Page 82 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“She couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t loved her and believed in her, just as you’ve done for me. Never forget that.”

“I’m certain you’ll remind me of it for the rest of my life,” Anthony teased, turning to look at her adoringly.

“For as long as that shall be, and then another hundred years or so,” Frances answered, taking his hand and holding it tightly.

“I will hold you to that promise, my love.”

EPILOGUE

Three months later…

The carriage jostled and swayed perilously as it moved along the uneven ground. Frances awoke with a start and sat up suddenly, looking out the window at the empty landscape beyond.

“It’s all right, my love,” Anthony said, pulling her back to where she’d been resting against his chest. “We’re drawing near to Preston, that’s all. The roads haven’t been well maintained as there’s been few people traveling over them in some time.”

“Of course,” she replied, relaxing enough to lean against him once more.

“Mr. Bailey has written me that he’s already put an idea in place to improve them, though. I think it’s rather brilliant in its simplicity.”

“He’s done so much already, according to his letters. But how does he intend to build roads by hand?” she asked, still drowsy from the long trip.

“You’ll see. The first step will be taking place during our visit.”

Frances smiled. The idea for the visit had been Anthony’s, which was surprising due to his reluctance to leave London. She knew that Abigail had had much to do with it.

“You must go,” Abigail had insisted at dinner recently. “You haven’t seen your estate in such a long time. I wouldn’t be surprised if the house had been carried off by bandits stone by stone!”

“I’m fairly certain Mr. Bailey would have mentioned that in his letters,” Anthony had countered.

Their argument over the excursion—Abigail insisting she would be fine in London with the staff, Anthony refusing to abandon her just as she was starting to grow comfortable with residing downstairs—had been amusing to Frances. Both had been so certain of the validity of their stance, and both had been equally unwilling to budge.

“We shall let Frances decide,” Abigail had finally said firmly. She’d turned her wide eyes to Frances and looked at her with a haunted, heartbreaking expression.

When Anthony had noticed, he’d mimicked Abigail’s expression in hopes of garnering sympathy. Frances had only been able to laugh at both of them.

“I’m hardly a neutral party, you know. I am Anthony’s wife and the love of his life, and therefore I should side with him.” When Anthony had clapped in victory, she’d added, “Of course, I do tend to like Abigail more than you most days.”

Anthony had pretended to be wounded while Abigail had laughed so hard that she’d had to stop for some water. She’d managed a weak smile as she recovered, clearly pleased at besting her brother’s logic.

In the end, Abigail and common sense had won out. It was important to see the results of Thomas and Juliet’s labors, especially as the couple was still young and inexperienced. Frances and Anthony planned out their holiday for the end of the Season and departed on a fair day.

“Does any of this look familiar?” Frances asked, awake now and looking out at the view.

“Not really. It’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time myself.”

“Then I’m particularly glad that I get to see it with you,” she answered fondly, leaning over to kiss Anthony.

When the house eventually came into view, both Frances and Anthony were awestruck. Its magnificence had not been erodedin all these years, and the sunlight streaming through the clouds gave it an almost divine glow. Lush green hills rose up on three sides, leaving it nestled in a vibrant hollow. A veritable herd of deer grazed off to one side, while birds descended from overhead to rest in the grass. Small creatures leapt out of the way of the carriage as they approached, delighting Frances to no end.

“It looks like something from a child’s storybook,” she breathed in wonder. “I think I would never want to leave!”

“We haven’t seen the inside yet. This may be all that’s still standing,” Anthony cautioned, though she could sense his excitement matched hers.

They walked hand in hand up the majestic stone steps that led to the front door. They were instantly accosted by the sounds of work being done and progress being made. Even in spite of the craftsmen who moved throughout the structure with their various implements and materials, the house was breathtaking.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful. I could never have imagined it,” Frances gasped as she turned in a slow circle, admiring the high ceilings and frescoes over the main entryway.

“And I can hardly remember it,” he answered, clearly as awestruck as she was.

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