Epilogue
T he snow crunched softly underfoot as the young Duke of Westcliff, Damien Langford, made his way toward the waiting carriage. The air was crisp, the scent of fresh snow lingering in the cold, and for the first time in days, the roads were clear enough to travel. He had spent the past few days snowed in at Carrington Manor, a circumstance that had initially seemed inconvenient, but now, as he prepared to depart, he found himself feeling… empty.
He paused by his carriage, glancing back at the manor, the grand estate dusted with snow. He was about to give the footman a nod to open the door when he heard voices behind him. Turning slightly, he caught sight of Alexander and Lady Genevieve, standing by the steps with her brother, Henry, and watching them closely. His keen eyes caught the way Alexander held Lady Genevieve’s hand, the way her face lit up with a smile that could only mean one thing.
Damien did not need to be close to know what was happening. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard Henry speak loud enough for him to catch, “ I suppose your first act as duke will be to plan your wedding.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Damien’s lips, though it was tinged with something he could not quite place. So, Alexander has finally done it, he thought to himself, watching as his old friend and Lady Genevieve shared a glance that spoke of years of longing, regret, and, now, hope.
Taking a deep breath, Damien straightened his coat and approached them, his footsteps slow and measured. As he reached the group, Alexander looked up, his expression shifting from joy to surprise, though still warm.
“Damien,” Alexander said, his voice steady. “I thought you had already departed.”
“I was just about to,” Damien replied with a polite smile. His gaze flickered between Alexander and Lady Genevieve, and he dipped his head slightly. “But it seems I am leaving just in time to hear the big news.”
Alexander chuckled softly, tightening his grip on Lady Genevieve’s hand. “Yes, it is official now. Genevieve and I are engaged.”
Damien nodded, a genuine smile forming on his lips. “My congratulations to you both.” His eyes softened as he glanced at Alexander. “And my condolences, again, for your father. He was a strong man, and you have inherited quite the legacy.”
Alexander gave a curt nod, a flicker of sadness crossing his face, but it quickly disappeared as he looked at Lady Genevieve once more. “Thank you, Westcliff. It means a great deal.”
Lady Genevieve smiled warmly at Damien though her attention remained fixed on Alexander, her hand resting comfortably in his. Damien could not help but admire the way they seemed to fit together so effortlessly. It was as if the years of separation had been washed away by their reunion.
“I wish you both nothing but happiness,” Damien added, giving them one last nod before stepping back toward his carriage.
As he turned away, a familiar ache settled in his chest. He had watched so many friends fall in love, watched as they found their perfect match. First Sebastian, Duke of Ashwick, with Lady Amelia Worthington, and now Alexander with Lady Genevieve. And here he was, Duke of Westcliff, still searching, still wondering if he would ever find the woman who could stand by his side.
His father had passed away years ago, leaving him with the title and the vast responsibilities that came with it. He had inherited estates, lands, wealth—everything a man could want. Everything except for someone to share it with.
As he climbed into the carriage, his thoughts swirled. He had been courted by countless eligible ladies, but none had sparked anything in him beyond polite conversation. None had made him feel the way Alexander looked at Lady Genevieve or the way Sebastian had looked at Lady Amelia on his wedding day. Damien had wealth, status, and power, but what he did not have—what he longed for—was something that could not be acquired through any of that.
“Do you think you will ever find yourself a duchess, Your Grace?” his driver asked with a playful grin as he closed the door behind him.
Damien let out a quiet chuckle, though it lacked humor. “I suppose time will tell, Jacob,” he replied, settling into the seat and glancing out the window as the carriage began to move.
The manor disappeared from view, but the image of Alexander and Lady Genevieve’s engagement lingered in his mind. He could not help but wonder if that kind of happiness was meant for him, too, or if he was destined to remain the unwed Duke, watching from the sidelines as his friends found love and built their lives.
The wheels of the carriage creaked as they rolled over the snow-covered path, the world around him quiet and still. Damien leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment as he let out a slow breath.
One day. Maybe one day.