Page 25 of Once Upon a Winter's Tale
“What a beautiful ring, Brianna,” her mother said.
Brianna still could not grapple with this having happened. It was almost as if she was watching someone who looked like her becoming part of a fairytale.
“My dearest daughter, Brianna, I am so happy for you,” her mother said through glistening eyes. She rose and raised her glass. “Allow me to toast my daughter and my son-in-law to be. I hope your life together is as magical as your romance, with love and all the riches it brings.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Thank you, Mama. I feel like a lost princess that just met her prince,” Brianna said, swiping at a couple of tears. Her comment was met with astonishment around the table. A lump formed in her throat, and she looked from Albert to her mother.
He placed his hand over hers. “There is much we have learned tonight that you could not possibly know, my darling. It has nothing so much to do with you, as with who you are.”
The duchess leaned forward slightly and looked at her sons and Alaina before speaking. Alaina nodded. “You are Lady Brianna Phillips, and your mother is Countess Alaina Wharton. Your father took ill when you were born, and it became necessary to take you away for your safety—and my husband insisted that this become your home, and took every step to make that happen,” the duchess said. “The details are not important at this moment. And until I arrived this evening, your mother and I had not shared your identities with my son. So, what you said gave us all quite a start.”
“I never thought to see anyone tempt my brother Albert to the altar unless it was through the heart,” Roger said. “The hardest part of his role as duke has been fending off the matching mamas and their young, eligible daughters. Wait until London hears my brother was snared by a winter beauty hidden in Devon; all the young bucks will be here looking for their goddess!” he added, grinning broadly and gaining laughter from everyone.
“Thank you, all,” Brianna began. “I know how much you love me and have only felt love here. If they brought here me, it was for reasons I would never question.” She reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “I have enjoyed a happy life, and while I may have suspected something more, I knew not what to ask. But now, I cannot imagine myself any happier than becoming Albert’s wife.”
Epilogue
Sidmouth, Devon
Christmastide, 1817
Freshly fallen snowcovered the small uncut-stone-covered parish chapel on Church Street. The building was framed by low-hanging branches from oak trees hundreds of years old. The town was perfectly decked out in its best winter white. Carriages and wagons of all sizes lined the street, a testament to the village’s excitement at seeing the new Duke of Kendall wed the parish’s favorite young woman, Lady Brianna Phillips. As Brianna Thomas, she had selflessly attended to countless sick puppies and kittens, assisted horses with injuries, and helped locals with delivering calves and lambs. The locals were quick to call for Miss Brianna.
Inside, the church was beautiful, decked out in greenery, mistletoe, and holly bound with large white bows at the ends of the pews. The fresh smell of evergreens filled the room.
Soothing music on the pianoforte gradually faded, and the giant bull mastiff gave a low, throaty bark from the doorway, causing all guests to shift in their seats and turn. Nero wore an elaborately tied cravat, adorned with a single amethyst pin in the center. His unorthodox announcement of the bride startled Vicar Selman, who dropped hisBook of Common Prayer, knocking his glasses from his face as it fell. The pastor immediately dropped to all fours and began searching for his spectacles.
The drowsy, well-fed matron in the last row fell forward, hitting her head, and screamed.
The heavy oak door opened, and Lady Brianna Phillips stepped forward carrying a bouquet of white and lavender Lenten roses and wearing a pale green chiffon and lace empire gown. A matching attached cape, accentuated with pearl beading, trailed as she focused on the tall, blond man standing in front of the altar, flanked by his two dark-headed, handsome brothers. The three men were elaborately dressed in black, with cravats that matched Nero’s.
“Nero, heel,” she commanded quietly. The dog stood and escorted her to the altar. When she stood next to her betrothed, the dog quietly sat down on its haunches and waited.
“Found them!” the vicar shouted, scrambling to get up and stepping on the front of his white robes, causing him to tip forward.
“Don’t worry, vicar. I have you,” the Duke of Kendall said, helping him regain his posture behind the altar.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Now, where was I?” the vicar said, thumbing frantically through the book.
“The beginning,” whispered Roger, one of the groomsmen.
“Yes, yes. Here we are…” the vicar began, then took the couple through their vows. Finally, he was announcing them as newly married. “I present the Duke and Duchess of Kendall,” he said, carefully sidestepping the altar and the dog.
The large dog fell in behind his mistress and new master as the couple walked down the aisle to the carriage waiting in the front.
“We will see you at the manor house,” the newlywed duchess told the dog, causing it to whimper.
“Don’t worry about him. He can ride with us,” her new brother-in-law, Lord Henry Egerton, said, standing with his wife, Lady Egerton. “My wife is already in love with him.”
“Nero has welcomed us to the family with ceremonial kisses,” Roger added, lightly patting the dog’s massive head.
“Arrrooff!” Nero protested, watching a carriage with his mistress and her new husband pull away from the side of the street.
“Thank you for agreeing to have Nero as part of our ceremony. I believe he was very well mannered,” Brianna said in the carriage.
“He added a certain level of excitement to our ceremony that only rivals the moment we met,” her husband said, pulling her close.
