Francie stepped back. "All this time?" She'd never thought much about her correspondence with Jack. It was just something they'd done, without fail, since she'd started visiting that side of her family in Derbyshire.

"Of course."

'When she included notes from you I didn't realize..." Francie felt tears well up. She would not cry and get all blotchy in her ball finery. Dammit. But she'd had a family and group of friends that she'd been connected to through Jack all these years. She'd assumed Jack had simply included anecdotes and quotes from all of them from memory. She'd never thought that her cousin might be reading her letters to the family and they were all discussing them and deciding together what to send back to her in Cleadon. She sniffled. "That's simply charming."

Uncle John chuckled chuckled. "You're quite the entertaining writer. We will look forward to hearing what you think of the islands."

She had family. Real family that she'd been ignoring all these years. And now she was planning to sail off in another month. It wasn't fair!

On the other hand, she and Reggie now had the tentative blessing of both of their families.

"Oh!" she said. "I almost forgot! We have to go to breakfast at Viscount Goldshire's in the morning."

"We do?" Uncle John asked.

"Yes. That will be the very final, everyone is in agreement discussion."

"Very well, then. If I must."

"Thank you! I love you, Uncle John." She impulsively hugged him again.

"I love you, too, precious." He took her hand. "Your father would be very pleased that you can follow his dream of spending more time at sea."

Drat, now she really was starting to cry. "I know," she said softly.

Uncle John looked at Reggie. "Take good care of her."

"I will, sir."

With that, her uncle walked back to the crush of the house.

"That went better than expected," Reggie said.

"It did?"

"This morning the earl said that if your uncle called me out that I could expect to see him on the dueling field instead."

"Uncle John? A duel?" She laughed. "That's preposterous. He's one of the gentlest people I know."

"I doubt the earl is."

"I have a lot of stories to catch you up on with my family." She laughed, but then felt a piercing pain in her heart. "Oh. Oh, my letters from Jack burned."

He took her hand. "I'm sorry, love."

"As am I."

"We will just have to gather new memories."

She smiled up at him. "Yes," she said. "New memories in a new life."

 

***

 

Reggie had felt concern that the cloudy morning was an inauspicious start to their wedding day, but when the clouds parted at the beginning of the ceremony he felt he was able to breathe easier. Francie had extracted a promise from Lady Jack that the countess would document all the details of this day in a letter so that they could start collecting their new memories. Just now, looking down at his soon to be wife beside him, he was grateful that she'd thought to ask. He didn't want to forget any moment of it. Francie glowed in a pale blue and silver gown that was somehow even more ethereal than the one she'd worn to the ball. Reggie wasn't sure he heard any of the words of the ceremony, he was so focused on her. He only realized he was supposed to respond to the clergyman's question when she looked up at him expectantly. He'd stopped listening at some point during Harry and Phoebe's vows and didn't realize it was time for their own!

Then, amazingly, it was done. She was his wife in truth, smiling up at him with joy in her crystalline blue eyes. A crack of thunder and sudden patter of rain sent the laughing wedding attendees scattering from the Caversham gardens to find cover in the duke's spacious house.

As they mingled and chatted, Reggie finally had a moment with Harry.

“When do you leave for Edinburgh?” Reggie asked.

“We have time. My classes don’t begin until mid-September. I’m thinking of taking Cav up on his offer to stay at his hunting box north of Aberdeen. According to Amelia The Box, as they call it, is very remote and romantic. And Cav says the shooting and fishing are superb.”

“Ah, so there’s something for the both of you,” Reggie teased. He saw their wives enter the room and raised his glass in their direction. “My God, Harry, they are incredibly beautiful, are they not?”

Harry grunted his agreement, clearly distracted by staring at his wife in her pale lemon and silver gown. “Who knew Wally had such charming women in his family?”

“You were lucky, she wasn’t taken from you,” Reggie said, still sorry that he'd not been in London to help his friend when Phoebe had been in Donovan's clutches.

“I completely agree.” Manners-Sutton had his jaw set, but Reggie heard the slight crack in his voice that revealed precisely how deeply it affected him. Changing the subject he asked, “And how soon do you sail for Bermuda?”

“Day after tomorrow, morning tide,” Reggie replied. “Francie wants to spend the day shopping tomorrow.” He gave a disgusted sigh, knowing the role expected of him. The truth was, he loved nothing better than having her show him her new clothing. So he could take it off of her. “Somehow, someway, I will need to find that reserve of patience people say exists.”

Harry laughed. “Reg, it’s not on the outside my friend, it’s on the inside. I know you don’t like looking there, but that’s where it is.”

Now that was probably advice he could use. Not that he would use it.

“Where what is?” Phoebe asked, threading her arm through her husband's as she joined the conversation.

Reggie smiled at her. “We were talking about where to shop for your bonnet tomorrow. Harry knows these things, don’t ask why.”

“Oh my,” she said. "I almost want to ask.”

 He teased Harry's wife. "Oh, it’s best you didn’t. I’m afraid it might change your opinion of him. And that wouldn’t be good.” He kissed Phoebe’s gloved hand. “Besides, you’ve already married him. I’m not taking him back.”

Francie wound her arms through his and he covered her hand with his own as he smiled down at her. He didn't think it was possible to love her any more than he did, yet somehow his love for her continued to grow every day.

“Sweetheart," she said, "you have not seen me when I’m burned from the sun. I get cantankerous—argumentative even.”

“No different than you are every other day, I suppose," he said with a wink.

She playfully smacked his forearm with her free hand. “Have I told you that I believe in husbands and wives keeping separate bedrooms? I do, you know.”

Reggie grinned. “I see I must find us smaller lodgings. After all, we were so happy in Cleadon, when you weren’t pointing your pistol at me.”