A Duke’s Garden of Love – Extended Epilogue

“Mother, I am so nervous, I can hardly stand it. What if nobody likes me? What if they all believe I look foolish?” Dahlia asked, looking at Rosamund with her big, brown eyes. She was the perfect amalgamation of Rosamund and Albion. She had Rosamund’s bone structure and freckles with Albion’s colouring and everyone found her to be exquisite.

She certainly had nothing to fear as she began to present herself in society.

“Dahlia, you must remain calm. There is nothing to worry about. I expect that you are going to have a great many admirers, but that is not the most important thing this evening. It is your first ball. You cannot put so much pressure on yourself to find a husband. You are but sixteen years of age,” Rosamund said.

“I know, but I should at least like to marry before I turn twenty, Mother,” she said, worried. Rosamund shook her head, thinking it was a very sad thing, indeed, that young women felt so much pressure to marry this young.

“My dear, you know that I married after twenty and I worked for years before that. There is no shame in being married later than your years,” Rosamund said.

“But Millicent Watters said that every season in which a young woman does not marry, her chances of marriage decrease significantly. If I do not find a husband this season, I am only half as likely to find one next year,” she refuted.

Rosamund raised an eyebrow and then rolled her eyes.

“Millicent Watters is jealous and wants you to be anxious. You know what she is like. You do not even care for her and yet you have allowed her to make you nervous?” Rosamund asked.

“How can I not?” Dahlia asked in reply.

“My dear, you must be calm. I should truly hate to think of you being so worried all the time. Millicent is simply looking out for herself. Now, let us look past this and enjoy the evening. It is time to go. Don your gloves,” Rosamund instructed.

Dahlia did as she was told, but she was pouting. Rosamund knew that pout. It was the expression Dahlia gave when she felt that her concerns were not being listened to.

They went down the stairs and heard the sound of laughter. Lilly and Iris were running around their father, giggling and playing.

“Good heavens, what is this?” Rosamund asked.

“It would appear that we have two very energetic young ladies who wish to join us,” Albion said.

Rosamund’s heart beat a little faster upon seeing him in his coattails and freshly polished shoes. He looked extremely handsome. She was also quite fond of the grey streaks that had swept through his hair, aging him in the most distinguished of ways.

But he was not too old to indulge Lilly and Iris, who were twelve and ten years of age. The two girls had a great deal of energy at all times and Rosamund wondered what it would be like once they, too, entered society.

Dahlia was demure, graceful, and often inexplicably insecure. But the younger girls were extremely extroverted and loved to be around others. They had very little self-awareness, but in a very good way. They were unashamed to be themselves.

“Are you both ready?” Albion asked Rosamund and Dahlia, pausing in his game of chasing Lilly and Iris.

“No, Father! You must remain here and play with us,” Iris insisted.

“No, I don’t want that. I want him to take us with them instead,” Lilly disagreed. “I want to go to the ball.”

“Ha! I fear not, my dear. You must go with Mrs. Thomas for now. She shall look after you both this evening. We are going to be home late but your mother, sister, and I love you both very much and we shall see you in the morning,” he said.

Rosamund made her way over to the girls and kissed them each on the forehead.

With that, they exited through the front doors. Dahlia walked ahead to the coach and Albion pulled out a small rose and tucked it into Rosamund’s hair. Without a word, she smiled girlishly at him and patted it to ensure that it was held securely.

They all entered the coach and were taken to the estate where the ball was set to be held. It took only a short time before they arrived and, once there, Dahlia appeared to calm somewhat.

“Are you feeling better?” Rosamund asked.

“I think so,” she replied.

“What has changed? Why are you more confident?” Rosamund asked, trying to encourage her daughter to understand the things which made her feel better.

“I suppose it is because I have already seen three gentlemen take notice of me,” Dahlia said, blushing.

Of that, Rosamund had little doubt.

“Now, you must mingle with the young ladies of your own age. I see Jessica Fanshaw and Portia Caulfield. Oh, and there is Frances Bradwell. You must enjoy your time with them,” Rosamund said, urging her to go.

Dahlia did so, appearing at ease with the females and leery about the men who were eyeing her with clear interest.

“What do you think?” Albion asked.

“She is petrified. Have we not done enough to prepare her for speaking with gentlemen?” Rosamund asked, nervous that she had failed in her duties as a mother.

“We have done plenty. She will feel better before the night is out. It is her first ball and she is bound to be nervous. Remember your first ball after becoming a duchess? You were also quite anxious,” Albion reminded her.

Rosamund certainly did remember. She remembered feeling terribly ill-equipped for dealing with those women who had spent their entire lives groomed for greatness. Those women were much like Dahlia. They were raised with the same types of privileges that they had been able to give their daughters.

But Rosamund had not fit in with them at first. Over time, however, she grew to make very close friends.

Suddenly, Rosamund was caught off guard when she saw her daughter cornered by a very familiar face.

“Is that…?” she asked, grabbing Albion’s arm.

Albion’s eyes widened and before another word could be said, Rosamund and Albion rushed over to the corner where Rosamund stood, shifting uncomfortable.

“Horace Filbert? How did you get into a ball like this?” Albion asked, unashamedly.

Mr. Filbert, who had grown rounder and balder in the past seventeen years, shifted his guilty gaze from Albion to Rosamund and back.

“I belong here,” he said, as if they would actually believe him.

“There is not a chance in all the world of that,” Rosamund scoffed.

“Why do you care? I am simply having a nice conversation with a very beautiful young woman,” he said, looking at Dahlia again, who turned to Rosamund with eyes pleading for rescue.

“Are you telling her about all the riches you used to have until you were caught and imprisoned for cheating your tenants and lying to the government about it?” Albion asked.

“Oh, come now. I’m not so bad as that,” Mr. Filbert insisted before he released an awful, hacking cough.

“You are far worse,” Rosamund said, sliding in front of Dahlia so her daughter was protected.

“Whatever you wish to believe, believe it. Now, leave me be so that I may continue my conversation with this young woman. We are getting along quite well, I believe,” he said.

“Do you know her age?” Albion asked.

Mr. Filbert squinted, as if he truly could not tell. Rosamund thought that perhaps he was losing his vision.

“I cannot say. Twenty? Twenty-two?” he asked, trying to make a guess.

Rosamund ignored Dahlia’s obvious offense.

“Really, Mr. Filbert? You believe that?” Rosamund asked, knowing that her daughter did not look older than her years.

Mr. Filbert waved a hand as if to tell them to pay him no mind.

“I cannot see in my left eye hardly at all anymore and my right is not the best either,” he said, trying to be casual about it.

“She is sixteen, Mr. Filbert,” Albion warned him.

“You are probably lying, just saying that to scare me away,” he refuted.

“I believe we know the age of our daughter,” Rosamund interjected.

Mr. Filbert froze. He looked first at Rosamund, then to Dahlia who nodded in confirmation. At last, he looked up at Albion.

Albion narrowed his eyes at Mr. Filbert. The man cowered for a moment before he turned around and hobbled off in a hurry.

“My goodness, that man has not taken care of himself at all, has he?” Albion asked.

“Evidently not,” Rosamund replied.

“Who was he? Was that the same Mr. Filbert who tried to get you to marry him?” Dahlia asked.

“The very same,” Rosamund said.

“Oh, he is just awful,” Dahlia said with a shudder.

Rosamund and Albion empathised with her.

“Yes, my dear. He is a terrible man. But you shall have to deal with him no longer,” Albion said.

“Very well. I think I shall go to the refreshments,” Dahlia said, her eyes taking in the sight of a young man standing nearby the table.

Rosamund was watching with a keen eye and realised that Albion was doing the same.

“Do you think…?” he asked.

“I have little doubt about it,” Rosamund answered his unspoken question.

Indeed, Dahlia was at the table for only a moment before the young man began to speak to her. It was charming how he appeared just as nervous as she was.

“Who is he?” Albion asked.

“I believe he is Lord Williams, the son of the Earl of Drecken,” Rosamund answered.

“Ah, yes. I have heard good things about him but have never met him. I wonder if his father is nearby,” Albion said, looking for the Earl.

As the night progressed, Rosamund observed how much Lord Williams, the gangly young man, certainly no older than eighteen, had taken an interest in Rosamund. He was sweet and innocent, nervous and shy.

She watched as the two of them had their first dance and had to hold herself back from breaking out in a cheer when she considered that they might have a future together.

But Rosamund was distracted when Albion led her out to the floor to dance a waltz together.

“I would dance with you always. Forever. You are my sweet, graceful dance partner,” he said.

“And you are mine. I do love to be in your arms,” Rosamund said.

“I wish we could dance like this every night,” he said.

“Why not? We may dance in the balcony, overlooking the garden and the night sky. Or we may just dance in the garden as it is. We ought to make it a tradition,” Rosamund said.

“I like that. It is time in our marriage for a new tradition. You are a wise woman,” he said, making Rosamund smile.

At last the night came to a conclusion. The three were all exhausted and ready to retire, even if the night had been a good one.

Dahlia was dreamy and besotted by the time they departed and Rosamund was thrilled about it. She took her daughter’s hand in her own and gave it a squeeze of encouragement.

“Do you like him as much as I think you do?” she asked Dahlia when they returned home.

“Do I like whom?” Dahlia replied, playing coy.

Rosamund simply laughed and turned away, heading to her own room. If Dahlia was not ready to confess her feelings, that was her decision. But Rosamund was ready to observe how things might progress and she had no intention of letting her daughter get caught up in a romance unless she knew something about the young man.

The next day, Rosamund was excited when Theodore and Juliet came over with their son, Michael, and daughter, Laura. Michael and Lilly already had the sweetness of young love about them and Rosamund and Juliet often spoke of their hopes that the two would marry one day when they were older. Michael was just two years older than Lilly and they were a perfect match in personality as well.

Laura was the same age as Iris and they were the best of friends. The girls loved to play together as often as they could.

Rosamund and Juliet had often spoken about their children and how they had both dreamt of large, vibrant families, but found that they were content with how many children they had. It had surprised Rosamund when Juliet shared that she did not want more than her two. She was happy enough with the son and daughter she loved so dearly.

“More tea?” Rosamund asked Juliet as they sat in the garden. The men and children were all walking around, enjoying the beauty of it.

“Yes, thank you,” Juliet replied. “So, you attended the ball last night, yes?”

“We did. I was sad that you were unable to make it, but I am glad you were feeling better today,” Rosamund said, referring to Juliet having had a headache the night before and Theodore staying home with her.

“Oh, it is nothing. Anyway, tell me how it was. How was Dahlia’s first dance?” she asked.

Rosamund smiled broadly.

“It went very well. I think she got along very well with Lord Williams,” she said.

“Oh! How wonderful! They are such a tremendous family. I am so happy to hear that they got along well. Do you think it could really be a match?” Juliet asked.

“I think so. At least, I hope so. We shall see if he calls for her or if they get to know one another at the ball next weekend. Regardless, I was happy to see her get along so well with someone,” Rosamund said.

“Yes, well, he is an excellent young man by all accounts. I have heard that he takes very good care of his family and he is as kind a young man as they come,” Juliet said.

“I am thankful that you have heard that. I know the family has a good reputation, but I know nothing about them personally. But if you confirm it, I shall know it to be true,” Rosamund said.

“Well, you know that we are not nobles and do not live amongst the same society necessarily, but Theodore has done a great deal of work with the Earl for his accounts with the business. I know that he thinks very highly of the man and his family. He would be a better one to speak with than I,” Juliet said.

Rosamund thought about it and was determined to speak with Theodore. She wanted to know everything about the family.

“Anyway, so far as I am aware, Dahlia would do well to make a match with the likes of him,” Juliet added.

Later that evening, Rosamund discussed it further with Albion.

“What do you think? Am I getting ahead of myself?” she asked.

“No, you are not,” Albion said, his face distinctly more serious than her own.

“What is it? Why are you wearing that expression?” she asked.

His face smoothed and relaxed.

“Calm yourself, my dear. It is nothing bad. It is good, in fact. I was only meaning that you are not exaggerating the matter because Lord Williams sent around his card this afternoon. I did not wish to interrupt you in your conversation with Juliet so I have not had an opportunity to tell you until now,” he said.

“What? His card?” Rosamund asked, demanding to see it.

“Indeed, he is planning to pay a call tomorrow,” Albion said.

It was wonderful news and Rosamund was so happy about it. She could hardly wait to see if her daughter had already met her match.

“You are too excited about this,” Albion said.

“Of course I am excited. Dahlia was afraid she would not find a man who would be interested in her. It appears as though she already has. And one she likes in return,” Rosamund said.

“Yes, but…” Albion trailed off, looking unhappy.

“What is it?” she asked, worried for him.

“Our little girls, Rosie. What has happened to them? I know that even if they make a match now, Dahlia would probably not marry for another year. But it is still so young. And Lilly? We all know that she and Michael shall marry the moment she is allowed to enter society,” he said.

“Is that so bad?” Rosamund asked.

“Our daughters are growing up so fast,” he said.

Rosamund had not allowed herself to stop and think about it, but suddenly she had to face the truth.

He was right. They really were growing up quickly. Too quickly. They had been infants just days before, had they not? How did the time go by so quickly?

“Why did you have to go and talk about that?” she asked Albion, suddenly saddened.

“I know that it is a good thing. We want to see them grow and flourish. It is just that I already miss them being my little girls. I do not wish to see them rushing off. Still, I am proud of them. And I am proud of Dahlia. I hope this young man is worthy of her,” he said.

“As do I,” Rosamund said.

They sat in the garden together, watching as the sun began to set and continued talking about all of the joys of the life they had lived together. There had been difficult times, of course, but there had mostly been happiness.

Their love had been a struggling bud which had finally managed to blossom into something beautiful. It was not simply a rose in bloom, but an entire rosebush which had pushed beyond the elements which threatened to destroy it forever. And now, as they sat together and looked to the sky, the future was bright and blooming.

Albion turned to face his wife and Rosamund turned in kind. They leaned their foreheads together and then met with a kiss.

THE END

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