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The celebrations that followed were just as grand as the ceremony. The ballroom at Blackridge was alight with golden chandeliers, and the floor was alive with dancing. Laughterfilled the air as guests enjoyed themselves, celebrating the couple’s union in the grandest of ways. Gemma had never seen anything like it—the food, the music, the decorations—it was all breathtaking.

As the evening wore on, Gemma and Frederick found themselves a quiet corner of the room holding glasses of champagne. He smiled at her, his eyes soft and filled with love.

They had danced earlier, lost in each other’s arms, but now, in this moment of quiet, they could reflect on everything they had gone through to get to where they now were.

“I can hardly believe it,” Gemma said softly. “I never imagined I would find happiness like this. I have had so many years of pain, of feeling like I did not belong… and now, here we are, together.”

Frederick’s gaze softened, and he took her hand. “You belong here, Gemma. You always have. I know we have both had our share of battles, but this makes everything worth it.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. “And we will face whatever comes next, together. With you by my side, I know I can face anything.”

The sound of soft laughter reached their ears, and Gemma turned to see Juliet, now the Duchess of Islington, and her husband Hector approaching.

Juliet, with her bright smile and lively energy, pulled Gemma into a warm hug.

“I am so happy for you, Gemma,” Juliet said. “It is clear how much Frederick loves you. And you are such a beautiful bride.

Frederick laced his fingers with Gemma’s, then turned to Juliet. “I want to also congratulate you, Duchess. St. Catherine’s will be a much-improved place with you running it, that much is certain.”

Gemma’s eyes widened in surprise. “You are now running St. Catherine’s?”

Juliet nodded, a fierce determination in her voice. “Yes, I have taken over. I know it was not the easiest place, but I promise you, Gemma, it is going to be different. I will make sure no one else has to go through what you did.”

As Juliet spoke, Gemma noticed the Duke of Islington’s eyes gleaming with pride. How fortunate were they to have found men they loved—both of them. And from what Gemma had heard, Ciara and Penelope—two ladies with equal strife in their lives, now both duchesses—had found their happiness too.

Gemma’s heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you. That means more to me than you can imagine. I am glad to know the convent will be in good hands. In kind hands, above all.”

Frederick slipped his arm around Gemma’s waist, his presence grounding her.

Together, they turned back to the guests and watched as the festivities continued around them.

It was a moment of pure happiness, a celebration not just of their love, but of the future they were building together.

A future that would be full of joy, laughter and love.

As the evening wore on, Gemma and Frederick slipped away to a quiet garden outside, taking a moment to themselves.

The stars above were clear and bright, the air cool and soothing. They stood together, hands clasped, and hearts full.

“I am so thankful for everything we have,” Gemma said, her voice barely a whisper.

Frederick pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I am thankful for you, Gemma. For your strength, your love, and everything you have brought into my life.”

They stood there for a long while, simply enjoying the peace and quiet of the night, knowing that together, they could face anything the future held.

The End?