Epilogue

T he loveliest of fall days blessed The Willows. A few trees hinted at the change in color to come in the next weeks. Friends and family lined the drive greeting the new viscountess and her husband from the church. As Michael helped Phil out of the open carriage, he whispered in her ear. "Lady Endelton, it seems our friends don't want to leave us in peace."

"Don't be rude," she whispered back. "Grandfather went to much trouble to host our wedding. After the wedding breakfast is over, you can whisk me away and then we can have our peace."

"Promise?"

Phil placed her hand over his heart. "Always."

They greeted and mingled and ate as they were expected.

Lady Endelton hugged Phil and kissed her on each cheek. "It seems I am the Dowager Viscountess now. I've never been happier to change my title. I have decided to stay with Deborah at the cottage since Lieutenant Godderidge is gone back to sea. I'll keep Moriah with me so the two of you will have the whole of Terrace Hall until we descend upon you at Christmas."

"You will be most welcome any time."

"Mother says we should leave newlyweds alone for two months altogether."

"Moriah." A tone of good-natured warning filled the dowager's voice.

"Are you going on a tour?" asked Deborah.

"Grandfather has tasked us with visiting his many holdings, and Michael has several friends who have invited us for a few days here and there. Enough of a tour for me. Will you come at Christmas as well?"

"Lord and Lady Godderidge have asked me to come live with them from Christmas until Easter." Deborah nodded to the place across the hall where Isabel Godderidge stood with her parents.

"I should speak with them. You are also welcome to come visit any time it suits you. Michael is ever so fond of you." Phil turned to Julia. "And you as well. You must bring your daughter for a visit. Babies are always welcome."

"Not so much at weddings, although I miss her very much. We will leave soon after the two of you. I have never had a desire to stay at home as often as I have this past month."

"Then Michael and I must hurry our farewells." Phil didn't need to search the room to find her husband; some indescribable link told her he was behind her and to the left.

Moriah giggled and her mother tapped her with her fan.

Phil moved on, both wanting to hurry and slow time all at once.

At last, Phil found a quiet corner with Alex, the farewell she'd saved for last. "My only regret is I am leaving you to manage Father on your own."

"I won't be alone. I have George and Jane and only four months until my freedom from Father's home. There is a great deal of planning I must do." Alex looked across the room where their youngest sister flitted from person to person. "Only five days until she leaves for school. I hope she learns the manners our influence has failed to teach. We shall all get along without you, though we will miss you terribly."

Phil nodded to where their father drank another glass of wine—or perhaps something stronger. Grandfather stood near frowning. "I can never thank Grandfather enough knowing you have an escape. I worry Father will only become more difficult."

Michael joined them. "Alexandra, you and your sisters are welcome any time in our home."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. If not for you, I would have never spoken with your sister."

"The thanks lie with Peggy." Alex tapped her false foot on the floor, her infectious laugh spread among the three of them.

Michael tucked his new bride next to his side and whispered into the ticklish spot behind Phil's ear he'd located the other night. "Ready, darling?"

Phil forgot about being ladylike for a moment, stepped closer to her husband, and lifted her lips to give him a chaste kiss. Michael responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Even as cheering erupted around them, Phil could not end the kiss. Michael pulled back. "Does that mean yes?"

Phil laughed and they made their way out of the room with his arm still about her. Most of the party followed in their wake.

The Earl's butler opened the heavy door wide. A weary young man in wrinkled clothing stood on the doorstep. Poised to knock.

"Beg your pardon. Does Mister Whitstone, Earl of Ryeland live here?" The man's accent sounded odd to Phil's ear as did his confusion of the proper form of address.

The butler raised his chin. "This is the residence of Sir John Ryeland, Earl of Whitstone."

"Ah, that is what I meant. Titles are most confusing."

"Come back another day when you aren't interrupting his granddaughter's wedding."

The man didn't budge. "Will you inform him Johnathan Whittaker, grandson of Nathaniel Whittaker, born Nathaniel Ryeland, heir to the sixth Earl of Whitstone, is here from Massachusetts to fulfill my grandfather's last request?"

Everyone in the hall grew silent and parted for Grandfather to come forward. Phil and Michael stepped to the side.

Grandfather extended his hand. "You came at last."