“She actually swooned and made such a scene that her eldest son had to bundle her off to the carriage and take her home. If I’d known that Catherine marrying her son would upset Lady Bitterwood so badly, I’d have encouraged her to pursue him years ago.”
“Mother!” Raphe scolded.
His mother offered him a half smile.
“If you knew just how cruel she was to me before I married your father, Raphe, you would allow me these small pleasures.”
Raphe took both his mother’s hands in his and kissed her on the top of the head.
“That may be so, Mama, but really… holding on to all that anger and pain — clinging to the grudge — hurts you more than it hurts Lady Bitterwood. Try to be happy for Catherine, and let everything else go.”
The Duchess of Elkington grew misty eyed and patted her son on the cheek.
“When did you get to be so wise, darling?”
“I haven’t the foggiest, honestly.” Raphe shrugged. “I just know in my heart that you will feel so much better if you focus on all the things in this life that you’re grateful for, rather than if you focus on all the things that make you unhappy.”
The Duchess reached up and patted Raphe’s hand, nodding, too overcome by emotion to respond immediately.
“Very well, then. Come along, dears. Lady Bellingham will be truly in raptures to have not one, but two betrothals announced at her Ball.”
EPILOGUE
THISTLEWAYTE HALL, CHRISTMAS EVE 1812
The Calthorpe family insisted on hosting the double wedding for both the Duke of Elkington to Miss Eliza Wingfield, as well as Lady Catherine Stewart to Lord Edward Melthorn, because their properties were neutral ground, and thus the only way to keep Lady Bitterwood and the Duchess of Elkington from clawing each other’s eyes out. The two women still disliked each other deeply, but both of them could be prevailed upon to behave themselves in the Duchess of Thistlewayte’s home, thank heavens.
Eliza was so overwhelmed with happiness that she could hardly hear a word the Vicar said over the sound of her own pounding heart. She felt as if she was floating outside herself, somehow, watching the wedding play out as she and Raphe exchanged their vows, and then Catherine and Lord Edward did the same. As soon as the ceremony was over, they would have a small, private wedding breakfast. Later tonight, they would all attend the annual Thistlewayte Hall Yuletide Ball, and Eliza would be a married woman… Her Grace, the Duchess of Elkington.
* * *
As the weddingbreakfast was winding to a close, Lady Matilda was speaking with Eliza, His Grace, and Lord Gabriel Stewart about Grandfather’s maddening riddle, which she still had not quite worked out yet.
“Wait… say that again?” Lord Gabriel prompted, his gaze sharp and focused.
Lady Matilda repeated the riddle, which she’d long since memorized.
You’ll need to twice be clever
To claim your promised treasure.
The first is small, the second tall
And yet they belong together.
Carved, art echoes life
With all its pleasures and strife.
Once you look beside a book
You’ll find her there marked by a feather.
Scandal etched in sharp relief
To hide its gains just like a thief,
And when you lift the lady’s skirt
