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Epilogue
Eleven years later…
Isabel wrung her hands in front of her, feeling as nervous as if it was her debut.But, no. At her debut, she was not nervous at all. She was delighted, bright-eyed, and absolutely excited for the next chapter of her life.
But today, Isabel had butterflies rioting in her stomach. She had been preparing for this night for two long months. The invitations, menus, decor, and everything else had taken a great deal of effort. The night seemed like a success, and still, Isabel felt as though she’d forgotten something.
Had she?
“You’re beautiful,” a low voice of her husband announced just behind her ear.
His warm breath moved the wisps of her hair, and shivers ran down her spine. He stepped closer then, his arm snaking around her waist. His hand burned through the layers of her clothes, tipping her off balance and anchoring her at the same time.
Isabel looked around at the crowd surrounding them. The open display of affection would once again get them in trouble. It wasn’t proper, Isabel knew. But at the moment, she was too nervous to care.
So she accepted the embrace and leaned her back against Rhys’s hard chest. She covered his hand on her waist with hers, her breaths evening out, her heartbeat slowing to the regular rhythm.
“How is she?” Isabel asked.
“Just like she was five minutes ago when you checked on her. Fearless.” His voice held a note of pride.
Isabel smiled. “She gets that from you.”
“I am confident everything good in her is from you.” Rhys kissed the top of her head.
Isabel let out a nervous chuckle and was about to wriggle away from his arms, but Rhys tightened his hold on her.
“Stay awhile,” he whispered.
“I can’t.” Isabel let out a deep sigh. “People will start gossiping again. And that’s the last thing Millie needs. We must behave with decorum.”
“Then why did you lean against me?” His low voice caused goosebumps to rise on her skin and a tingle low in her belly. Even after more than a decade, he still made her heart race.
“Because I needed your strength,” she said, her voice oddly breathless.
Another kiss to the top of her head, and then he let go of her and stepped away.
Isabel reeled, not quite ready for him to leave, although she was the one who’d asked for it. Rhys stepped forward and placed his hand on the small of her back.
She looked up at him with a smile, love shining through her eyes.
“Lady Millicent Townsend,” Mr. Monroe announced from the top of the stairs, and all eyes moved to the lone figure making her way down.
Millicent glided gracefully in a shimmering blue gown, her eyes shining with happiness and a smile on her face. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
Tears burned at the back of Isabel’s eyes as she remembered the small, uncoordinated little girl who tripped with her every attempt at a curtsy. She certainly had grown.
Rhys offered his arm to Isabel, and they both stepped forward to meet their daughter at the bottom of the stairs.
She sank into a deep curtsy before them, and Isabel placed a hand to her heart lest it escaped the confines of her body.
“You are the most beautiful debutante I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“You are gorgeous,” Rhys echoed. “How do you feel?”
Millicent smiled as she took her father’s proffered arm. “Like I am ready to conquer the world.”
