“Don’t make her sad again,” the boy continued.
Daphne merely chuckled. It was clear that she was very fond of the boy.
Her laughter was like music to Adrian’s ears. He’d longed to hear her again. Not just her music. Her.
The Duke rose and pulled his wife up with him, pressing her against his chest as he kissed the top of his head. While looking even more united, he turned to the bright young thing.
“I promise you that I will not make her sad again,” Adrian vowed, his gaze locked with Daphne’s. “In fact, I will make it my life’s mission to fill her life with nothing but joy.”
Daphne looked up at him, her eyes shining. It looked like she believed him and that was the most wonderful thing.
“You know,” she began.
“What is it, my love?” he whispered.
“For the first time since I married you, I can now truly believe you.”
“I’m glad.”
Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
The days went by so quickly. Three months felt like nothing. At Wolfcrest Hall, reality shifted and shadows faded away.
Who would even guess that those internal cobwebs could be swept away at all, with the kind of violence and sorrow that used to live in those halls?
The door between the master chambers remained open, although truly, husband and wife stayed in one bed anyway. Even when one was sick, the other preferred watching over the other in the same room.
Tonight, Daphne and Adrian hosted a private dinner. It wasn’t a glittering social event because neither of them thought fondly of extravaganzas and balls. Both had been unfairly maligned by thetonat some point or the other.
The guest list included family and friends, people dear to their hearts. They valued those who had given them a chance: Daphne’s sisters and their husbands, their children, as well as Daniel, Victoria, and Caleb. Mrs. Nicholson was ecstatic to be included together with her husband, Reverend Nicholson. Finch, Wilhelmina’s publisher, was there, as well. Everyone who had made the fairy tale possible was present.
Fairy tale?
Daphne did not believe what she and Adrian had could be called anything of the sort, but it felt nice to celebrate their love, just the same. She no longer thought of her life as ball gowns and pretty ribbons.
It was more than that. More real.
“Thank you, Your Graces, for inviting us!” squealed Mrs. Nicholson happily, her face red.
“Why shouldn’t we?” the Duke asked. “Without your cottage being made available to Daphne, I would not have met her.”
“Oh, dear. Yes, that is true and so fortunate. You two are such a lovely pair!”
“We are, indeed, honored that you trusted us and used our humble abode as a hiding place,” the Reverend said solemnly. “But somehow, the late earl still managed to find you there when he was still alive and obsessed with you.”
“We thank you,” Daphne said. “It was not your fault. My dear mother thought it best to make decisions for me and revealed my location.”
The Nicholsons looked aghast at the possibility a mother would do just that. Daphne’s heart clenched at the thought. She still wanted a chance to be with her mother, without her critiques and insults. She imagined what it might feel like if the Dowager truly behaved as a mother was expected to. The thought puzzled her exceedingly because she could not fathom a world in which the Dowager would ever put her children before herself.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Adrian said softly, sensing his wife’s silence.
“I can’t help it. I’m still wondering what if she were different. Not like this,” Daphne lamented.
“She isn’t, but I think we can give her a chance when she’s ready to reconcile.”
Daphne smiled at her husband. She could not help it. The darkness in him seemed to be retreating, but there were still days when he would wander back to the gallery where his family portrait was. He’d stay there, hands behind his back, watching the fading vestiges of his family.
