Epilogue

One Month Later

“We all got one,” Katherine said, sighing.

Henry nodded. “It was… it was a strange thing to read.”

Alexander glanced at William, who raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me. I’m nowhere near getting married, so I wouldn’t know.

Alexander looked back down at the crisp white envelope the family solicitor had delivered only half an hour ago.

It was his wedding day, and apparently their father had arranged for all of his children to receive a letter on their wedding day.

“What happens if we don’t marry within the deadline?” he asked.

Katherine shrugged. “I imagine they’re destroyed. Does it matter?”

“Not really, I suppose. How long until I have to be at the church?”

“You have an hour,” Henry advised. “Your friend Hamish is there already, doing some last-minute decorations. Or so he said, I thought there were enough flowers on the aisle, but then my wedding was a little more sober.”

Alexander bit back a smile.

Mary, of course, had wanted the wedding to be a fantastic affair, and was disappointed that she would only have a month to plan it. Half of London was invited, as far as Alexander could tell, and there was to be a tremendous wedding breakfast back at the house afterwards. Abigail was nervous about the crowds, and he often wished that he’d bargained his mother down to a smaller guest list.

It was too late now, of course.

Hamish had not touched a drop of alcohol since the disastrous party. Neither, for that matter, had Alexander.

He felt… better. Fresher and clearer, to be sure. No more headaches and nausea in the morning, no more blurry evenings that he could never quite remember.

He watched his siblings drink alcohol and suffer no ill effects, and had wondered more than once why he was the one who could not get the hang of moderation.

The longer he went without a drink, the less it seemed to matter.

“Should I read it?” he asked, after a pause.

Henry and Katherine exchanged glances.

“We did,” Henry admitted. “I wanted to know what he had to say. I have no idea what you’ll find in that letter, though. Be warned.”

Alexander nodded. “Thank you.”

His three siblings filed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Alexander was left alone in his bedroom, staring down at the envelope.

In about an hour, he would be married, and his inheritance would come through. He had no idea what to do with it, beyond buying a neat townhouse for him and Abigail to live in.

The business of his mother worried him. She had the dower house and her own allowance, of course, but William lacked patience with her. Katherine resented her mother for never supporting her during those hellish years when their father lived, and Henry did not seem to think much about his mother at all.

Alexander already knew, deep down, what would need to be done. He had said as much to Abigail.

“I think that my mother may need to live with us,” he had said, slowly and hesitantly one evening, not so long ago. “I… I don’t think she can alive alone. She is so fragile.”

Abigail had put down her book and considered, nodding slowly.

“Then she’ll live with us.”

That was all. Alexander blinked, frowning. “Just like that? Most women would rather die than have their mother-in-law live with them.”

Abigail smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “I can see how vulnerable she is, too. Your father, her husband, treated her poorly and took her for granted. She suffered. We won’t let her suffer more.”

Alexander had broken into a wide, relieved smile, very nearly bursting into tears.

“Thank you, Abbie. Thank you.”

Back in the present, he picked up the envelope and gingerly slipped it open. He’d half-expected something terrible inside, like a dead spider or poison powder.

It was just a letter, of course, written in his father’s familiar handwriting. Holding his breath, he unfolded the paper and began to read.