Cora (Virtue & Vice #4)

Epilogue

In the weeks that followed, Cora found herself in high demand among Society’s brightest stars. Her gambit had paid off in unexpected ways. Everyone loved a joke, and she had made a grand one. She had also removed the sting from the one event in her past that people could point to as a flaw.

For years, she had allowed that disaster to haunt her. Now, she was free of it forever.

The woman who had once been an outsider was now the darling of the ton .

Across the room, Gideon raised a champagne flute in salute. She was only taking lemonade. The mere scent of champagne made her queasy. There would be no autumn Season for Cora, but it didn’t matter. Her hand fell to her slightly rounded stomach. By the time her pregnancy was advanced enough to be visible beneath a cleverly-cut gown, the spring Season would be over and she would retreat to the countryside.

Going forward, she planned to return to London for only a few months out of the year to enjoy the theatre, opera, arts, and attend parties where she could actually talk to Honey and Isabelle without anyone caring about status. She fully intended to spend most of her time at the new country estate where she and Gideon planned raise their children.

The only thing she was going to miss were her frequent visits with Honey. They had reconciled, and Cora had dutifully fed the rumor to her friend about Bella being safe, though she felt terrible about using Honey’s penchant for gossip.

She couldn’t help noticing that her friend’s vibrant personality and usually incessant chatter were subdued of late. There was no avoiding the fact that Miss Caldwell wasn’t looking as much forward to these changes as Cora was.

She seemed a bit lost.

Determined to do something to rectify the situation—she couldn’t help but meddle while she could still do something to help—Cora caught her friend’s arm.

“How are you getting on with Miss Kingston?”

Honey shrugged listlessly. “She talks to me. Mostly about mathematics, or arcane subjects like land management. Despite her penchant for dull conversation, Miss Kingston sparkles enough to attract every eligible bachelor.” Her expression darkened. “She has so many suitors she can hardly choose. Prince Leopold is said to be considering an offer.”

“You don’t want that man,” she said instantly.

“Why wouldn’t I want a prince?” Honey asked indignantly. She deployed her fan, the breeze playing with a strand of her hair. “Not that I’d ever attract a man like him.”

Her friend was jealous, Cora realized with a jolt of surprise. Honey had never had an envious bone in her body, but as she eyed the cluster of men caging Isabelle’s slight form, with a hunted look on her lovely features, there was an unmistakable sour twist to Honey’s lips.

Poor Honora. Eight Seasons in, she was all but invisible to the men of the ton . At this point, she was in danger of finding herself relegated to the hinterlands to live out her spinsterhood. Some women would welcome being left to their own devices, but Honey thrived on social interaction. It couldn’t be easy to watch a debutante of scandalous origins arrive on the scene and effortlessly capture so much attention.

“Honey.”

Her friend’s gaze cut to Cora’s.

“You are a treasure. You talk, but you’re the best listener I have ever met, too.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “One day, you are going to meet a man who sees you for the gem you are, and he will adore the ground you walk on.”

Honey gave a sad little sigh. “I wish I believed that, Cor.”

“Isabelle cannot marry them all,” Cora whispered with a wink. Honey laughed genuinely, not at all the false one she so often used in public.

“Why shouldn’t we all have five or six husbands at once?” Honey murmured.

“Alas, we are stuck having to take them one at a time.” Cora feigned sorrow.

“Might I inquire what you two are whispering about?” Lysander asked. He was trailed by two men. Cora recognized one, Lord Silas Huntley. The other man was a stranger to her, though he looked vaguely familiar.

Honey’s mouth snapped closed loudly enough for Cora to hear her teeth click. Her cheeks turned red like two summer roses blossoming. She gaped at the unknown man.

Then, in a breathtakingly rude and wholly uncharacteristic move, she turned on her heel and stalked away.

Cora eyed the newcomer, who watched Honey go with astonishment.

“Lord Pindell, my wife, Cora Wentworth,” Gideon said by way of introduction. Ah, that explained the familiarity of the newcomer.

“I was once acquainted with your parents,” she said. Pindell would have likely been away at school during her disgrace, and he’d likely spent time abroad in the interim. “She isn’t always this rude,” Cora explained. “Honey is a little put out.”

“Not with you, I trust?”

“Not with me, no. Nor you.”

Gideon captured her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

“Newlyweds,” Pindell groaned.

“Not that new anymore,” Gideon said. Cora gave him a secret smile, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Soft warmth melted those brown depths. Her stomach flipped.

“I hope we still feel like newlyweds a decade from now,” she murmured.

“Five decades from now,” Gideon countered. Scandalously, he slipped his arms around her waist and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “You will still be my beautiful bride in fifty years.”

“Shall I leave you alone?” Huntley said, then prodded Pindell in the ribs. “Come on. Let’s go and chase down a wife for you. Miss Kingston won’t wait long.”

“Max already took my choice. Hardly sporting of him to marry your ward simply because I liked her,” Pindell grumbled as the men sauntered in Miss Kingston’s direction. “Not at all fair. He had years to do anything other than scowl at Emma. Didn’t court her properly at all.”

“Oh dear, we chased them off.” Cora leaned into the solid wall of her husband’s body.

“Good. Now I have you all to myself.”

He dropped a kiss along her jaw, a scandalous display of affection in public. Cora chuckled and eased out of his grasp. “I had better go and find out what happened to Isabelle. The poor girl is as nervous as a rabbit being chased by a pack of hounds.”

Gideon released her with reluctance, his movements promising a continuation of the kiss he’d given her once they were home later that evening.

Cora searched the ballroom, but Isabelle’s bright hair was nowhere to be found. She did spy Lysander’s unruly mane, akin to a lion’s, clustered with Max and Lord Pindell, and a few other men. One separated himself from their group and sauntered out onto the balcony.

The French doors closed behind him.

Odd.

Frowning, Cora went to it and nudged the heavy curtain aside to find the handle. She pushed the double doors open with a solid shove.

“Shit,” a man swore behind her. Cora blinked. Heat at her back as the men crowded around her to peer at the scene.

Lord Silas Huntley was kissing Isabelle Kingston. The sight was more comical than shocking, though surprise jolted her at the unexpected sight of him bent forward, his face captured between her palms, with a startled expression. Eyes wide open.

He made a sound and pulled away violently enough to make Isabelle stagger. Uncertainty and triumph shone in her bright blue eyes.

“This is not what it looks like,” stammered Huntley. “I barely know her. I had just come outside—I didn’t know she was here.”

“What is happening?” Esther, Isabelle’s mother, pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Her eyes widened. “What did you do to my daughter?”

“Nothing,” Silas declared. “I didn’t know she was going to fling herself at me.”

“Nonsense. Isabelle is the brightest star of the Season. She has no reason to throw herself at a man when she can have her choice of husbands!”

Isabelle flinched. She wrung her hands and refused to meet her mother’s eye.

Cora blew out a breath. “Some sponsor I turned out to be,” she said wryly to her brother.

“Silas is a cunning man. Knows what he wants and goes after it. Guess he wanted to get himself leg-shackled.”

The man in question blanched. He glared at Isabelle and shoved his way out, the crowd parting before him.

Isabelle watched him go with such pained longing in her eyes that not a soul could have missed it.

* * *

Coming in Spring 2025:

Isabelle: A Victorian Marriage of Convenience Romance

It is not true that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Lord Silas Huntley was perfectly content with his bachelor lifestyle, until Miss Isabelle Kingston ruined it.

Why would the diamond of the Season, a lady who had her pick of London's eligible men, entrap him with a stolen kiss at a ball? And the bigger question is, what will he do with her now that they’re married?

This spicy, slow burn Victorian romance is full of pining and it can be read as a standalone story, while advancing the arc between Bella and Hawke, the stars of the Virtue & Vice series.