“And so it has been, I fear.”
“We are a ridiculous pair,” Lord Grayson said. “But what care we? And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones—”
“And good in everything.”
“As you like it, Kitty Dell.”
*
Sir John, whosename was finally revealed as John Clover of Cloverhill Hall was committed to Bethlem. His story, which he told authorities willingly in the hopes that they would provide him a supply of laudanum, was published in the newspapers in horrid detail. It captured the peoples’ imagination, as it was frightening to think that a once ordinary person who had fallen on hard times had set in motion a devilish plot on account of a found diary. Readers of the tale whispered among themselves that there might be more Sir Johns lurking about.
The Royal Society was both relieved that Veritas had been unmasked, and relieved that so little attention to their own participation in the scheme was paid. The Royal Society’s involvement was entirely crowded out by the fairytale of romance. Miss Dell was said to be a delicate, trusting, and innocent creature. Lord Grayson was styled a veritable warrior coming to the rescue. In particular, he was quoted as having said, “We have been to Valhalla and returned unscathed,” which sent the ladies near swooning. No mention was made of the real case of the thing, that they were of equal intelligence but wildly different interests, and neither of them saw a reason to correct the facts.
Lord Grayson’s application to Lord Penderton for the hand of his daughter went remarkably smooth. It might not have, had Lady Penderton not explained the matter thoroughly to her husband.
“But I hardly understand what you say, my dear,” poor Lord Penderton said after having been woken up upon his wife’s return from Lady Hathaway’s ball.
“He has asked Kitty for her hand and she has accepted, is that not wonderful?”
Lord Penderton rubbed his chin. “So you say, there was a struggle in the garden, Sir John was there, planning to make off with Kitty, then the dandy Grayson proposes marriage?”
“Just so.”
“It cannot be right, though,” Lord Penderton said. “He is too stupid for Kitty. Remember? The book?”
“He is not stupid at all,” the baroness said. “He is different from Kitty. He has the soul of a poet and he reminds me of Frederick, without all the rule-making about what women should and should not know.”
“You mean, his feelings are easily hurt? God, I’ve tried to explain to Frederick backwards and forwards he must not take things so personally! Miss Crimpleton made one comment on his brown coat and he hasn’t worn it since.”
“What I mean, my dear husband, is Lord Grayson lives in his feelings as Frederick does. They are both romantics, they breathe poetry, and this will do for Kitty very well. When she has buried her nose in a book of dry facts too long, he will take her hand and pull her into the sunshine and fresh air.”
“Ah,” Lord Penderton said, considering. “Just as you pull me to the dining table.”
“Precisely.”
*
Kitty spent theweeks before her marriage assuring all and sundry that she was indeed betrothed to Lord Grayson. It seemed nobody could quite believe he had engaged himself.
Poor Penny was particularly turned upside down about it. It was she who had introduced Kitty to Sir John and she who had warned Kitty against Lord Grayson.
She wrote—How could I have been so wrong? Though, my dear Kitty, as I write that line it occurs to me that I should have known all along that I was wrong. I made such a muck-up of my own circumstance that I should have presumed myself the absolute worst matchmaker in the world. Now, I will have to like Lord Grayson, though I have been so used to condemning him. Though I suppose he has finally redeemed himself and so I must credit him with that. All I can say, my dear friend, is that if you are happy, then so am I.
Penny may have credited Lord Grayson with redeeming himself, but Lord Dalton certainly did not. Dalton was so enraged at the news that Lord Grayson thought it wise to decamp to Crackwilder’s apartment lest his friend do a violence to him. Mrs. Radish-Radeesh was convinced to give over a room and Grayson and LaRue spent an uncomfortable week together in it before the duke, his father, was convinced to release him some funds.
Much to society’s surprise, Miss Dell and Lord Grayson were indeed wed. They took a wedding trip to Sweden, and there Lord Grayson called upon some of his vague connections. One of those was Baron von Fersen, who was charmed by Kitty, though he remained annoyed with Grayson. He was somewhat mollified after hearing the story of Veritas. But not entirely.
In the end, they came home after a month, glad to leave all thought of Veritas behind. They settled in their new London house, their bedchamber a clear depiction of them both. Velvet and cushions and a tall bookshelf for Kitty. An enormous looking glass and one of the bookshelves given over to poetry and plays for Grayson. Even Miss Austen was given her own space on the shelf and Kitty secretly became enamored ofPride and Prejudice.
Kitty spent her mornings in bed, surrounded by her preferred books. As the day grew late, Lord Grayson would make his entrance as sharply composed as ever. He would pick out her dress, as Kitty herself could not be bothered with such things, and he would even direct poor Martha as she did her mistress’ hair.
Lady Grayson became something of a leader of fashion, though she did not spare much thought over it. Whatever her lord thought would suit she was happy to wear. Many a young girl recently come to town would daringly approach Lady Grayson for advice on this bonnet or that silk, only to find themselves floundering in a conversation about hemi-parasitic plants.
Lady Grayson pursued her endless thirst for knowledge, though the Royal Society never did admit women in her lifetime. Mr. Crackwilder was a great help in her pursuits, as he was promptly hired as Lady Grayson’s librarian. Mr. Lackington and Mrs. Herschel remained constant in their exchange of letters.
Though her exclusion from the society was an irritation for a time, Kitty finally hit upon an idea. She created her own society of learned women who met weekly during the season and wrote to each other in the summer. As Mrs. Herschel was an esteemed member, it was not too long before members of the Royal Society began petitioning to attend the various presentations put on by the ladies. That led to the “great trading of papers” in which gentlemen and ladies could communicate freely on their discoveries and conclusions. Mankind’s knowledge of how flies walked on walls was all the better for it.
Lord Grayson, to his credit, never lost his enthusiasm for listening to his wife as she explained some obscure fact, or pondered a new conclusion, or recapped the latest meeting of the Society of Women Intellectuals. He understood her perfectly well, though how long he retained any of this information might be a question for debate.
