a few mumbled words of what might have been a blessing.

It felt as though the gap between them had widened into a vast ravine.

The letter might just be a narrow rope-bridge going across the chasm. If she dared risk crossing, of course.

"She said that she was sorry," Felicity said, slowly. "That they were wrong to put me in the situation I was in, but that of course it's too late to change it all. She hopes that I won't forget them, that I'll think kindly of them."

He nodded. "I thought she might say that. And how do you feel?"

"I know I should forgive them."

"That's not what I asked. How do you feel?"

Felicity was silent for a long moment. She slipped her arm around Arthur's neck, fingers weaving through his dishevelled hair in a slow, soothing rhythm.

"I think that when – if – we have children," she said, thoughtfully, "I'll be a very different kind of mother. But in the meantime, I think that I want to forgive them. Mama, especially, acted badly towards me. She hurt me, and my life could have ended very, very differently. But she truly believed that it was the best thing to do. So, I have another choice before. I can hold onto bitterness, hold a grudge, and leave them behind. But I don't… I don't think that will make me happy. Truly, I don't."

"I agree," Arthur said, after a moment of silence. "But it's your decision, Felicity. You're my wife. My partner, not my property."

She leaned down and kissed him. "I love you, Arthur Langley."

The End