Extended Epilogue

Samantha did not mourn her father's passing.

She knew that it was the right thing to do, and she felt immeasurable guilt at not doing so, but she could not bring herself to. He was old and unwell, and he had told them that it was coming, and so she was as prepared as one could possibly be before such a loss.

And yet, it did not make her feel any better. When she received the news from Adam, the room became silent. There was noise in the room, of course, but she could not hear it. She could see that Graham was watching her read the letter, and then she saw his face grow more and more concerned, but she could not hear what he was saying to her.

It was a shame because in that moment, she truly did require some comforting words.

In the days that followed, however, she found that nothing had changed at all except for the fact that she thought about her father more often. It was not, other than that, too difficult to manage. On more than one occasion, she thought that she might actually shed a tear, but none ever fell. In truth, she was at peace, and she had not known a greater feeling at any other time in her life.

That, of course, only made her guilt feel worse.

"You mustn't punish yourself," Graham said gently. "He was not a good father to you, and so I hardly blame you for not feeling any particular sadness about the loss of him."

"But it makes me a terrible daughter."

"You have done more for that man than any daughter could ever have been expected to. The fact that he is not missed has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. This is not your fault, Samantha, and if I must tell you that over and over, then I will."

Samantha chewed on her lip. It was becoming more and more likely that he would, indeed, have to. It felt better knowing that she was not alone, for she had her husband and her sister and her half-brother, as well as the family that came along with her sister, but even so, there were moments where she felt hopelessly and despairingly alone.

Sleeping beside her husband made that feeling disappear for the most part, and as the final goodbyes approached, she felt herself grow more confident about all that would happen.

The day of the funeral came, however, and when she awoke, she felt the urge to hide away instead of attending.

"If you do not wish to go, I shall not force you," Graham said gently. "Nobody shall judge you for it."

"No, I must," she grumbled. "I cannot leave Adam and Diana to go through it all without me. Besides, they have not spoken to each other properly yet, and so it would be unfair of me to force them to speak to one another."

"Surely there will be others in attendance to speak with?"

Samantha gave him a look, and he knew exactly what she meant by it.

"I see," he continued. "Well, in any case, if you do not feel as though you can do it, then you mustn't force yourself."

"I shall be perfectly fine."

"Very well, but if that changes, then you must tell me so that we can leave. I am not a particular fan of funerals, myself."

"It must be done. It shall be fine once we are there, I am sure of it."

In truth, she had been feeling tired each and every morning, and she had been fortunate in that she could blame said fatigue on her father's passing, even though there was no connection between the two whatsoever.

Samantha hated black clothing. It was a sad color, and she did not like how it looked on her. It took all color from her and left her looking withdrawn. It was especially upsetting given that she had almost had a glow to her of late. Regardless, the day would be over soon enough, and so she took a deep breath and followed Graham out into the carriage.

As expected, there was nobody else at the funeral, only his children. It was less than ideal circumstances for a reunion, but Samantha was grateful for the opportunity, nonetheless.

"I suppose that we should discuss fond memories?" Diana suggested.

"I cannot name any," Adam replied. "I wish I knew how to do this sort of thing."

"We could invent stories," Samantha suggested. "As if he were truly a wonderful father."

"Ah, yes, like the time he came to see his granddaughter," Diana declared. "He told her that she looked just like me and called her a beautiful girl. Then, he brought out a box filled with gifts for us all, and he told us that they were expensive but that they paled in comparison to how much he loved us."

"I remember that," Adam noted. "And the time he came all the way to Scotland just to see me on my birthday. Truly, a better dad might be out there, but I have certainly never met him."

The three of them laughed, but it was an empty sound. Samantha looked over at Graham, who was standing with Diana's husband and children. He did not seem to know what to do with himself, and Samantha understood that feeling completely. Nobody wanted to be there at all, and yet they had felt obligated to be.

In that respect, at least, Samantha did not feel so alone.

"You may both think me awful," Samantha confessed, "but I must admit that I am not particularly sad about this."

"Nor am I," Adam agreed, "but I did not have all that much time to know him."

"Time has little to do with it," Diana shrugged. "I cannot say that I am upset by this at all, either. I mourn for the missed opportunity to have a father that cared for me but nothing more. Now that he is gone, I actually feel as though I can move on with my life and be more than just his daughter."

"You are a duchess, are you not?" Adam asked.

"I am, indeed, but it is hard not to feel like you are the same person that you were as a child. Sometimes, I wake up and feel as though I am in that house again, and when I realize that I am not, all that I feel is relief."

"I have those moments from time to time," Samantha noted.

"As do I," Adam agreed. "Except for the fact that I continue to wake up in that household."

"Well, you can go wherever you please now that you are the Earl," Diana smiled.

"Oh, how could I forget! Yes, Adam, how are you finding your new role?"

"I feel exactly the same as before although now I can freely leave for Scotland."

"So you shall be doing that tomorrow?" Diana suggested.

"Certainly not. I have a few matters to tend to here, and not only that, but I find myself being drawn to England. I cannot say that I shall ever want to live here, but staying a short while longer will not hurt, especially when it means I can see the two of you."

"And you are welcome any time," Samantha promised. "In fact, we were hoping to host a ball soon. We have had to place it on hold for a short while, given the circumstances, but once a sensible mourning period has passed, that shall be an invitation for you to receive."

"I shall accept it now, then," Adam declared. "And who knows? Perhaps I shall find a wife of my own, and we can run away to Scotland together."

"Are you in search of a wife?" Diana asked, and their brother laughed.

"Certainly not. I only said that in jest. I do not even know how to be an earl without a wife and all that comes with one. I am choosing an easy life with none of the hardships. That is what makes the most sense, is it not?"

"My sister and I said the same thing," Diana explained. "And if you were to ask the two of us which life was easier, we would both tell you that when all is said and done, you are best off being married."

"Not I," he protested, "and should I be proven wrong, I shall declare as such to anyone I meet. It shall be the first thing that I tell them when I introduce myself."

"Before even your name?" Samantha asked. "How strange."

"That is how completely and utterly certain I am," Adam noted. "You shall see for yourselves."

The sisters exchanged a knowing glance.

Then again, Samantha wondered if Adam was the same as Penelope and truly was happier alone. She also wondered if he truly did wish to return to Scotland once he had tended to their late father's affairs and if he was only staying in England for her and Diana. If that were the case, she was certainly touched by it.

It would be the only funeral that Samantha would attend that was spent laughing together, and knowing that made the entire day that much more enjoyable. She wanted to cry, and to be sad that she would never have a good relationship with her father, but she could not bring herself to. She was happy, after all, and nothing was going to change that.

If anything, her happiness would only continue to grow.

"What did you discuss with the Duke?" she asked Graham on their carriage ride home.

"Nothing much," he replied. "Nothing of interest to you, at least."

"Well now you have piqued my interest, and I simply must know."

"It was about fatherhood," he confessed. "I know that it is something that you and I have discussed and that we are not actively trying to conceive, but in the even that we do, I wish to be prepared, and as he is the only good example of a father that I can name… I thought it would be wise to ask him."

"I see," she replied kindly, "and what did he say?"

"He told me that when the time comes, I shall know what to do. He told me that we cannot truly ever be prepared for what comes our way, but that we should do the best we can with what we have."

"He is certainly wise," she noted. "What did you think about it?"

"I think it is frightening. It is daunting to know that I shall never truly be ready for it and that I can do everything in my power to be prepared, but I will still come across things that confuse me greatly, and I shall not know what to do."

"I do not think that it will be too bad."

"Ever the optimist."

"It is true! To be sure, there will be times that we are confused, and we will not know our left from right, and everything will be frightening and daunting and confusing, just as you said, but there will also be times of great joy, and that will make all of the struggles and strife make sense in the end."

"When did you become so wise?"

"When I began attending those university classes. They have been an incredible aid not only to my knowledge but also to my outlook on life. I cannot even begin to explain the joy I feel there, especially when the scholars tell me that I am brilliant."

"That must be often."

"You are forgetting that I am a lady, and a lady cannot simply be called brilliant. It has happened on a few occasions, though."

"It will only happen more often, too, as you learn."

"Precisely. It is so wonderful to have exactly what I want in life, and now, I can confidently say that I have everything that I could have asked for."

She saw how her husband's face fell slightly.

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything," she giggled, "I cannot think of a single thing missing from my life."

"Ah, well… if that is how you want our life together to be."

"What do you mean?" she asked and saw how he smirked at her.

"Well, I had spoken to Colin about children as I had thought we were hoping for one, but since you are so perfectly content with what we have now, then we might as well not expend the effort."

He was teasing her, expecting her to play along and beg him to reconsider, but she had a trick in turn for him.

"I never once mentioned not wanting to have children in our life," she replied. "I simply said that I am happy with what we have now."

With a wink, she seemed to at last perfectly explain to him what she had been trying to say. He seemed confused for a moment, and then his eyes widened.

"Do you mean to say that we are… expecting?"

"My courses stopped, and so I believe so. Fortunately, you have more time to discuss this with Colin so that you might receive some more of his wisdom before our little one arrives."

"He shall soon wish to see the end of me, I am sure. You will wish the same thing."

"I could never," she promised.

"I will be insufferable," he warned, "and devoting my life to ensure that you are nothing short of happy for the rest of your life."

"And so I can expect nothing to change at all?" she asked. "How wonderful, it is just as I was hoping. I also wonder if this will make Adam change his mind about staying?"

"I would wager that it will although you will have to discuss the matter with him first."

"And I shall, but for now, I simply want to go home with you and stay there for a while, just the two of us."

Which was precisely what they did, which is why they were then not heard from for several days.

The End