Epilogue
1815, Berkshire, England
Rémy, as Serena hadnamed her dog, still ran around her legs but no longer relieved himself on her feet, which was a great improvement in his manners. In fact, he had been thoroughly house-trained in the three weeks they’d stayed with her parents while the banns were read on successive Sundays before their wedding. He was now a very good boy.
Serena had wanted to name him James, but when Malcolm found out she loved the name, he suggested she save it for their first son, and thus she chose the place where they’d first consummated their love.
Her new husband seemed entirely pleased to be a wedded man, and in the two weeks since their marriage, he showed utter contentment at being settled down and becoming aformerrake. In his own way, he’d also become house-trained, and she considered him to be a very good boy, too.
Currently, Malcolm was outside making sure everything was ready for their upcoming trip to London. He was determined to introduce her properly to Mayfair society, and to show her off at the Covent Garden Theatre and Astley’s Amphitheatre. And of course, he would stroll with her through Vauxhall, showing her off as Lady Branley, and the next Viscountess St. John.
“We’ll make sure you don’t have any twigs in your hair,” he’d said when she’d told him the tale of her previous disgrace. “On second thought, I can’t promise I won’t press you against a tree for a kiss, but no one shall say a word since we’re married.”
She laughed. They laughed a lot, which she adored. And Rémy’s antics made them laugh even harder. After their wedding day, they’d traveled from her parents’ home in Wiltshire to his parents’ country seat in Berkshire so she could spend time with her new mother and father-in-law, as well as Malcolm’s siblings, all of whom had come to the wedding. His sister who’d welcomed Serena warmly, asked a hundred questions a minute about Paris.
Finally, Serena had promised to take the girl over someday soon, causing Malcolm’s eyebrows to raise.
“When everything has calmed down,” she assured him. “It will be a joyful visit. We can go back to all the places we visited together.”
“Except the catacombs,” he teased.
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“Did I tell you the Prussians looted the Louvre before order was restored?” he asked.
She shook her head, recalling how wonderful that day had been before the soldiers took her away. “You are more magnificent than Apollo Belvedere,” she vowed, enjoying the way her husband blushed. One day, they would walk the Louvre again.
Yet today, they were off to London, considered the greatest city in the world, although Serena would always hold Paris most dear in her heart as the place they’d met and fallen in love.Poor Napoleon.She couldn’t help feeling sorry for the emperor. How he would miss his city now that he was exiled again, this time to the island of Saint Helena. She hoped they made madeleines for him.
“Are you ready?” Malcolm asked.
She had on her traveling clothes, her trunks were packed, her lady’s maid was packed but not in a trunk, and she’d hugged her new extended family goodbye. Even Rémy had just done his doggy duty upon demand after a quick walk in Lady St. John’s garden.
“I’m ready,” she said, linking her arm through his as they wandered out toward their spacious four-horse carriage. “I must confess, it’s a nice change to be traveling with you while not running from someone.”
Rémy suddenly came barking up from behind with a stick in his mouth.
“I guess he’s bringing something of his own,” Serena mused, bending down to pick him up, although he was now a good nineteen pounds or so. “What is this?” she exclaimed.
“What is it?” Malcolm asked, taking the dog from her. In truth, they actually shared Rémy like a beloved infant, taking turns holding and brushing him, and almost always fighting over whose lap he would stretch across in the evenings.
Serena tugged at the familiar piece of wood in the dog’s mouth. He resisted.
“It’s my busk,” she said in amazement. “How on earth is that possible?” She’d removed it in Saint-Malo to have room for the letter down the front of her stays. She kept tugging, but Remy refused to give it up.
Malcolm was laughing. “Reach in my pocket. Cook gave me suet biscuits she baked for him. I swear, he’s going to be the most spoiled dog in England. I’m sure he’ll trade you one for your busk.”
Her husband was correct. In a moment, Serena was staring at the straight dowel of wood her mother had once given her, now with a few tooth marks but otherwise none the worse for wear.
“But how did he get it?” She stared at Malcolm.
