Epilogue

Hasterleigh had never seen such a celebration in the last hundred years. It was June and the whole village was invited to the Earl of Rokeby's marriage to Miss Leonora Appleby. The Abbey doors and windows had been flung open, the floors swept, the magnificent drawing room painted a celadon green to reflect the vista beyond the full-length windows of parterre and rolling grass sward leading to the glittering lake. The house was filled to overflowing with flowers from the orchard and meadows, and roses from the Vicarage, Manor and every village garden.

It had been a summer of weddings and Leonora's was the last and the largest, mingling Society grandees with the villagers and tenant farmers. Lady Bucklebury kept her promise and travelled down to attend her grandson's celebration, bearing her ancestral diamond tiara as a present for Leonora. ‘Every countess deserves a crown,' she said with a smile.

Charlotte and George Lockwood had married the previous month in a smaller ceremony that filled the Manor with flowers and laughter. Charlotte had effortlessly assumed her role as wife and chatelaine of the house but was equally as interested in George's plans for his arboretum, spending days with him tramping across the hundred-acre field, marking the planting positions for each tree, to return to the Manor windblown, her cheeks glowing from the sun.

Curate Fopling and his new wife Rose had insisted on a modest ceremony followed by a wedding feast amongst the trees. On assuming control of the Fopling estate, the first thing Richard and Rose had done was remove every trace of the ferocious animal and mantraps, and this party was a celebration of the woodland returning to its natural sense of sanctuary and beauty. It had been decided that Leonora and Lord Rokeby would lead the main dance through the trees, with Achille, sporting a red cravat, bounding beside them.

Until she was married and could move into Rokeby Abbey as the new Countess of Rokeby, Leonora, with Mrs Priddy, continued to live for a few more weeks in the guest wing of the Manor. During the day, Mrs Priddy made herself useful to Charlotte with her household managing skills, and every afternoon Leonora slipped from the Manor to go swimming in the lake, and there she met Alistair Rokeby. Together they dived into the cool dark waters to set out for the mysterious island in the centre that seemed to shimmer like a mirage on the cloud-reflecting surface of the lake. The Earl loved swimming as much as Leonora did and they played together like dolphins diving and gambolling in the silky water.

On the day of her wedding, Leonora wore a dress specially commissioned from Mrs Marmery of Windsor and was astonished how the pearly gauze, lace and ribbon enhanced her russet hair, making her translucent skin glow. Was it just the dress or was it happiness? she wondered as she luxuriated in the pleasure of her new-found beauty. At their first sight of each other, her noble husband seemed mesmerised by her presence. As soon as the ceremony was over, he caught her round the waist and whisked her behind a particularly tall flower arrangement and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, as she slipped her bare arms around his neck. He murmured against her skin, ‘I am lost as a flame is lost in light.'

Leonora lifted his head and kissed him. ‘But you're still a flame, my darling Lord Rokeby.'

He was kissing her throat. ‘You certainly inflame my passion, Leonora.' She threaded her fingers through his hair as he continued, ‘How long before we can decorously excuse ourselves from our party so I can take my delectable new Countess to my bed?'

She giggled with pleasure at the thought. ‘Not until we have bidden goodnight to our last guests. Your grandmother is here, don't forget.'

Alistair Rokeby whispered in her ear, ‘She certainly would approve. Surely we won't be missed during one of those interminable reels?' His arm was tight round her waist, holding her to him. Laughing, Leonora wriggled free and they walked, their arms entwined, to take their place at the head of their wedding feast.

After the food had been eaten, the speeches made, and the dancing had become more abandoned as the night wore on, Alistair Rokeby took his wife's hand. With his other, he grasped two glasses and a bottle of champagne and led her through to the gallery to stand before the portrait of his brother, Charles. Handing a glass to Leonora, he took one for himself and together they looked up at the handsome dark youth, magnificent in his full hussar regalia, in easy control of his rearing warhorse, with Rokeby Abbey in the misty distance.

‘Charles, meet the new Countess. She more than fills dear Mama's shoes and fills my heart to overflowing.' He raised his glass and quaffed the champagne in one draught.

Leonora turned to her husband and said shyly, ‘Alistair, you may want to tell your brother too that a possible new heir is already on his way.'

He swung round to face her, his expression sparkling with disbelief and joy. ‘Are you sure?'

‘As sure as I can be this early.' Her eyes were shining.

‘So all that clandestine swimming together in your favourite lake has borne fruit!' He laughed, then gave a triumphant shout and swept her off her feet in front of the imperious portrait. ‘See, Charles! See what a naughty, minxy wife I have!'

Leonora was laughing in his arms. ‘So we're not too old after all!'

‘No, indeed. Not too old at all.' He kissed her full on the lips. ‘Wait!' he said, his face filled with delight. ‘This means it will be our baby who will be awarded Nanny P's christening shawl.'

‘How could it have gone to anyone else? It's a work of love made by someone who has loved me all my life.' Leonora's expression was ecstatic as she extricated herself from his arms. ‘But let's not tell her or anyone until a respectable time has elapsed.'

‘You've got it all worked out, haven't you? My darling Lady Rokeby.'

‘Only to protect your reputation,' she protested.

Alistair Rokeby laughed. ‘Of that, I'm past caring. Let them call me the Wicked Earl for seducing Hasterleigh's favourite maiden before I even married her!'

Leonora put a finger across his lips, her eyes mischievous. ‘A maiden no longer, my lord; now a woman, and with child.'

He hugged her close. ‘Thank you for loving me, Leonora. The house is alive again. I am alive again, and the Abbey once more will echo with laughter and childish chatter, all because of you.' He took her hand. ‘But now, my utterly irresistible Lady of the Lake, I wish to share with you the even greater pleasures of love on dry land.' He led her down the gallery past the watching ancestors and up the staircase to the first floor, where the noble Rokeby bed awaited.