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EPILOGUE

“ I daresay we’ve done it, haven’t we?” Fiona murmured, her voice alight with disbelief and delight.

The chandeliers glittered like captured stars, gilding Craton Manor in an energy Fiona had never known it could possess. Her hand rested lightly on Isaac’s arm as they made their way through the guests, exchanging pleasantries and receiving compliments with smiles both practiced and sincere.

Fiona could hardly believe it; they were hosting their first ball, and the night was... splendid. She hadn’t imagined such a throng of titled heads would descend upon their home with such good cheer. Yet here they were, and her heart swelled with triumph.

“Oh, I did not think I would live to see the day Craton Manor reopened to the public,” declared Lady Mayfield, her eyes filled with nostalgic wonder as she dipped into a modest curtsy before Fiona.

Her husband, Lord Mayfield, gave Isaac a hearty nod. “Not since your grandparents’ time, Your Grace. I was but a sprightly boy then, though I daresay I recall the splendor. And now, it is altogether transformed. Most magnificent.”

Fiona opened her mouth to thank them, but Isaac raced her to it. “The merit belongs to my Duchess,” he said, his eyes glancing down at her with warmth that still surprised and excited her. “She possesses a taste quite beyond compare. Whatever beauty you observe tonight is her doing.”

Heat bloomed in Fiona’s cheeks as she offered a gracious smile. Dear heavens, he always knows how to disarm me.

As they moved on to another group, Fiona overheard a matron whispering to her companion, “Oh, he is most unlike his late father. Quite the humble and attentive host.”

“We must thank Providence for this Duke of Craton,” the other agreed. “England would do well with more Dukes of such magnanimous character.”

Fiona’s heart lifted. To hear such words here, in the very halls that had once felt so haunted by Isaac’s past, was more than she had hoped for. Isaac had been so haunted by the fear of becoming his father. And now, even the most scrutinizing eyes of society saw what she always had: a good man, better than he knew.

When Isaac’s attention was claimed by an old general, Hester floated to FIona’s side. “You are smiling so excessively, I fear your cheeks might never recover,” she teased, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

“Truly,” Nancy added, fanning herself lightly. “It is almost indecent how radiant you look.”

Anna, arriving behind them with her usual languid grace, tilted her head. “I say we put it to vote. Has Fiona not smiled more in this one evening than she did all of last Season?”

Fiona laughed, unable to hide the glow that bubbled up inside her. “What can I say? I am rather fond of this particular ball.”

“Fond, she says,” Hester snorted softly. “She has married the most elusive Duke in England, turned him into society’s favorite host, and tamed a parrot while she was at it.”

“Next, she shall take Parliament by storm,” Nancy added with mock solemnity.

Fiona gave them all a playful look. “Not before I finish refurbishing the west wing. Priorities, ladies.”

Just then, Prudence approached, her demeanor bearing what Fiona hadn’t seen in years. Peace. Perhaps even joy.

“Mama,” Fiona greeted her warmly, taking her hands. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Prudence gave a soft nod, her fingers squeezing Fiona’s. “You’ve done something beautiful here, my dear. Both with this home... and with him.” She glanced at Isaac who was still conversing with the old general. Prudence now lived in a house not far from Craton Manor, and although Society had raised their brows in the beginning, the excuse that Prudence missed her mother, and Holden House was more than an hour’s carriage ride away appeared to settle them.

“I can scarcely believe it myself,” Fiona whispered, smiling. “But here we are.”

And she meant every word. They had made it, through shadows and secrets, through heartbreak and healing. And tonight, beneath the glitter of candlelight and amidst the swell of music and dancing, they stood as one.

Isaac returned to her side, and after the final guest had been greeted and the orchestra began a soft, lilting waltz, Isaac turned to her.

“May I have this dance, Duchess?”

Fiona’s heart skipped a beat. “You may, Duke.”

He led her out to the center of the ballroom, where the floor cleared as guests looked on with warm admiration. As his hand found the small of her back and their fingers intertwined.

They moved in perfect harmony, the world around them dissolving into a blur of candlelight and melody. Fiona tilted her head back to look up at Isaac, and he smiled down at her as though she were the only woman alive.

Let them all watch, she thought as they twirled. Let them see what love truly looks like.

After the final strains of music faded and the last of their guests had departed, leaving only the echo of laughter and footsteps in the great ballroom, Isaac turned to her.

“You were the perfect Duchess and hostess tonight, Your Grace,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“You did excellently too. I am so proud of you,” Fiona replied, her hands resting lightly against his chest.

A glint of mischief touched her eyes. “And I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? For me?” he echoed, one brow arching with interest. He glanced about, scanning the room with mock drama. “Well, where is it? I see no box nor ribbon.”

“It’s right here, Isaac,” she said with a soft laugh, her hand moving slowly to rest protectively atop her stomach.

His gaze followed, then widened. “Fiona?”

“Our little gift,” she said, patting her abdomen gently.

His eyes filled with wonder. “You’re with child!”

She nodded, emotion thickening in her throat. “I confirmed it with Elaine and Mrs. Burton.”

“Oh, Fiona,” he breathed, his arms sweeping her up as he spun her around, laughter and sheer joy bursting from his chest.

Fiona’s laughter echoed with his, caught in the golden spell of the moment.

Then he stilled, setting her down with exaggerated care. “Heavens, I should not be spinning you about like that now, should I? Not with our child.”

She pressed a hand to his cheek, smiling. “We’re just fine, but yes, You should not.”

He kissed her, slow and tender. “Thank you for making my life complete. I love you, Fiona.”

“I love you too, Isaac,” she whispered, before welcoming his kiss once more.

The End?