Epilogue

EPILOGUE

THREE MONTHS LATER

T he day of Gemma and Frederick’s wedding arrived and the air was thick with excitement. Blackridge had never looked more alive.

The grand estate had been decorated in white and gold, with flowers from the surrounding countryside filling every corner. The ceremony would take place in the chapel on the grounds, a breathtaking structure that seemed to glow with warmth and joy, as if it too was celebrating their union.

Guests from all corners of the ton were in attendance and the atmosphere was vibrant, bustling with laughter, music, and the soft murmur of excited conversation.

It was unlike anything Gemma had ever experienced, the kind of spectacle she had once thought impossible for her. Yet here she was; the center of it all, poised to marry Frederick. Her love, her protector, and the man who had shown her what real happiness was.

As the guests mingled, Gemma caught sight of Elizabeth standing by the large window overlooking the garden. She was deep in conversation with the Dowager Duchess, who was laughing softly at something Elizabeth had said. The two women seemed to be getting along wonderfully, their personalities complementing each other beautifully.

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in to share something, and the Dowager’s quick wit and humor drew more laughter from her. They were a delightful pair, and Gemma felt a sense of relief and happiness knowing that her sister was starting to feel more at home in her new life.

“Gemma, come join us!” Elizabeth called out with a grin.

Gemma smiled and walked towards them, but as she did, she caught sight of Andrew standing by the refreshment table. He was deep in conversation with a few men, but his eyes flickered over to Elizabeth and her grandmother-in-law, when he caught sight of the young lady with the bright smile.

There was something in Andrew’s gaze—something that suggested more than just a friendly interest. Gemma raised an eyebrow, amused, but didn’t say anything as she approached.

Elizabeth also noticed, and without hesitation, she made her way toward him, her curiosity piqued. There was an instant spark between the two of them, and Gemma couldn’t help but smile as she watched their flirtation unfold. Elizabeth had always been a bit shy around men, but Andrew’s easygoing manner seemed to bring out a confidence in her.

“You two are practically glowing,” Vivian teased Gemma. “I am also glad to see Elizabeth so happy.”

“She deserves it,” Gemma said, her voice warm. “She has been through so much, and I am thrilled that she has begun a new chapter in her life. Perhaps Andrew will be part of it.”

The Dowager raised her eyebrows. “Andrew? That could be interesting. He has always been a bit of a flirt.”

Gemma laughed. “I think Elizabeth can handle him. She is certainly no wallflower.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Peter had found his way to Frederick. He clasped his old friend on the shoulder with a solemn smile.

“I must say, Frederick, your sister would be so proud of you,” Peter said, his voice thick with emotion. “Helen always wanted you to find happiness, and I think she would be delighted to see that in you now.”

Frederick gave him a small, bittersweet smile, his eyes softening. “I know she would, Peter. It is still hard, though, to think of her, to know she cannot be here to see this. But I will carry her memory with me always, especially today.”

Peter nodded in understanding, a silent agreement passing between them. They had both suffered losses, and though they could not bring Helen back, they could honor her legacy by living their lives to the full. For Frederick, that meant embracing the love and joy he had now found with Gemma.

Turning his attention to Gemma, Peter smiled warmly. “I must say, madam, you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Helen would have adored you.”

Gemma’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Thank you, Peter. I have heard so much about her from Frederick, and I am sorry for your loss, too. It seems we have all had to face grief in different ways.”

Peter nodded. “We have, but I know she would have wanted us to find happiness. And I believe she would have been overjoyed to see what you and Frederick have found in each other.”

As the ceremony began, Gemma felt a surge of emotion wash over her. She was standing before the altar, holding Frederick’s hand, surrounded by the people she loved most.

The officiant’s voice rang out clearly. “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”

Gemma glanced up at Frederick, seeing the depth of his emotion in his eyes.

“I will,” she said softly.

When it was Frederick’s turn, his gaze never wavered from hers.

“I, Frederick, take thee, Gemma, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death us do part.”

Gemma’s voice was steady, though her heart felt like it might burst with emotion as she repeated the vows.

“I, Gemma, take thee, Frederick, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.”

The officiant smiled warmly. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he prompted.

Frederick’s hand was sure as he slipped the ring onto her finger, murmuring the words of the ancient promise.

The chapel felt alive with a sacred energy, and as the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, the room erupted into applause. Frederick leaned down to kiss Gemma, sealing their union with a gentle yet fervent kiss, one filled with all the love he held for her in his heart.

The celebrations that followed were just as grand as the ceremony. The ballroom at Blackridge was alight with golden chandeliers, and the floor was alive with dancing. Laughter filled the air as guests enjoyed themselves, celebrating the couple’s union in the grandest of ways. Gemma had never seen anything like it—the food, the music, the decorations—it was all breathtaking.

As the evening wore on, Gemma and Frederick found themselves a quiet corner of the room holding glasses of champagne. He smiled at her, his eyes soft and filled with love.

They had danced earlier, lost in each other’s arms, but now, in this moment of quiet, they could reflect on everything they had gone through to get to where they now were.

“I can hardly believe it,” Gemma said softly. “I never imagined I would find happiness like this. I have had so many years of pain, of feeling like I did not belong… and now, here we are, together.”

Frederick’s gaze softened, and he took her hand. “You belong here, Gemma. You always have. I know we have both had our share of battles, but this makes everything worth it.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. “And we will face whatever comes next, together. With you by my side, I know I can face anything.”

The sound of soft laughter reached their ears, and Gemma turned to see Juliet, now the Duchess of Islington, and her husband Hector approaching.

Juliet, with her bright smile and lively energy, pulled Gemma into a warm hug.

“I am so happy for you, Gemma,” Juliet said. “It is clear how much Frederick loves you. And you are such a beautiful bride.

Frederick laced his fingers with Gemma’s, then turned to Juliet. “I want to also congratulate you, Duchess. St. Catherine’s will be a much-improved place with you running it, that much is certain.”

Gemma’s eyes widened in surprise. “You are now running St. Catherine’s?”

Juliet nodded, a fierce determination in her voice. “Yes, I have taken over. I know it was not the easiest place, but I promise you, Gemma, it is going to be different. I will make sure no one else has to go through what you did.”

As Juliet spoke, Gemma noticed the Duke of Islington’s eyes gleaming with pride. How fortunate were they to have found men they loved—both of them. And from what Gemma had heard, Ciara and Penelope—two ladies with equal strife in their lives, now both duchesses—had found their happiness too.

Gemma’s heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you. That means more to me than you can imagine. I am glad to know the convent will be in good hands. In kind hands, above all.”

Frederick slipped his arm around Gemma’s waist, his presence grounding her.

Together, they turned back to the guests and watched as the festivities continued around them.

It was a moment of pure happiness, a celebration not just of their love, but of the future they were building together.

A future that would be full of joy, laughter and love.

As the evening wore on, Gemma and Frederick slipped away to a quiet garden outside, taking a moment to themselves.

The stars above were clear and bright, the air cool and soothing. They stood together, hands clasped, and hearts full.

“I am so thankful for everything we have,” Gemma said, her voice barely a whisper.

Frederick pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I am thankful for you, Gemma. For your strength, your love, and everything you have brought into my life.”

They stood there for a long while, simply enjoying the peace and quiet of the night, knowing that together, they could face anything the future held.

The End?