Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club #5)

Epilogue

“I s she ready?”

Averil heard Eustace’s loud whisper at the door, followed by Violet’s reply, “Nearly.”

“Papa is getting restless,” Rufus’s son added.

“She’ll be there in just a moment.”

Averil smiled as Violet returned to her side. The girl was dressed in pale blue silk that matched her eyes, and her fair hair was interwoven with flowers. “Rosebuds for a Violet,” Averil said with a laugh.

Violet had taken some persuading that she was not Sally Jakes’s daughter, although she’d later admitted that that was because she’d been afraid to let herself believe something so wonderful in case it was snatched away from her again. But Averil and Rufus had convinced her, with the help of Anastasia’s letter, and then when the locket was finally repaired and opened, they had found a scrap of pink ribbon inside it, and Violet had taken one look at it and burst into tears.

It turned out it was from a favorite dress she’d had when she was tiny, and she remembered it all these years later. Who else but Anastasia, her true mother, would have such a me-mento inside her locket?

Violet had agreed she would help Averil with the Home, and the dower house, which was to become a place of sanctuary for the women and children they saved, but she had a mind of her own. She would not be told what to do, and Averil liked that about her. She rather thought she was similar herself.

“I think Sally changed my name,” Violet spoke now. “I was probably Rose at first, but Sally preferred Violet. She even told me so once, that it was her favorite flower.”

“I like Violet,” Averil retorted, “whoever gave you the name. Perhaps you could be Violet Rose?”

“Violet Rose Arnutt.” Violet had a faraway look in her eyes. She’d recently been reunited with her father’s family and she had told Averil that she couldn’t believe how kind they’d been. How kind everyone had been.

“I never would have stopped looking for you, you know,” Averil said softly.

Violet smiled. “I know.”

Averil stepped back, striking a pose. “How do I look? Will I do, do you think?”

Violet gave her sister’s wedding dress a final glance. The silk was beautiful, and the pearls sewn into the bodice and skirt seemed to catch the light in a warm glow that was reflected in Averil’s face. She was happy, and this was the beginning of her new life.

“You will do,” Violet assured her. “Now we’d better go down before Eustace sends Hercules up to fetch you.”

They walked together along the gallery, toward the stairs that led down into the medieval great hall. The castle was full of flowers and their scent wafted up to Averil as she paused at the top of the stairs. Below she could see the guests, some well- known faces and others she would grow to know. Beth and James were there, smiling up at her, and she felt a new flood of happiness wash over her at the sight of their own joy in each other.

Douglas McInnes was there, his gaze resting on Violet, and Gareth with several of the women from the Home who had asked to come. Her friends from Miss Debenham’s were present, too, and she knew there would be many questions thrown at her when she had a moment alone with them.

The fact that there were few members of polite society present did not bother her. She still had plans to reinstate the Southbrooks to the position they once held, before Rufus fell from grace, but there was plenty of time for that. The people she loved and valued were here today, and that was all that really mattered.

Averil began her journey down the stairs and there he was, waiting to take her hand. Her wicked earl. So handsome in his wedding attire, his dark hair brushing his shoulders and his dark eyes alight with love.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers squeezing hers. “I thought so the night I first saw you. At the opera. Do you remember?”

“Yes. I think-I think I might have loved you from that moment, Rufus. I never believed in love at first sight, but I felt as if . . .”

“As if there would never be anyone else,” he finished for her, and bent down to kiss her gently on the lips.

A cheer went up from the guests, and flushed and beaming, Averil clung to her earl’s arm as he led her into their future.