Epilogue
One month later
AS SHE GLANCED in the looking glass on the morning of her wedding, Grace forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply to maintain her composure. Every time she contemplated the approaching ceremony that would make her a wife and mother, she feared she would burst into tears of joy.
The woman who looked back at her from the glass was as different as could be from the one who had come to Nethercross the previous winter. Instead of an unflattering starched cap, a circlet of ivy and myrtle studded with white roses from the conservatory at Winterhill set off her golden curls to perfection. Her unflattering dress of sickly green had been replaced by a simple but elegant white gown and a spencer of coral pink velvet. Her eyes were no longer obscured by spectacles but shone with happiness.
Grace beheld her reflection with a warm glow of contentment. Though she wanted to look nice for Rupert and the girls, she trusted they would love her every bit as much if she were still plain and dowdy.
In the distance she heard church bells toll the half hour, followed by a knock on her door.
“Are you ready, Miss Ella?” Charlotte called in an anxious tone. “Lord and Lady Benedict are here to take us to the church.”
“I am quite ready.” Grace opened the door and savored the child’s gasp of admiration. “Are you and your sisters? We do not want to keep your papa waiting.”
“We’ve been ready for ages, at Charlotte’s insistence,” said Phoebe, who stood nearby holding Sophie’s hand. “I hope she won’t go back to bossing us so much just because you aren’t in the nursery to keep her in line.”
“Now, now.” Grace’s nerves calmed as she fell back in to her familiar role with the children. “Let’s not spoil such a happy day with quarreling. You all look lovely. We will make a splendid bridal party, don’t you think?”
Before they went downstairs to meet the Benedicts, she gathered each of the girls into her arms for a kiss. “One of the sweetest blessings this day will bring me is three such delightful daughters.”
“Stepdaughters,” Sophie reminded her.
“Call it what you will.” Grace gave the child’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I shall love you just as much.”
When they descended the stairs a few moments later, Rebecca blinked back tears as she caught sight of Grace. “I always knew you would make the most beautiful bride.”
The two friends embraced.
“I am so happy you could come to my wedding,” said Grace. “I only wish Hannah, Leah and Evangeline could have been here, too.”
Rebecca nodded. “It is too great a distance for Evangeline to come from the Lake Country and Leah has just settled into a new position. As for Hannah, she has her hands full down in Kent. I shall tell you her news on our way.”
They all bundled into Lord Benedict’s fine carriage and drove to the church. Rebecca kept up a constant flow of news about their friends, no doubt hoping to divert the bride from any wedding jitters.
But Grace found herself surprisingly calm.
Once they reached the church, Sophie, Phoebe and Charlotte marched down the aisle ahead of her while Grace followed on the arm of Lord Benedict. As they approached the altar, Rupert turned for a first glimpse of his governess bride. His eyes widened and he appeared to catch his breath at the sight of her. His lips spread into a wide, doting smile that made Grace’s heart swell with happiness.
“Dearly beloved,” began the vicar and the marriage ceremony proceeded according to its age-old form.
When it came time to recite their vows, Grace and Rupert stared into each other’s eyes and spoke as if there was no one else present. Though she knew her bridegroom had made those same sacred promises to his first wife, Grace did not feel it diminished his commitment to her in any way. Indeed, knowing what a devoted husband he had been to Annabelle, she believed with all her heart that he would show her the same love, fidelity and kindness.
Later, when Sophie read the lesson without making a single mistake her parents exchanged proud, fond smiles.
At last the service concluded, the parish register was signed and the happy couple left the church hand-in-hand to return to Nethercross for the wedding breakfast.
Once they were settled in the carriage, Rupert leaned back in the seat and gave a warm chuckle mingled with a sigh of supreme contentment. “I must confess, dear wife, that I had an anxious moment or two while I stood at the altar awaiting your arrival.”
“Indeed?” Grace cast him a flirtatious smile, delighted that as a married couple they no longer had to mind so much about propriety. “And what did you have to be anxious about, pray? Did you entertain second thoughts about marrying me?”
She felt secure enough in his affections to jest about a matter she might once have feared in earnest.
“Quite the contrary.” He slipped his arm around her and drew her even closer. “I had an unreasonable fear that you might change your mind or some misfortune might prevent you from keeping our appointment with the vicar. But when I saw you come up the aisle looking so serene and happy, I knew all would be well.”
By now they have driven out of sight of the small crowd of wedding guests gathered in the churchyard. Rupert took advantage of their privacy to seal their union with a slow, sweet, tender kiss.
Grace returned it with all the feeling she cherished in her heart for him. Not long ago, she would have been plagued by fears of what might go wrong, unable to trust in her good fortune. But now she looked forward to their future with faith, hope and love.
THE END