Epilogue

EPILOGUE

T heir wedding had been a small affair, unlike the very real affair they'd had for a month prior to the blessing of a minister. Phineas had insisted that Sunshine return to her townhouse, not only for the sake of scandal, but also because she'd told him how much she cared for her servants. He arranged for them to move to Willow Manor after the wedding. While Sunshine was busy making plans, he was busy closing a deal on the Gallant .

He helped Sunshine into the closed carriage, a cozy seat for two.

"I don't want to hurt Mr. Wallace's feelings, but I can't keep the townhouse. Not now. He'll have to see reason."

"He sounds very reasonable to me. When I asked for his blessing, he almost cried."

"Did he?"

"Actually, yes. I believe he did. But he wants you to keep the house. And I agree."

"How can you say that? We don't need it, Phineas. I can't believe you of all people would stoop to gain a dime from sorrow."

He chuckled because he knew things that she did not, and he took no offense. "What a strange thing to say to the man who stole the widow and made her his mistress."

"For a little while." She looked at him from under her lashes, giving his arm a little squeeze. "I cannot get used to the title of Lady Davies. I'd rather be simple Mrs. Phineas Blackmore."

"Well, I'm sorry I cannot change those rules for you. I can, however, help you keep stock of your assets."

"We're talking about the townhouse again."

"In a way." He gave her his smiling profile.

"You're very short on words today."

"Only the naughty ones are available, but only for you."

"If you're going to be so tight-lipped, at least tell me where we're going?"

By the time he ran out of one-word answers, they had arrived at Corkspur Street. Their destination.

"Why have we stopped here?"

"I thought we'd do a little shopping."

She watched him suspiciously. "I don't imagine there is anything here I need."

"Well, my dear, there is an art institute around the corner, and I thought it would be a nice place to visit."

She looked out the window. "There's nothing here but shops." And then her mouth fell open. "An art studio." She opened the door, and he allowed her the first view before helping her step into her new world. "Sunrise Art Museum." She turned to him. "For me?"

He nodded. "Mr. Wallace and I came to an agreement. I hope you'll forgive me for leaving you out, but I wanted to surprise you."

"Help me," she said, fluttering her hands toward the open carriage door.

He was only a little nervous that she might be angry because the men had left her out of the decision. They made the few steps in a silent thunder of awe. The door opened with the rattle of a little bell, and inside were all the people who loved them.

"Mr. Wallace," she said with tears. She hugged him, and Phineas took a step back, allowing her all the feelings. She gasped. "Joseph. It's so very good to see you."

"And you look so happy and radiant," Joseph replied, looking very much like a younger version of his father. According to Sunshine, this was the man who could not look her in the eye. He had not come to the small wedding affair, and Phineas could see this was a door that needed closing. For her and for Joseph Wallace.

Sunshine hugged her late husband's friend for a long moment. Putting away all jealousy the moment she said I do , Phineas stood back while Joseph took care of her tears by handing her a handkerchief.

The museum was more than that. It was a shop, a studio, and a place for local artists. His aunts were there along with the Duchess of Justamere who, according to Sunshine, was another supporter from the Widows' League. Of course, the Duke of Justamere stood beside his wife, and Phineas felt a camaraderie with the man. There were students who came from the institute, and some of the local owners welcomed their newest business owner.

Sunshine turned her gaze on Phineas. "You did this?"

"With the help of Mr. Wallace. He agreed to take the town house back on one condition."

She looked to Mr. Wallace.

"Yes," Mr. Wallace said. "The funds from the sale will pay for this place."

"Phineas, is that true?"

"I hope it meets with your approval. I didn't want to do something without your permission, but I thought you'd more than approve of this."

"It's everything. I used to help run my father's store."

"It's more that." He took her hand and led her to the display in the front window.

"It's my father's sunset. Mr. Wallace, you want this here?"

"I thought others should see it, and your new husband, here, had a wonderful idea that I think your father would have liked."

She pulled off her gloves and ran a loving hand down the side of the picture frame, careful not to touch the painting itself.

Aunt Vada and Aunt Nora sidled up beside him, their arms entwined. "Do you think she likes it?"

Sunshine turned. "It's wonderful."

Nora spoke. "It's a place for thieves."

"It's a place for borrowing, not taking, Nora."

"Thieves take things," Nora said without a hitch. "What should make them return them?"

"I don't understand," Sunshine said. She looked from Phineas's aunts, then to him.

"Along with the shop and the studio, it's a lending museum. Local artists can lend out their art for special occasions or parties. The art will be seen and appreciated by those who cannot afford it. It will also bring in clients for the artists by providing added visibility."

"That's genius. It's a library for art. Oh, Phineas, you could not have done a better thing."

Champagne was served to celebrate. Local artists showed up thirty minutes after they arrived because Phineas had wished for her to have a more private, personal experience when he revealed the surprise. He couldn't be sure how she would feel. Now his heart was full for her. His life had more meaning than he thought to ever have.

She pulled him up the stairs that led to the private studio over the storefront. "We lived in a place much the same as this. The memories are warm and familiar."

"I hope so. I was worried I might have made a mistake."

"No, not a mistake." With her back to him, she pulled his arms around her waist, looking out over the bustling corner that teemed with London's most sought-after socialites during the Season.

"I wanted you to feel alive again."

"You saved me with a feather, Phineas. You helped me make a memory."

"A good one, I hope."

"The best, wicked kind."

He nuzzled her neck. "My little tart."

"My number one benefactor." She turned in his arms. "I believe your offer has exceeded my expectations. Do you think we'd be missed if we disappeared for an hour?" She brandished the red feather which he had come to recognize as a request for a rendezvous.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. "This time, we'll lock the door."

The studio was scarce for furniture, but it did sport one leather chair which they thoroughly liberated. Shades of a pink and orange sunset was the last thing he saw before his beautiful tart of a wife made him forget everything but her and that damn red feather.

THE END