Page 13

EPILOGUE

M rs. Spencer, would you mind finishing the packing? I have something to do before we leave.

Truly rushed off a note to Genevieve Rutledge asking to pay a call upon her before noon.

Instead of a reply, the woman showed up at Truly’s address.

It made for an awkward moment, but nothing could be done for that now.

She would hope to finish her discussion with Genevieve before Arlington drove up to leave.

“Genevieve, I was hoping to come to you.”

“I thought I’d save you the trip. I’m sure we have things to say.”

“I only wished to tell you before you heard it elsewhere.”

“Don’t tell me. You think you’re in love.” The words were harshly said. Truly could see that Genevieve was worried, and the words were more pain than anger.

“Perhaps I am.”

“You wouldn’t know what love is if it bit you like an adder,” Genevieve spat. “You knew that I wanted him, and you went after him to hurt me.”

“Me?” she pointed a finger at her chest. “I have done nothing but try to help you.”

“I don’t need help. It’s you who needs me.”

That was once a painful truth, but one Truly needed to hear.

She’d told herself that she had done them a kindness by lending her prestigious name to their cause.

A cause she had ignored within herself because courtesans should never fall in love.

Her mother’s heart had been broken. Love did that, which, of course, was the lie.

But if the ton saw her as just another conquest, then she was, at least in their eyes, a courtesan as well.

A bastard daughter had few options in this industry of flesh and blood.

But she was more than that, and looking into the eyes of pure pain and envy, she started to understand it.

“You’re right, Genevieve. I did need you, but no more. I am worth more than a title, name, finance, or flesh, and so are you.”

Genevieve raised the tattler in her fist, gripping the crumpled edges in her palm and shaking them in Truly’s direction.

“This is the only truth they’ll believe, and do you know where it came from?

From the lying lips of your lover.” She crushed the paper, giving it another stab in the air, her eyes demanding, her fury searching for the response she came for, but Truly would not give it. “Did you know he kissed me last year?”

“You cannot hurt me anymore, Genevieve. This rage in you is ugly. It turns stomachs, not heads. I used to be afraid of girls like you. Mean and discontent with their frivolity. Girls who control others with fear. Gossip is the heart of popularity, which brings fear and causes those who are generally kind to be manipulated into doing their bidding. Your bidding. But you’ve forgotten one thing.

My mother was the courtesan of a duke. She was not afraid of gossip, and she taught me what love is. Truly loved is what she called me.”

With a curving sneer of her lips, Genevieve dropped the crumpled gossip rag at her feet. “You think you’re good and fair.”

“Not at all. Fairness and goodness had nothing on the deep love already blooming in my heart. It’s true, you know.

Love conquers all; it pierces through the heart of fairness and goodness, and it doesn’t care what it must lay low to win.

He was never yours.” Truly strolled forward and picked up the rubbish.

She reached for Genevieve’s hand, giving a little squeeze before letting her nemesis go.

“Believe it or not, I never wanted to hurt you. I was simply unwilling to give up my happiness for yours because we both deserve to be loved. Both of us, Genevieve.”

Truly believed that with her whole heart.

Even Genevieve, as vindictive as she was, deserved happiness.

Miss Rutledge left angry but Truly suspected the woman was beginning to understand.

There was a sadness about her, and Truly hoped there would come a day when they would both heal from the experience.

An hour later, the love of her life arrived on her doorstep, and she forgot everything else. Without a bit of shame, Arlington swung Truly up in his arms and carried her to his coach for all to see.

“I sent your note to the Times,” Arlington said when they were settled in the coach.

“You did not.”

“I absolutely did. I added that when the honorable Duke of Dalliance offered to pension off Truly Hancock, she made him a better offer. She offered him a duel at sunrise to be met at Gretna Green in a fortnight. Then I invited the leading journalist to join us so that the nuptials would be recorded for posterity.”

Truly laughed, snuggling into Arlington’s side. “I think you’re telling the truth.”

“If you had an ounce of vengeance in you, you would jilt me there.”

“My vengeance will be to love you and to make your moniker a blessing.”

“That is not vengeance.”

“When I leave you tied to our wedding bed, you may feel differently.”

“I look forward to every minute, my love.”

“As do I.”

THE END