EPILOGUE
London
December 1828
WHEN ISA ARRIVED at the Duke of Lyons’s town house to join the duke and duchess and Victor for dinner there, she was feeling rather blue. But she didn’t wish to put a damper on the evening, so she pasted a smile to her lips as she knocked.
To her surprise, her husband opened the door and he was alone. Usually the place swarmed with footmen and maids.
When he greeted her with a kiss, then took her coat, she teased, “Do tell me you haven’t left Manton’s Investigations to take a position as Max’s footman.”
“I doubt Max would approve of footmen who kissed the guests. I just wanted a moment alone with you.” He searched her face. “How was Jacoba?”
She should have known her husband would see through her determined good cheer. “How do you think? Her husband is dead, and she’s off to the Australian colonies in a few weeks.”
“You’re not regretting that we held firm on seeing her prosecuted.”
“Absolutely not. She helped her evil husband take our daughter! I can never forgive that, and she knows it. But seeing her there in Newgate, with the other women, and knowing that she would soon be half a world away . . .”
“Made you remember when times were good.”
She nodded. “When I was little, she was the one who coddled me, warmed chocolate for me to drink, and took care of my sore throats. I hate that Gerhart twisted her into someone I no longer recognized.”
“So do I, for your sake.”
Taking in a deep breath, she forced her frown from her brow. “Well, enough about that. I shall try to put it behind me for the evening. I don’t want to make Max and Lisette gloomy, too.”
A strange expression passed over his face. “I’m sure they’ll understand if your spirits are low.”
They walked down the hall toward the drawing room, arm in arm. It had taken a while for her to grow accustomed to the palatial mansion that was the duke’s town house, but after two months in London, having put Amalie into school and settled into her new home with Victor, she’d begun to feel very comfortable.
Soon she would have to decide whether to set up a new jeweler’s shop in London, now that she’d sold her share of the Edinburgh shop to Mr. Gordon. But at the moment she was content to get to know her husband and his new family, to spend time mending the past.
They entered the drawing room and she halted. This was no intimate family dinner with Max and Lisette. Dom and Tristan were both here, along with Mr. Gordon, Dr. Worth, Mary Grace, and Rupert.
Barreling out of the crowd came Amalie, dressed in her latest and most fashionable gown. “Mama, Mama, you’ve come at last!”
Amalie was supposed to be having dinner with a little friend from school! “How did you get here?” Isa exclaimed, then glanced at Victor. “What’s going on?”
“It’s the tenth anniversary of our wedding, my love,” Victor said softly.
Flummoxed, she swiftly dredged her memory and realized he was right. “Oh, dear—I’m so sorry, Victor. I utterly forgot.”
“What with the trial and Jacoba, it’s a wonder you even remember your own name. But I couldn’t let it pass without a celebration.” He nodded to where the duke and duchess stood smiling. “And since we wouldn’t be together again if not for my relations and the Duke’s Men, I thought you wouldn’t mind if they were included.”
As everyone crowded round her, she somehow managed, “Thank you. You’re all so kind,” and then promptly burst into tears. When Victor looked a little alarmed, she choked out, “This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
His face cleared. “That’s all right then,” he said gruffly, clearly a little choked up himself.
As he offered her his handkerchief, Amalie pushed her way through to the front. “You haven’t even seen the cake yet, Mama. It has fleurs-de-lis all over it!”
“Spiders, you mean,” Rupert teased her as he came up to kiss Isa on the cheek, then murmured, “I do hope you’ll be at our wedding anniversary celebration in a little more than ten years.”
As Mary Grace slid up beside him, blushing as always, Isa broke into a broad smile. “You’re engaged?” Not that she was terribly surprised, though she had expected Lady Lochlaw to make more of a fuss about it.
“Miss Gordon has made me the happiest of men,” Rupert said as he took the young woman’s hand. “I hope you’ll all three be at the wedding.”
“Of course!” Isa hugged them both. “We wouldn’t miss it!”
After they moved aside, Tristan pushed in to grab her hand and kiss it with a little flourish. When Victor scowled at him, he laughed. “Your husband neglected to tell you the real reason he’s having this celebration—so you won’t be angry when he informs you that he has a case in Devonshire next week, and will be gone for at least two weeks.”
Isa laughed. “He already told me.”
“Nice try,” Victor said smugly. “But a clever husband never pulls the wool over his wife’s eyes—not unless he wants to have it shoved down his throat. Just a bit of advice for when you are married.”
Tristan’s smile looked forced. “Why should I marry, when there are plenty of ripe peaches waiting to be plucked in the drawing rooms of London?”
“Better be careful,” Victor said. “Peaches have stones, and you might just find yourself choking on them.”
“Excellent advice,” Dr. Worth said as he came up to shake her hand. “A pity that Bonnaud is unlikely to pay it any mind.”
When Tristan laughed, Dom moved up beside him. “Yes, Victor, good luck with trying to knock any sense into my younger brother. He likes to live dangerously.”
“Anything else is boring,” Tristan shot back. He grinned at the doctor. “Besides, I’ve got Worth here to patch me up if I get into trouble. Come on, Doctor, let’s see if we can find some.”
As the young doctor allowed Tristan to pull him away, Dom shook his head.
Isa had really grown to like the man after Victor had begun working with him. Tristan could be fun to tease, but he was also exasperating; Dom was as solid as the rock of Gibraltar.
He smiled at her. “We’re delighted that you caught Lochlaw’s eye and drew Victor to Edinburgh. The man deserves some happiness.” He glanced at Victor. “And . . . well . . . we’ve been thinking about asking you if you might like to do some work for us from time to time. Looking at chemical compositions and evaluating gems for our clients to see if they’re real.”
“They could also use some help in the office,” Lisette put in. She laid a hand on her noticeably rounded belly. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much good to them anymore. I simply have too much to do.”
The duke slid his hand about her waist and gazed down at her fondly. “My wife has decided that our nursery needs a complete overhaul, now that we’re intent on filling it.”
“Oh, do you have a baby, Your Grace?” Amalie exclaimed. “I love babies!”
“You love everything,” Lisette said fondly and ruffled her hair. “We don’t have a baby now, but we will soon, and you are welcome to come help with it whenever you wish.”
“Papa, did you hear that? I can help with the baby!”
“Yes, lambkin, I heard,” Victor said. “Everyone in the town house heard.”
They all laughed. The trial of their lives was trying to teach Amalie not to be quite so boisterous.
“So, what do you say?” Dom asked Isa. “Would you be interested in helping us from time to time? At least until you decide what to do with your jewelry business?”
“Actually, that sounds intriguing,” Isa said. “We can try it for a bit, anyway.”
A footman came in to announce that dinner was served. As everyone moved toward the door, Victor murmured something to Lisette, who took Amalie’s hand and drew her off. Then Victor halted Isa with a hand and called out to the others, “We’ll be there in a moment.”
For his pains he got lots of sly looks from his friends, who had now become her friends, too. He stoically ignored them. As soon as the others were gone, he pulled out a little box.
“Since we were too poor to afford a ring for you all those years ago, I decided to remedy that situation.” He opened the box, and she was surprised to see a ring with several gems in a line.
She caught her breath. Lapis, iris, emerald, vermeille, emerald, kyanite, emerald. Lieveke.
Tears clogged her throat. “Oh, Victor, it’s beautiful!”
“They’re real gems, too,” he said. “Mr. Gordon had a devil of a time finding a gem to use for k, but Lochlaw suggested the kyanite, and there you are.”
He slid the ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly.
“I will forever be grateful to Lochlaw,” Victor went on as he kissed her hand, “and not just for the kyanite either, but because he brought you back to me.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Yes. Although sometimes, when I’m being whimsical, I fancy that our lonely hearts grew tired of waiting for us to find each other, and simply called out in the night until they got their answer. And that’s what really brought us together.”
“I like that,” he said as he drew her into his arms. Then he kissed her so sweetly that for a moment she was eighteen again, sneaking off to be with her bold young soldier.
When he drew back, all the love in the world shone in his eyes. “Because I know for certain that my heart will always hear yours.”