Enchanted by a Lady’s Talent – Extended Epilogue

“Your third book? My goodness, you must be a truly magnificent author,” the young lady said.

“Not magnificent. Just fortunate,” Pippa replied.

It had been six years since she and Doyle had married, and it still felt as if they were in tune with one another at all times. This latest book was no exception. 

Pippa had realised that her ribbons did not match the dress she was supposed to wear that evening for the release of the book, and she had come to purchase new ones for her hair before the event. The young woman had been astonished to learn that Pippa, a woman, was an actual, published author.

“But you must be magnificent if they were willing to give you a chance. Is it not only men who usually are allowed to be published?” the young woman asked.

“Allowed? No, but it is typically only men who receive the honour. However, we had quite a tale when we got started. My husband does all of the editing for my novels and, because of that, I have more opportunities than most,” she confessed.

Pippa invited the young woman to the event that evening and then hurriedly returned to the bookshop. 

“Oh, good heavens!” she exclaimed when she went inside and discovered everything was still chaos.

“Yes, dear. I know,” Doyle said without Pippa having to explain why she was overwhelmed and surprised.

“Madeline! Jessica! What are you two doing?” she called after their two daughters, who were just five and four years of age. The girls were gorgeous but had far too wild of personalities for Pippa to handle most of the time.

“Good thing we have enough space for them,” Doyle said.

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Can you imagine what we would have done if we were still in the old shop?” Pippa chuckled.

“There would not be nearly enough space. Especially not for an event like the one we have tonight.”

Every so often, the new, expanded shop hosted authors from around the country. They would come to London and do a reading, sometimes when they were debuting a new work or sometimes simply because they were in town. Doyle had also set up a few tables in one area so that authors could meet together to discuss their works and give one another feedback at times.

In all, the shop was no longer a simple shop, but it had grown into a community and a hub of literary excellence. Everyone knew Doyle Brooks and his wife, Pippa Brooks. The two of them were elite amongst the writers in London, with books published and a space for anyone who truly loved literature.

That night, however, the party was going to be remarkable.

“Oh, Doyle!” Pippa called when the time had come. “It is time. Shall we open the doors?”

“Yes, dear. Open them!” he called back.

Pippa did as he said, opening the doors and allowing the flood of people to come in. They rushed to the shelves and to the tables where this newest book was stacked, ready for their purchase.

Doyle had hired three employees for this larger shop. They were all quite wonderful and Pippa was relieved that he finally had trustworthy people at his side. They were eager to continue to expand, but, for now, they had just the right amount of space and just the right young men and a young woman for helping around the shop and assisting customers.

“Pippa! Oh, Pippa, this looks wonderful. And I want to go get my copy of the book. You will sign it for me, will you not?” Fiona asked.

Pippa laughed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, Fiona, why do you even ask me anymore? Not only have you already read the manuscript, but you know that I signed the last two for you.”

“Yes, and I want you to sign this one as well because it means the world to me that I have the signatures of the famed author, Pippa Brooks,” Fiona said with a fierce drama. Just then, her son and daughter came running up to her, begging for Fiona’s attention.

“You two should go and find Madeline and Jessica. I know they are around here somewhere,” Pippa told them. The two ran off and she and Fiona were on their own again.

Pippa grabbed a copy of the book and quickly signed with a note.

To the one who always encouraged me and has heard every story.

I love you dearly, Fiona. Thank you for always being my greatest friend and inspiration.

Pippa

“Oh, thank you!” Fiona exclaimed once Pippa returned the tome.

Before long, James and Clarissa also arrived, and Pippa was eager to see them as well. Clarissa came to join Pippa and Fiona, allowing her four children to run after the others.

“My goodness, it is a marvelous thing to not have to worry about all the children, is it not?” Clarissa asked.

“Indeed, it is. Knowing they have the area for children over there and that there are so many eyes on them is quite fantastic,” Fiona said.

“Well, I just hope they are quiet during the reading. Honestly, we struggled so much with the previous book, when the girls were three and two years of age, that we decided to have this be a party as opposed to the gathering we did for our first two book launches,” Pippa explained.

“You mean because this way it is supposed to be noisy?” Fiona asked.

“Precisely. It is far better this way,” Pippa nodded.

“Yes, I suppose so. But I am still looking forward to the reading. I cannot wait to hear more about this book,” Clarissa said.

After a short while, Pippa’s mother and father also arrived, there to support her amid her latest book being published. So much had shifted between them and Pippa in the previous few years, and she did not think she could have it any better.

By the time the reading began, Pippa was more than ready to ensure that everybody was able to hear the first chapter of her newest novel. She was anxious, nervous that it would not live up to the previous two, but she was still eager to get started.

“Good evening, everyone,” she greeted from the front of the room. “Thank you all for coming to this party as we release my new book, Winthrop Manor. I do hope that you all find it as thrilling and delightful as the previous two works which I have published, although this one is rather dark and eerie at times, I must warn you.”

She made a playful gesture with her eyebrows, teasing the crowd. There were whispers and giggles of delight, everyone waiting and ready for this moment when they would hear the first chapter of the novel.

“The chill in the air gave birth to a puff of breath. The young maiden had not stopped walking, despite the aching numbness in her toes and fingers.

“But she could not stop,” Pippa read, pausing then and glancing up to be sure that she was maintaining the attention of the audience. Indeed, they were all waiting with bated breath to hear what came next.

“The maiden had a destination to reach. Even as the snow crunched beneath the thin soles of her shoes and the deep bruise of a sky obscured the lengths of her vision, she knew that she could not stop. Not until she arrived in the place she wanted to be more than anywhere.”

There was a great deal of excitement in the air, but suddenly, Pippa a heard the sound of frustrated whispers and saw a bit of pushing towards the back. She could not fathom who would be causing such commotion at an event like this, and she tried to search with her eyes until she finally spotted him.

George Sinclair! She had not seen the man in six and a half years, not since he had been arrested for having damaged the bookshop.

“What is going on back there?” Doyle asked, rushing towards the back. It did not appear to Pippa as if he had realised that it was George causing the problems.

“Doyle! Stop!” she called.

But it was too late, and George was lunging forward, trying to come after Doyle.

“I told you this was not over! You deserve none of this! You are the reason I was locked away! You cannot have this!” George called, trying to leap over some of the audience members so that he could get Doyle.

The others who were present were clearly not going to allow that to happen and Pippa was amazed at the ways in which they tried to block George from having his revenge. At last, one of the guests stood up. Pippa knew well that he was one of the local constables. He was there to enjoy the reading, but he was also there in order to prevent disturbances.

No disturbance had ever occurred at the shop. Not until now, anyway. He grasped hold of George’s wrists and bound him before another word could be said, a few other men stopping him from breaking free and trying to attack the constable.

“No! Let me go! This is not over!” George screamed again.

Pippa was amazed at the bedraggled appearance of George. For a man who had always prided himself on how attractive others deemed him to be, he looked quite awful. His hair was stringy, hanging in front of his face. He was thin and reedy, nothing like he had been before when he was built of muscle and bone.

She had never particularly cared for him or found him all that attractive, but Pippa could see that he had at least been healthy before. Now, however, it appeared he had allowed life to get the best of him.

Pippa and Doyle looked at one another from across the room as the constable dragged George out of the shop. It was a shock to see him after all these years and to know that he had managed to sneak into the bookstore. But even if he had made plans to ruin the evening, he had only ruined it for himself.

Doyle was still smiling with pride that Pippa had released another book and Pippa was still delighted that Doyle’s new shop was doing so well. In all, they were extremely happy and there was nothing at all to be upset about.

They had been through much, but they had fought through it and were now seeing the fruit of their efforts. Pippa’s first novel had been an instant success and had even gotten her many offers from publishers who agreed to use her name even if it meant that there would be men who would not take them seriously and pay for such works as this written by women.

But there were so many who supported Pippa, and she was still happy to know that she could call on those people at any time. They were always there for her, even when she was not ready to ask for their help.

With George gone from the shop, Pippa finished her reading, the chapter leaving the audience cold and haunted. From there, she grinned and gave them all a nod.

“Well, I suppose you are all going to have nightmares now, but I am extremely excited to know what you all think of the book. I promise that it is not simply a ghost story. There is so much more to it than that and I do believe you are going to find more than you had ever imagined once you really dive in.”

She had learned how to market her works and was no longer afraid to suggest that people might actually appreciate it. She was starting to realise that the only way to truly promote the work was to promote herself.

At last, however, the reading was over, and the party continued with Pippa and many others talking and celebrating, enjoying the festivities. The children continued to play in their area and there was all manner of liveliness and joy throughout the evening.

“Lord Franklin, thank you for attending,” she greeted. “And you, Mr. Husson.”

Pippa made her rounds and finally ended up beside Doyle all over again.

“My goodness,” she said.

“What is it?” Doyle asked.

“It is the most wonderful and exhausting thing in all the world, having a book release like this. I love it and hate it all in one go.”

“Oh, I do not blame you for that. It takes forever for the shop to be made ready, as you know. And then, once the shop is ready, I have about a thousand more tasks to complete,” he said.

“Yes, I know. But you do it all so well. You are the most remarkable husband.”

“Thank you, my dear. You do me such a compliment. Anyway, it appears that people are finally beginning to dwindle.”

“Indeed, they are. I do hope that they get out soon so that we may have our peace back and we can retire home,” she laughed.

It was another two hours before they arrived home with two little girls asleep against them.

“You carry Madeline. I shall carry Jessica,” Pippa said in a quiet voice. Doyle agreed and they each scooped up a girl in their arms and carried her inside and up the stairs to their room. Jessica stirred, but she soon settled. Madeline had been running around the entire day and barely even noticed that she had moved from the coach to her bed.

Pippa was delighted to watch them resting for a while. She stood there, with Doyle at her side, and admired the daughters they had brought into this world. It was incredible to think that they had really done this; that they had two children they could love so dearly and give such life to.

There had been days in the past when they had so much and days when they had so little. Now, they had exactly what they wanted and needed right when it was important to have it. Nothing was so important as their daughters and one another.

Doyle was Pippa’s greatest joy, and she was his. They loved being with one another, no matter how long they had been married and no matter what life threw in their path.

The two of them retired to the parlour where they lay together on the settee. There was barely enough space, but the snuggled in close with a book and Pippa read it to her husband. They often ended days this way, huddled together and reading whatever they were in the mood for. It was a favourite tradition of theirs, one that Pippa did not think she could easily give up.

“What do you think we ought to write next?” Doyle asked, interrupting her.

“Hmm? Oh, I was wondering that earlier,” Pippa said.

“I have an idea,” he remarked.

“What is it? What should we do?”

“I thought we could write an epic, romantic tale. All of your books have elements of a wonderful love story in them, but what if we made that the primary focus for once?” he asked.

“A romance? You hate novels about romance. You say that they are not for men like you and that no one would publish them because there are too many out there and they are all drivel,” she said, quoting him quite accurately.

Doyle shrugged.

“I have said that, yes, but I was not talking about this particular love story.”

“Oh? And what is so different about this story?” Pippa asked.

“This one is true,” he said.

“True? A true love story? Whose?” she questioned, even though she already imagined she knew exactly what he was going to say.

“I think it would be wonderful to write about our own love story and the life we have led together,” he laughed.

“Perhaps you are correct, but we will both look very bad at times,” Pippa said.

“That is what makes it real. I was arrogant and obnoxious. You were pushy and bossy. But we are real, flesh and blood. There is nothing wrong with showing our flaws as a means of showing that we also knew how to do some things right. Do you not agree? Would it be shameful, somehow, to show them who we really are?” Doyle asked.

“Perhaps you are right. We do have quite a wonderful love story. I suppose those who already know it do enjoy hearing it and we could easily share it with many others. I know that love stories are one of the best-selling types of book we have in the store. Maybe there really is something to this.”

“But you would have to remember the autobiographical aspect. What do you think? Creative non-fiction?”

“I love the idea, Doyle. You and me? We are an excellent story. So, we must do it. Our next work shall be our own story,” she said with great determination, wishing she had come up with the idea far sooner and not let Doyle get the jump on her.

“Thank you, my love. I cannot wait to read our story as written in your words. I shall edit it to perfection,” he promised.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Pippa said.

She leaned her face towards Doyle’s and they snuggled in closer together. His arms were warm around her and she set down the book they had been reading. Then, Doyle smiled, and their noses were touching until he shifted his face ever so slightly against hers in order to give Pippa a kiss to close any take of romance, love, and great affection.

THE END

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