Epilogue

Could anything be more glorious than an Indian summer in Yorkshire, when the sun was shining and the sky a superb blue? Such days were rare, and to be appreciated and enjoyed all the more for that reason. The Duchess of Northriding sat in her garden in the sunshine with her friend Lady Carston and talked idly, or did not talk, as they shared a rare moment of peace.

It was a family party at the Castle that autumn. All the Pendlebury siblings were present, and the Duke was swiftly coming to understand why it was that persons of a sensitive disposition had been known to start and grow pale and wild-eyed when the names of the three younger boys were mentioned. He, however, was not of a particularly sensitive disposition, and had this afternoon taken all five of his brothers-in-law, Cassandra, Bastian's particular friend Matthew Welby, and his own nephew and niece down the stair to the beach to play a noisy game of cricket. Ten persons, and two very excited dogs. If he had formulated the plan in the hope that the three boys would be exhausted by the activity and less likely to get up to mischief afterwards, mused his wife, he would soon discover that he was sadly mistaken. But no doubt the practice would be good for him: Fred, Jonathan and Hugh were an education in themselves for a man newly embarked on fatherhood.

The thwack of leather on willow and yells of triumph or of protest could faintly be heard in the garden high above the beach, along with volleys of barking from Tam and Nico, but all this presented a pleasant sort of a backdrop when mingled with the soothing sound of the waves and the plaintive cries of sea birds. It was certainly not enough to disturb the sleeping babies, nor Lady Louisa, who was dozing unashamedly in a comfortable chair.

‘Were you up much in the night, Jane?' said Georgie lazily, closing her eyes and basking in the sun. She was tired, but also contented. Life was good.

‘The better question would be, did I get any sleep at all?'

‘She looks so tranquil now, it is almost impossible to imagine.'

‘Monster that she is,' said Miss Eliza Louisa Georgiana Carston's fond mother, looking down on her daughter with an expression of doting idiocy quite at variance with her words. ‘I'm surprised you weren't disturbed by her. As you can see, Louisa was.'

‘Eliza would have had to yell very loudly indeed to make herself heard in our chambers,' replied the Duchess drily. ‘And now they sleep, and we should too, and yet here we are, awake and talking.'

‘And you don't regret a moment of it.'

‘I don't, and nor do you, I can see. Would you contemplate having another, Jane?'

Jane Carston chuckled. ‘Poor Louisa! She has always made it eminently clear how much she dislikes the bustle your brothers create, and what must I do but bring a horrid noisy baby into our lovely, tranquil home. Should I inflict another on her?'

‘Well, that wasn't what I asked.'

‘Yes, of course, the answer is yes. We have discussed it.'

‘Lord Carston joins us in a week or so, does he not?'

‘And it was very good of you to invite him,' said Jane, with a perfectly composed countenance that was undermined somewhat by a wicked twinkle.

Georgie met her eyes and began to laugh. ‘Is he not your husband, and an old friend of my family besides? Of course I invite him. Oh dear! I am sure anybody looking at us now would imagine that we present a picture of perfect respectability.'

‘I may not be terribly respectable, Duchess, but I am sure nobody can say that about you. A duchess, married to a man she adores and who adores her, a mother, decorated by the Regent for her bravery…?'

‘You'd be surprised, I dare say,' said Georgie, with a secret little smile.

‘I dare say I wouldn't be surprised at all. And do you contemplate having another child?'

‘Of course, in a little while,' said the Duchess lazily. ‘There is no terrible urgency to the matter, after all.' And just as she spoke her twin sons, Ash and George – or, to give them their proper titles, His Grace the Marquis of Tollesby and Lord George Mauleverer – awoke together and began to wail for food and for attention, and Miss Eliza was disturbed by the commotion, and all peace was banished for a time.