Epilogue

“ I can’t believe that our second honeymoon is also taking place at Carramere Castle,” Rosalie complained. She was standing in the old room where she had once almost fallen to her death, looking around at the new floor which had been expertly installed by the builders. In fact, she could hardly even believe it was the same room. With the paint, the new floor, the refurbished window, and all the new furniture, it looked entirely different.

“This was your idea!” Nathan laughed. He was sitting on the sofa opposite her enjoying a cigar and a brandy. “You wanted to come to Carramere Castle and get it fixed up for good!”

“Well, yes, that’s true.” Rosalie put her hands on her hips. “But you should have dissuaded me! This second honeymoon is turning out to be all work and no play.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Then come here and have a brandy with me. That will certainly loosen you up.”

She laughed, hesitated, then shook her head. “There’s too much to do! I don’t have time for brandy.”

“Darling, we have been overseeing the restoration for a month now. Most of it is done. You can allow yourself a break.”

“I can’t allow myself a break!” She sighed. “We still have to do the rest of the guest bedrooms…”

“Why? I don’t want anyone coming to stay with us.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.” He sent her a mischievous wink. “This place is our love nest.”

“Well, I’m glad you now associate it with better memories than before!” she said, shaking her head.

“The best memories,” he said, and his smile became even more mischievous. Rosalie blushed as memories of the past month came rushing back to her. It had certainly been a more romantic visit to the castle. For one thing, they had fixed up the Duke’s bedroom and were no longer staying in a dinghy guest room. For another, they had still found plenty of time throughout the construction to be alone together.

“Your Grace, your mind is in the gutter,” she said, shaking her head. “But I do think I’ll take a brandy now.”

He snorted then offered her his glass. She strode across the room and took it, giving it a sniff. “It’s rather early for brandy, don’t you think?”

“Not really. Actually, I was thinking that instead, we should call for champagne.”

“Champagne?” she looked at him with confusion. “Why?”

“Because,” he said wickedly, “I have a surprise for you.”

He clapped his hands, and before Rosalie could say anything, the door opened, and the butler came in holding a tray with a magazine resting on it.

“Thank you,” Nathan said as he took the magazine. Then he said to Rosalie, “This arrived this morning, but I wanted to save it for when we came to inspect this room. And if it was ready, well then, I thought it would be the perfect time.”

“What are you talking about?” Rosalie demanded.

Nathan handed it to her, and she unfurled it.

It was a literary journal. One of the ones aimed at women that featured romantic stories. She had read it often before graduating to reading novels.

“What…?” She flipped it open to the title page, and then her eyes nearly popped out.

There, printed on typeface, were the words, The Mountain Rescue, by Her Grace, Rosalie Goldwin, Duchess of Carramere.

She looked up at Nathan, her mouth agape. “The short story I wrote… you sent it off to this magazine?”

“I did,” he said, and an anxious look passed across his face. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Mad?! Of course, I’m not mad! Oh, Nathan… Thank you. Thank you so much!” She stared back down at the magazine then flipped it open the page where it said her story began. Her eyes scanned over the words she’d written, and she thought her heart might burst.

The story took place in a magical kingdom where a princess was on a pilgrimage across a mountain when the bridge she was crossing collapsed, trapping her on the side of a mountain. In the story, she was rescued by a fearless knight, who crossed the mountain crevice by cutting down a tree and making a new bridge. It was the story of Nathan’s rescue of her in this very room, reimagined in a magical setting, of course.

And now, it was published. In print!

“You really like it?” he asked, and she looked back up to see him watching her shyly.

“I love it,” she said, and she set it down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her husband. “You said you would help me become a writer, and you really meant it.”

“Of course, I did,” he murmured. “My brilliant wife. I would do anything to see your dreams come true. And you need new dreams, now that Lord Cain and Mr. Rilkin are firmly behind bars and will remain so for the rest of their lives.”

“Writing is a much better dream than revenge,” she said with a laugh. The last few months of waiting to find out if Lord Cain and Mr. Rilkin would be found guilty of their crimes had been stressful and exhausting, and now that they had been convicted and locked away, she was ready for a new adventure. “I’m tired of revenge. From here on out, I just want to be happy.”

“Me too.” He stroked the side of her face and kissed the tip of her nose. “Something tells me we’re going to be.”

The End?