Epilogue
These two
Imparadised in one another’s arms.
The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill
Of bliss on bliss.
– John Milton (1608-1674)
Belle Mansion
September 25, 1814
The Beauvisage home was a hive of celebration and reunion on the day of Grey and Natalya’s wedding. Servants, including Pierre and Hyla, the Stringfellows, and Laviolet Pritchard, labored in the sun-washed garden arranging flowers, decorations, and white-draped buffet tables laden with champagne and food. Male voices could be heard inside the back cottage, where Grey and the other men had been banished. Female laughter floated out to the garden through the upstairs windows. The entire upper floor of Belle Maison had been taken over by women.
Natalya stood in the center of her bedchamber wearing a ruffled chemise cut very low in front and a creamy satin petticoat encrusted with lustrous pearls and fiery diamonds. Her burnished curls were piled loosely atop her head, a cluster of long ringlets falling over one shoulder. Charlotte was pinning lilies of the valley, which had been forced in the hothouse for this occasion, here and there amid the curls, while Caro adjusted the petticoat and stood back to have a look.
“Your great-grandmere must be beaming with pleasure as she watches over us,” she whispered. “How proud she would be!”
“As soon as I knew we would be married here, I began thinking about this gown,” Natalya replied. “I knew that Great-Grandmere had given it to you to wear on your wedding day, Maman, but I scarcely dared hope that it would be so perfectly preserved after nearly ninety years....”
“This is so romantic!” exclaimed Marianne Beauvisage.
Etienne’s wife was sitting on the high field bed, slim and lovely in a chemise gown of white muslin with a violet spencer that set off her glossy black hair. On her lap she held little Faith, who was sitting up rather unsteadily and clapping. With her baby in tow, Marianne had traveled down from New York for the wedding, praying that her husband might somehow find a way to join them. One of the most exciting moments thus far had been his appearance on the doorstep of Belle Maison. Tanned and handsome in his uniform, he’d explained that General Strickler had given him leave to come north from Baltimore because of his heroic conduct during the attack on Fort McHenry.
After the nation’s capital had been savaged by the British in August, every city on the eastern seaboard had spent the next few weeks fearing that it would be next. Rising to the occasion, Philadelphia had begun to dig entrenchments, enlist recruits, and sew uniforms. To everyone’s relief, however, the British had passed over them, striking instead at Baltimore. The Beauvisages had guessed that Etienne’s regiment might be there, and though they’d learned that the British ships had been turned back, they’d been unsure of Etienne’s fate until last night, when he’d materialized at Belle Maison.
Marianne had the dreamy look of a new bride herself, and it was difficult for her to be away from her husband even for this hour. When a knock sounded from behind the secret panel in the bedchamber wall, Caro said, “I’ll wager that’s my son, sneaking over here from Grandmere’s cottage.”
Marianne, who knew nothing of Belle Maison’s hidden passageways, laughed in disbelief. “How could Etienne be in the wall?”
“Cover yourselves,” her husband called, “because I’m coming in!”
Etienne, who was just three years Natalya’s senior, often remarked that he had lived the first eighteen years of his life “with Talya in my pocket.” She had forced him to play with her, he had alternated between resentment and protectiveness, they had shared dreams and fights and high-spirited pranks, and there had always been a special bond between them. Now, as he stepped into her bedchamber, Etienne smiled at Marianne but went first to his sister.
“How beautiful you are, Talya,” he declared, holding her hands and smiling into her eyes.
“I’m only half dressed!” She laughed. “But, after all the names you called me when we were children, I must say that it’s satisfying to extract a compliment from you.”
“I don’t think ‘potato face’ fits you anymore,” Etienne admitted, joining in her laughter.
She looked up at her brother, who was tall and dark like their father, and touched his cheek. “I missed so much these past six years. It makes me indescribably happy that this wedding has brought together so many people I love. I wish that Uncle Nicky and Aunt Lisette and James and Adrienne could be here, but they’ve written us a splendid letter, promising to visit in the spring. How fortunate we are to have such a wonderful family, with new members added like branches on a tree. I have a new sister, and a beautiful niece—”
“And I am about to gain a brother,” Etienne agreed, with a grin. Taking Faith from her mother, he kissed her plump cheek and added, “Grey even looks like my brother!”
Just then Kristin came in from her room across the hall. As her sister’s bridesmaid, she had chosen a gown of pale pink satin designed in a more current fashion, but embroidered with pearls and bits of crystal in patterns similar to those on her great-grandmere’s wedding gown. In her black curls she wore a garland of pink rosebuds and lilies of the valley.
“How do I look?” she asked, doing a little pirouette inside the doorway. As she spun around, she glimpsed her brother and gave a cry of outrage. “Etienne! What are you doing here? Don’t you know that no men are allowed upstairs before the wedding?”
“I couldn’t resist exploring the secret passageways again, and before I knew it, here I was,” he replied, with a disarming grin.
“That’s no excuse.” She turned to Caro. “Maman, you must make him go. He’s probably spying and will tell all the men what we’re wearing!”
“You sound just as you did when you were five years old,” Etienne observed dryly. When Faith made a cooing sound, he patted her bottom and added, “Even my daughter agrees, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Caro motioned to Kristin to join them and smiled radiantly at her three children. “Now, I won’t have you quarreling. This is a mother’s dream, having the three of you together again on such a joyous occasion.”
“I was only teasing, Krissie,” her brother said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Actually, although I was missing my wife and daughter, I also came to tell you all that guests are beginning to arrive. Believe it or not, Andre and Devon Raveneau are here from Connecticut—”
“What?” Caro exclaimed. “They’ve come back from England, then? How exciting! I wrote to invite them to the wedding, but I never dreamed they would be able to come.”
Etienne nodded. “Apparently they’d just returned home when your letter arrived and they decided to travel down on a whim. Lindsay is with them, too, but she’s now Mrs. Coleraine, arm in arm with her new husband. Nathan remained in London, but Mouette and her children sailed back to America with the others. Seems she was recently widowed....”
“Goodness,” Caro murmured. “I’ll have to go down soon and greet them. Such a lot of news in their family!”
“Papa’s with them, hearing about their adventures in Britain,” Etienne assured her, “and the Hampshires have just arrived, so Lion and Andre and Papa are having quite a reunion.”
“Is Aunt Natalya coming with Grandmama?” Kristin inquired. “She was supposed to arrive in Philadelphia last night.”
“Well, we’ll soon see,” Caro said.
Natalya, her face shining with pleasure, declared, “This is the most splendid day of my life! Etienne, you must go now so that I can finish dressing. It seems an eternity since I’ve seen Grey, and I am prodigiously anxious to become his wife.”
Handing his daughter back to Marianne, Etienne remarked, “Allow me to assure you, beautiful sister, that your future husband shares your impatience.” He stepped into the opening in the wall and called, “Farewell, ladies!”
* * *
The wedding guests were all assembled in the garden, which was still bright with the colors of dahlias, asters, phlox, butterfly bushes, chrysanthemums, and autumn crocuses. It was a glorious afternoon, cool and sunny, and the guests were in a festive mood. Caro was chatting animatedly with her sister-in-law, Natalya Beauvisage Andrews, and the Raveneaus and newly married Coleraines, when Alec drew out his watch and pointed. Bishop William White emerged from the cottage, followed by Grey and Jasper Speed. The three men stood at the end of the garden’s main brick footpath, and Grey surveyed the crowd.
Many of the guests from the Hampshires’ party were here, including Charles Willson Peale, his sons, and a group of Natalya’s childhood friends. Susan Hampshire was chatting gayly with a redheaded Irishman named Patrick O’Hara, who had crossed the Atlantic with the Raveneau family. Minutes after meeting, Susie and Patrick appeared to be in a world of their own, while the Hampshires looked on in consternation. Antonia Beauvisage, Barton Saunders, and Hollis Gladstone stood in the front row behind a cluster of rosebushes, where they were joined by Etienne, Marianne, and little Faith Beauvisage. Also present were two of Alec’s sisters, Danielle and Katya, and their families. His third sister, Natalya, was with Caro.
Grey felt completely relaxed under the scrutiny of the assembled guests although he wondered how long it would take for him to sort them all out. His impeccably tailored suit was black, his shirt and cravat white as snow against his bronzed face, and his waistcoat was threaded with silver like his hair, which gleamed in the sunlight. Jasper Speed stood proudly beside his master, one hand against the pocket that held the golden band Grey would place on the finger of his bride.
“It’s rather a shame,” he whispered to Grey, “that there’s no one here from home... you know, from your side.”
“I hope we’re all on the same side now,” he replied, flashing a grin. “And, you are here, my friend.”
Caro had slipped into the house with her sister-in-law, who had been her own first friend at Belle Maison thirty years before. “Here comes your namesake,” she whispered to Natalya Andrews, and they looked up to behold her daughters sailing down the stairs with Charlotte Timkins fussing in their wake.
Natalya looked spectacular in her great-grandmother’s wedding gown, a Watteau-style robe a la francois of rich creamy satin that perfectly complemented her creamy skin and honey-hued curls. The loose overdress, edged with pearls and diamonds, was open to reveal a matching petticoat, and the plunging neckline culminated in a dazzling profusion of jewels. She carried a bouquet of lilies of the valley, pink rosebuds, and lilies, and her face glowed with joy and anticipation.
“Good lord, Caro, she looks exactly like you!” the older Natalya gasped. “And, in Grandmere’s gown... it’s almost eerie!”
“She has Beauvisage eyes,” Caro replied softly, even as her own vision misted.
Alec had entered through the garden doors and came up behind his wife, slipping his arms around her waist. “My sister is right,” he whispered staring at Natalya and remembering his own wedding.
Natalya met her parents and aunt at the foot of the stairs, embracing each of them in turn. “Aunt Natalya, I am so glad you could come. How I have missed you!”
“It’s a happy day... and you are marrying a devastatingly attractive man!”
“I know.” She nodded, smiling shyly. “I can scarcely wait.”
“Well, he is waiting, so we’d best get on with it,” Alec said. “Caro, you and Natalya had better join the others in front.”
The two ladies exited, and Kristin was just preparing to step out into the sunlit garden, when a carriage came clattering up the drive. Almost immediately, the front door flew open and Fedbusk burst into the house, sunburned and grimy.
“God’s eyes,” he cried. “I was afraid we were too late!”
“Fedbusk!” Natalya exclaimed, tears springing to her eyes. “You came back for our wedding! Grey will be overjoyed to see you.”
“’Tis not only me, miss.” Stepping to one side, he bowed his head as a tall, austere-looking man with white hair entered the house and walked through the stair hall toward Natalya and her father.
“I cannot believe my eyes,” Alec said softly. “It’s Lord Hartford.” He hurried forward to greet Grey’s father and bring him back to Natalya’s side.
“This must be the bride,” his lordship said, with a thin smile. “You ought to know, my dear, that it was your letter that persuaded me to go to all this trouble. I was quite... moved, one might say, by what you wrote. Decided that my son deserved congratulations for making such an exceptionally fine choice.”
Fedbusk looked on in horror as Natalya Beauvisage hugged the Earl of Hartford, a man whom no one ever touched. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she drew back to say, “I hope to be a true daughter to you, my lord. I love Grey with all my heart, so you and I already have that in common.”
Although he smiled only slightly, Hartford’s ice-blue eyes seemed to thaw as he regarded her. “Don’t press me too hard, my dear. I’m not one for emotion—but I do like you.”
“They’re waiting for us,” Alec said gently. “I’ll take Lord Hartford and...”
“Fedbusk, Papa,” Natalya supplied, beaming.
“And Fedbusk out to join your mother and the rest of the family, then I’ll return for you, my darling.”
* * *
Grey was beginning to feel restless and warm in the sunshine when he saw Alec Beauvisage appear again in the garden. His heart seemed to stop as he stared, first at a travel-stained Fedbusk, and then at someone who looked incredibly like his own father. Where had Fedbusk come from, and who was that man?
“Blister me, sir, it’s his lordship!” Speed whispered at Grey’s shoulder.
“That is impossible.”
Taken aback by his master’s decisive response, Speed fell silent. The old man paused at the front of the crowd, then walked up to them.
“I can hardly blame you for looking as if you’d seen a ghost,” Hartford said to his son in tones of mild irony. “However, it is I. Father of the groom, I perceive, hmm?” He was about to return to the others, then turned back. “Grey, that bride of yours is an exquisite woman. I like her immensely.”
Somehow Grey found his voice and replied, “I’m glad, Father. Thank you for coming.”
With that, the earl went back to stand beside Caroline. A few moments later Kristin appeared, followed by Natalya on her father’s arm. Grey couldn’t believe his eyes; she looked like a vision from a childhood fairy tale, her lush beauty mingling with rich satin, pearls, flowers, and sparkling gems. As she reached his side and smiled at him through tears of joy, he sensed as well the spiritual embrace of her family, their friends, and, miraculously, his own father.
He took his bride’s hands as the minister began to speak. My heart is full, he thought, gazing at her with pure love in his eyes. They had already come so far together, and they would spend the rest of their lives finishing the journey.
The End