Epilogue
Change is said to be beneficial. A time for growth and adaptation, development, and lessons. This author finds change to be a rather annoying pest of a thing, and not entirely agreeable. Change may surprise you, and surprises are not always pleasant.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 7 April 1818
“This meeting of the Spinsters, with a capital S, is now called to order.”
“You needn’t make it sound so bleak.”
“Isn’t it bleak? We are one member short.”
“And yet we’ve gained one.”
“Thank you for the lovely reminder.”
“Edith, don’t be so droll!”
“You’re not actually a spinster.”
Edith raised a questioning brow at that. “With or without a capital S, Charlotte?”
Charlotte scowled at her across the room. “Without, of course. We’ve already made you an official Spinster.”
“Is there a badge of some sort for that?” she inquired mildly, looking over at Grace. “Or a brooch?”
Izzy clamped down on her lip hard, biting back giggles.
“As I was saying,” Charlotte pressed on very firmly, “this meeting is called to order.”
Elinor sat up straighter in her chair, but she seemed the only one paying any attention.
Edith frowned a little. “Is it always this formal?”
“No,” Izzy and Grace said together, while Prue merely shook her head.
“I see.” Edith nodded, a small smile forming. “And is Charlotte always in charge?”
Charlotte threw her another hard look while the others giggled.
“No one is in charge, really,” Izzy told her. “But since Georgie married, she seems to have taken over.”
“Commandeered the group,” Grace offered.
“Seized the throne,” Elinor chimed in.
Prue said nothing but seemed amused by the banter.
“Oh, very well,” Charlotte grumbled, sitting down on the sofa. “I just so hate change.”
“We know,” Grace assured her.
Charlotte hummed in irritation. “Everybody, just work on your writing, and I’ll shut up.”
Everybody laughed and turned to the pieces of paper they had.
Edith looked around in confusion. “What am I to write? I’m not particularly good at anything.”
“I’ll help you,” Elinor offered, sliding her chair closer. “We’ll do the Social Calendar. It’s less writing and more factual.”
Edith nodded, looking grateful. “Thank you, Elinor.” She looked sheepishly around at the rest. “I don’t suppose I’m used to being a Spinster yet. I’m not sure of the way of things.”
“Oh, nobody is,” a voice from the hall chortled. “We all just make it up as we go along.”
“Georgie!” they all cried, seeming as one.
Georgie appeared in the doorway with a bit of flair, grinning at them all. “Good day, Spinsters, and how are we faring this fine Writing Day?”
Everybody arose quickly and moved to embrace their friend, laughing and chattering rapidly.
“Slow down, slow down,” Georgie told them all, waving them back. “I’ve still not managed to reply to everybody at once.”
“Georgie, we thought you weren’t due back for three days!” Izzy squealed, her face flushed with excitement.
Georgie smiled at her. “We weren’t, but Brighton is not nearly so exciting as we thought, and we grew tired of it, so we’re back early. We’re just getting set up in the house here, so you’re all invited to call as early as Friday.”
“I will be there tomorrow,” Charlotte proclaimed with a prim nod.
“Of course you will,” Georgie replied with a snort. “I’ll warn Tony.”
“And how is your handsome husband?” Izzy teased, biting her lip.
Georgie’s smile turned mischievous. “Very well, and very handsome. And very underfoot as I try to set up the house.”
That made them all laugh, including Prue.
“But he sends you all his regards,” Georgie went on, “and to assure you that the only reason he is not here with me is because it is Writing Day, and he knows better.”
“Hmph.” Elinor grunted, still not quite forgiving Tony, or Hugh, for what had happened. “Too right.”
“That is a lovely gown, Georgie,” Grace told her, eyeing the green-striped muslin and dark pelisse with envy. “It does suit you so well.”
Georgie rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Grace. Miranda insisted on providing me with a whole trousseau, and I’ve only just gotten around to wearing anything from it. She does have splendid taste, though.”
“But your wedding dress was exquisite,” Edith reminded her warmly.
Georgie shrugged, smiling in embarrassment. “She insisted on that, too.” She waved her hands quickly. “Enough about me! It is Writing Day! What are we working on?”
The Spinsters looked at each other in confusion.
“What?” Georgie asked, glancing around. “What is it?”
“Georgie…” Izzy began slowly. “You’re married. You’re not a spinster anymore. You don’t have to write for the Chronicles.”
Georgie looked at her cousin quizzically. “I didn’t write for the chronicles because I was a spinster, capital S or not. I did it because I loved it. And I will always be a Spinster at heart. So. Which section can I write?”
The others conferred on that, but Georgie suddenly found her attention drawn to Prue, seated further away than the rest.
“Prue,” she said softly. “You’re very quiet. Is anything the matter?”
“N-no,” Prue replied with a quick shake of her head, more intent on her paper. “No, n-nothing at all.”
Georgie frowned at that, hearing the nervous stammer, but she could hardly press her before the others.
“Take up the Quirks and Quotes,” Charlotte settled, handing Georgie a sheet of paper. “You’re always good at that.”
Georgie took the page but gave her friend a skeptical look. “I’ve been away from London for three weeks.”
Charlotte waved a hand. “Just quote Miss Austen and we’ll see if anybody notices.”
“Does your husband really know you’re here?” Elinor demanded, still disgruntled.
Georgie nodded, unable to keep from smiling. “He does. It was his idea, actually.”
Elinor hadn’t expected that and looked at Grace for help.
But Grace was smiling in wonder. “You have married a remarkable man, Georgie.”
Georgie’s smile grew, and her heart warmed at the thought of him. “Oh, I know,” she sighed. Then she straightened up, eyes twinkling. “And while I may be more limited in my time with you, and less involved in our usual activities, I have found something new to occupy my mind and time.”
“Oh?” Izzy asked, perking up excitedly.
“Yes,” Georgie replied with a firm nod. She gave them all a very smug smile. “I intend to see you all married.”
Everyone exclaimed something at that, crying out their opinions, but Georgie was firm in the face of their interjections.
“No, no,” she insisted. “Not to save you from spinsterhood, you know how I feel about that. But because it is a remarkable amount of fun, and I insist on you all participating.”
“Done that,” Edith muttered, widening her eyes.
“For about five minutes!” everyone said together, laughing at their unison.
Prue sat very still in her seat, staring at her paper, a handful of words written there, but none of them clear just now.
She’d never thought she’d marry, given her marked impediments, but she’d always thought it could have been a lovely change.
But now…
Now…
The very idea terrified her more than anything ever had.
And it was only the beginning.