Epilogue

Epilogue

"I must say, I am impressed you managed to pull it off," Chelsea said as she slipped another diamond-tipped pin into Charlotte's hair. "Planning an entire wedding in less than a month!"

"I told you," Charlotte said, "we had no reason—nor desire—to wait. We would have done it sooner had we not had to wait for the banns to be read at church."

Chelsea giggled as Annie helped her place the veil into her hair. "You went from never wanting to marry to insisting on marrying as quickly as possible."

Charlotte spun around on her stool and looked up at her oldest, dearest friend. "Well, perhaps you were right all along. It seems I really did just need to meet the right man."

"And never could there ever be a man more right for you than the duke himself. You are perfect together. Even Leonard agrees, and he hardly ever has anything to say about anything—at least not to me."

Charlotte frowned. "But you are happy together, aren't you?"

"Oh yes!" Chelsea waved her hand dismissively, though she wore a mischievous grin. "It's just how I like it. I get all the perks of marriage, if you catch my drift, without having to manage his opinions too much."

This time, Charlotte giggled. "You sound like an old married woman already, as if you have been married forty years and have run out of things to say to each other."

"Not at all. We say plenty to each other, but it's always about us, and never about other people. It's perfect. It sounds insular but it's also insulated, if you know what I mean. Our little tribe protected from the rest of the world. Now, turn back around and let Annie finish your hair."

Charlotte did as she was asked, and as she did so, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the looking glass. Her pale skin was flushed at the cheeks, and the redness of her lips matched. It was her eyes that looked so different, though. They sparkled with hope and happiness, and she knew that spark would never die, not now that she had Alexander.

"There, perfect," Chelsea said.

Charlotte stood up and looked at herself fully. She had chosen to wear her mother's wedding gown. It was old, true, and not of the fashion of the day. The cream color had begun to fade, and some of the trim around the edge had been moth-eaten. But it was still the most beautiful gown Charlotte had ever seen, and she was pleased to have part of her parents with her on her wedding day.

"You miss them, don't you?" Chelsea said, reading her expression.

Charlotte nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. "I wish they could have met Alexander. They would have liked him immensely."

"They would have thought this the perfect union," Chelsea agreed.

Charlotte thought about the family she had left. Uncle Elliot was going to walk her down the aisle in place of her father, but Aunt Lydia had been told she could sit in the pews of the church with the rest of the guests. Charlotte didn't want the falseness of pretending she was part of this day.

As if on cue, there came a knock at the door and Uncle Elliot popped his head around the frame. He gasped when he saw Charlotte, then stepped fully into the room.

"My goodness," he cried. He held his arms out as if to embrace her, though he didn't approach her. "I worried for a while that I would never see this day, but here we are. You are so like your mother, Charlotte. So beautiful. She would have been incredibly proud of you."

"I have my mother and father inside me, but you have helped shape me into the woman I am today, Uncle Elliot. Thank you for your support in everything."

He finally stepped forward and embraced her, and Charlotte knew she had done the right thing in not revealing the truth about her aunt. It would have broken him.

"Now," he said, pulling away and looking at her, his eyes watery, "are you ready?"

They had decided upon a small wedding in a little church in London, the very same church in which Charlotte's own parents had married. The ceremony was intimate, with only close friends and family. There were Charlotte's own family, of course, along with Lord and Lady Hurtle, Chelsea's parents. Chelsea and her husband were there, along with Stewart and his new fiancée. Even Arthur joined them.

They had discussed bringing Alexander's uncle, but they ultimately decided it would be too much for the man. He was, after all, very sick, and so the three of them had spent a little time together with the nurse present, and Alexander had done his best to explain the situation to him.

Charlotte wasn't convinced he understood, but she found him a sweet old man, and she looked forward to many more picnics and dinners together in the future. Perhaps she could even help the nurse now and then.

As she stepped into the church, the organist began to play, and Charlotte's chest thrummed with an excited anxiety. This was it… she would become Duchess of Ashbourne and would at last have everything she had ever dreamed of.

She and her uncle walked slowly down the aisle toward Alexander, who waited at the front. He didn't turn to look at her, but somehow Charlotte felt his nerves, too. She knew he couldn't look at her without breaking down with emotion, and that made her smile. He loved her more truly than she had ever thought possible.

"What a surprise to see you here, my lady," he said with a teasing wink as she met him at the altar.

"Soon to be Your Grace. Perhaps you ought call me that from now on, just to practice."

Alexander chuckled then leaned into her and whispered, "You look more beautiful than I have ever seen you."

"And you look as if you were up all night polishing those brass buttons on your tailcoat," she teased.

"Don't be silly. The butler did it."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Reverend Whitmore began, and Charlotte and Alexander paused their teasing to pay attention. This was a day that would change their entire lives, after all, and it was a day they both wished to record in their memories forever.

"We are gathered here today to witness the matrimony between His Grace, Alexander Wentworth, The Duke of Ashbourne, and Miss Charlotte Fairchild."

The hum of conversation behind them settled to the gentle murmur of silence, and Charlotte handed her posy of flowers to Chelsea.

As Reverend Whitmore began the ceremony in earnest, Charlotte gazed at her husband to be, in awe of how much her life had changed in less than a year. She never thought she would marry, never thought she would find a man worthy of her. She was different, she always had been, and she never thought any man would accept that.

But Alexander wasn't just any man. He was perfect for her, and she hadn't realized gentlemen like him existed. He made her smile in every way. He lit her up with a fire in her heart and her loins. He was everything to her, and now he was making vows, promising to be hers forever.

"I, Alexander Wentworth, take thee, Charlotte Fairchild, to be my wedded wife."

Charlotte held her breath, allowing the intensity of the emotion to wash over her. That was the thing about the duke. He allowed her to be herself, and that meant she allowed herself the full range of emotions.

"To have and to hold from this day forward," he continued, gazing into her eyes as if she were the only one in the world. Charlotte pressed her lips together, her chest rising and falling as she allowed the breath back in. "For better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

"Miss Fairchild?" Reverend Whitmore said, with a nod. Charlotte nodded, not looking at him. She couldn't stop looking at Alexander.

"I, Charlotte Fairchild, take thee, Alexander Wentworth…"

The vows she spoke were the most important words she had ever spoken, and she put her all into every part of it.

Eventually, Reverend Whitmore declared, "I now pronounce you man and wife," and their guests erupted into cheers and applause.

Charlotte laughed heartily, looking up at her husband and then turning to see those they loved most in the entire world, gathered together and on their feet, celebrating their health and happiness.

Alexander took her hand and together, they walked from the church under a flurry of thrown petals. They stepped into the waiting carriage as newlyweds, and made their way to Ashbourne House. Though the estate was being renovated, thanks to Alexander's good investments, the maids and footmen had worked hard to make the place beautiful and worthy of the celebration.

It was an indulgence insisted upon by her uncle, and though he had been content to host the event at his own home, Alexander had wanted to finally make use of the lavish building he had inherited.

"I suppose you are my wife now," Alexander said as the wheels of the carriage began to turn.

"I suppose I am."

"Do you prefer Mrs. Wentworth or Duchess of Ashbourne?" he teased.

"How about, Mrs. Wentworth, the Duchess of Ashbourne?" she retorted.

"Hmm, yes." He nodded. "It has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds perfect to me." She paused, gazing up at her new husband. "Alexander?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

And he did, without hesitation and without concern. He bent his head, his lips touching hers softly. Charlotte ran her hand around the back of his neck, pushing her fingers into his hair.

"You are hungry," he said with a chuckle as he pulled away from her.

"Starved, in fact," she said. She looked up at him with her sweetest, most innocent expression, knowing full well he would see through it instantly. "Alexander, I don't think I can wait until this evening to consummate our marriage. It is too long, and you are far too appealing."

Without taking his eyes off his bride, Alexander raised his walking stick and tapped on the roof of the carriage. "Stop here for a while and take a little walk in the woods," he shouted to the men at the front. "I have a little business to attend to with my wife."

They waited until the carriage rocked with the movement of the departing footmen, keeping their eyes locked on one another.

"Now," Alexander said once he was certain they were alone. "Let me see if, as your husband, I can do something about that insatiable hunger of yours."

"If anyone can satisfy it," Charlotte said with a feigned sigh, "it would be you."

He crawled over to her, his eyes still locked on hers, climbing up her body. "That's why we're so good together, my love. Do you know, I've heard that it's so much better once you're wed?"

He was close to her face now, his breath rushing over her cheeks.

"Is that so?" she asked. "Then perhaps you ought to prove it to me."

He paused for another tense moment, building the anticipation in her until she could barely take it, then he leaned in and kissed her. It was strong, passionate, so full of love. But more than that, it gave her a taste of what she wanted, and she pushed herself forward, kissing him harder.

They made love there in the carriage, their first time as husband and wife. It was quick and rough and passionate, but Charlotte's release was the biggest and best she had ever experienced. They had hitched her gown around her waist, and Alexander had probed her hungrily with his fingers before driving his manhood into her.

And as he'd rocked above her, the movement of the carriage aiding their love making, he nuzzled into her neck, the roughness of his whiskers scratching her flesh and causing her to shudder in delight.

Their releases had come together, their joy in unison. Alexander pushed himself deeper and harder than he ever had before, then held himself there as he planted his seed within her. Charlotte clutched his back, digging her fingers in as the sensation flushed through her, almost too much to bear.

Until finally, the tension in Alexander's body disappeared, and he fell on top of her, panting and sweating and filled with true contentment. Charlotte lay beneath him, her own breath shallow, her body shaking from the experience, his manhood still inside her. She kissed his cheek, his ear, his neck, wherever she could reach as he recovered, then whispered, "What you heard was quite correct, clearly."

Alexander chuckled then raised himself up onto his arms. "It's no surprise, is it? When love and sexual attraction mingle, it creates the greatest thing in the world. Now, I hear there is a party being thrown in our honor at Ashbourne House. Do you think we ought to go?"

"Ought to?" she said. "I'd love to!"

Later, the party was in full swing. All their loved ones were there, feasting and drinking and dancing and laughing, though mostly dancing. It was a grand celebration indeed, and Charlotte smiled when she saw how truly happy Uncle Elliot was to witness the whole event.

Eventually, she and Alexander fell into their seats at the head of the table, watching everyone else continue the party.

"Goodness," Charlotte said, "I'm positively exhausted."

"I'm not surprised. We've danced more than ever before, and we've danced , too."

He winked, and Charlotte giggled, her mind reaching back to their dance in the carriage that afternoon. Her body held the memories all afternoon, the slight ache in her legs and the feeling of emptiness at her center. It made the celebration all the better knowing that she belonged to him in body as well as in the eyes of the law.

"Are you two not dancing any longer?" Chelsea asked as she bounded up to the couple. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, and her eyes sparkled with something Charlotte didn't recognize. Happiness, perhaps?

"If I dance any more, I think I won't have feet left by the morning," Charlotte said with a laugh.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Chelsea asked, indicating the spare chair near them.

"Not at all. You know you are always welcome. You're as good as a sister to me."

"Good, because I have some news, and I would really like you to be the first to know. Before even my parents."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Very well, what is it?"

Chelsea paused for a moment, her grin wide, then she blurted the words out. "Charlotte, I'm with child!"

The pair squealed in delight, and Alexander chuckled. "Then congratulations are in order," he said.

"Oh, I'm so very happy for you," Charlotte cried, reaching over and taking her friend's hand in hers. Chelsea's eyes were wet with tears of joy.

"Thank you. It seems we are both getting what we always wanted."

"Not quite," Alexander said, feigning a drop of sadness. "It seems we're a step behind you."

"No." Charlotte shook her head. "We're not behind. We're exactly where we're meant to be."

Alexander leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her temple, then said, "Quite right, though that doesn't mean we shouldn't hurry. How wonderful would it be for our children to grow up alongside Chelsea's?"

"That would be perfect," Charlotte agreed. She could picture it already, their children running riot around the grounds of Ashbourne House. They would grow to be the best of friends, just as she and Chelsea had. They would be cousins—no, siblings—to one another, a family they have chosen for themselves.

"What is everyone whispering about over here?" Stewart said, meandering over to them and pulling a chair up.

"Just how perfect everything is," Charlotte said, smiling up at him.

"Ah yes, it does seem rather wonderful. And to think all this almost never happened!"

Alexander snorted. "It always would have happened. It was fated."

"Not if that awful Lucille had her way," Chelsea said with a shudder.

"The less said about her, the better," Charlotte agreed.

"You haven't heard, then?" Stewart asked. "I would have thought you'd be the first people to know."

"Heard what?" Alexander asked. He didn't want her name spoken on his wedding day, but if the discussion had to be had, then he wanted it over quickly.

"She's moved to Paris. The ton have rejected her, seeing through her manipulative ways. She's been socially exiled and has had to flee to the continent."

Charlotte allowed the news to sink in. She was pleased she would never have to face the woman again, though she had never had a cruel streak herself. And besides, Lucille had ultimately helped them, hadn't she?

"I hope she finds the life she deserves in Paris," Charlotte said sincerely. "I genuinely wish her well. Perhaps in France she will find what she needs to become the good woman I know she can be, if only she has the right environment."

Alexander reached over and squeezed her hand tightly, gazing at her with those loving eyes that Charlotte would never tire of. "You really are the kindest, sweetest woman in the world. Do you know that, Charlotte Wentworth?"

"Charlotte Wentworth? I rather like that."

"And how about Duchess of Ashbourne?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Charlotte smirked. "Why, I like that even better."

Later still, as the festivities came to an end and their guests trailed out of the house, Alexander swept Charlotte off her feet and into his arms. She let out a cry of laughter, then wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's been the perfect day. I wish it didn't have to end."

"It doesn't have to end, my love," Alexander said as he began mounting the stairs.

Charlotte pulled back and looked at him quizzically. "But aren't we going to bed?"

"We are," he said. He wiggled his eyebrows, making her giggle.

"Twice in one day?" she asked.

He nodded. "Or thrice, if you're lucky."

Charlotte planted a kiss on his lips as he maneuvered through the corridors of the manor house.

"I love you, Your Grace."

"And I love you, Your Grace."

THE END