A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (34 page)

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Epilogue

Pendleton Abby

June, 1826

The vast assembly of wedding guests wandered the grounds of the ancient ancestral home of the Pendleton Dynasty. Champagne flowed recklessly and laughter abounded among the adults, while children ran in every direction, their fine garments sporting stains and wrinkles accumulated in their efforts to enjoy the day.

The bride was glowing, her sapphire eyes sparkling at her groom, as the poor fellow tried to remember the names of all those presented to the couple. His mind, however, was not on the guests and she knew he would never retain all the information coming at him.

He leaned toward her and whispered, "The duke of this, the duchess of that. I say, Allie, how's a fellow to keep it all straight? What if I call that woman in dark blue by the wrong name? I've forgotten her title already."

"So have I dearest." She squeezed the hand that held hers, and looked at him mistily. "There are vast numbers of persons here I have never seen before, but my parents insisted on this menagerie, as you well know."

The couple had waited patiently for four long years for this day, and her mother had had ample time to prepare for the nuptials. The result was truly grand, but daunting, with over four-hundred guests at the reception.

Next to Allie, on her left, her parents received their guests with great joy, presenting their newly acquired son-in-law with obvious pride. Her father was heard to remark over and over, as he passed the guests down the line, "He's a professor, don'tcha know? Nothing like having a great brain in the family."

On Griffin's left stood his own parents, who were enthusiastic in the extreme regarding the new daughter-in-law.

"She's a topper, to be sure and quite beautiful, I must say," his father repeated many times, while Mrs. George stood nodding and smiling her agreement.

Next to the Georges stood Rothburn and his Countess, who was increasing again, though even her husband was not aware of it as yet. Somewhere on the lawns three year old Quinton, the honorable heir to the Rothburn title, ran wild with his cousins and sundry other small guests. His baby sister, Lady Clarice, slept peacefully in the nursery wing next to her newest cousin, Lady Cynthia Pendleton.

The Earl of Strothton—formerly Sir Gordon Pendleton—stood with his wife, Lady Eleanor—still pale from childbed. Price Pendleton, honorable heir to the Strothton Earldom, also ran with the infant set, his strong personality already shaping as he ordered the others about.

At aged three he was a dominant force and even the redoubtable Quinton was no match for him when it came to leadership. Price, with his military stance and forbidding manner, was the image of his sire. Quinton, on the other hand, was a loveable little clown, who had a strong penchant for theatrics, inherent in the Rothburn genes.

The Pendleton nanny had her hands full with that bunch, for certain.

Later that evening, after all the guests had either departed or gone off to their rooms, the Earl of Rothburn, his old friend, Lord Strothton and their wives, along with the parents of the bride and groom, and several cousins, sat in the small salon.

Their finery crushed by the day's events, their spirits lifted by the champagne consumed, they were a merry group, though tired and spent from the revelry.

Lady Alana was heard to say, on more than one occasion that evening, "Thank goodness this is over, I thought I'd never keep the girl chaste for four years. It has been hell."

Rothburn had taken umbrage that any male of his family—namely Griffin—might despoil the girl. He argued hotly that only his intervention in guiding the boy had kept all things aboveboard.

The bride's brother—taking umbrage as well, that his sweet little sister might be less than virtuous—argued as well. The three of them kept the other guests in hysterics with their squabbling—though it was mostly Rothburn and his wife who squabbled, as was their constant habit. Rothburn loved the attention and Lady Alana loved him. So be it.

* * * * *

Allie and Griffin at long last had gone off to their suite, given their leave by the family, who had taken pity on the besotted pair. Amid slightly ribald suggestions by the gentlemen, Griffin hurried his bride away, glaring hotly at his cousin and brother-in-law.

They were alone at last after a four year courtship that had played havoc with their peace of mind. Allie had taken a deal of time recovering from the brain injury and they had decided to wait and let her have time to gain her strength before they wed.

One year's delay had turned into two when Griffin had been given a chance to study abroad. The third year had been one of adjustment for them both when he returned, having suffered a lengthy illness of his own, and in the fourth year the pair had decided it was past time to be wed.

The moon was full and the stars out in a sparkling display, and there could be no more perfect setting for a romantic encounter between newlyweds. The couple stood on the balcony of their suite, drinking in the night smells of honeysuckle and jasmine.

Arms about her waist, Griffin stood behind the woman who had haunted his dreams and plagued his sleep for over four years, his chin resting atop her shinning hair. Allie leaned back against his broad, muscled chest, feeling the warmth and protection his arms provided, contented here in this place.

"You complete me, you know." He moved his mouth to whisper close to her ear. "I have been only half a person all my life, until I met you." His lips nibbled at the delicate lobe of her ear and he felt her shiver in response to his touch. "I will try to make you happy, my curious and wonderful girl."

"Curious?" She turned her head slightly and tried to look up at him, but saw only his broad shoulder, him being so much taller and larger than she. "How so?"

He gave a short laugh at that question, then went back to his nibbling, enjoying the answering tremor in her body as she leaned against him. Finally, he replied on a long sigh. "If you hadn't been so damnably curious about what happens between men and women, then you wouldn't have been in the park with Rothburn and Alana that day. I wouldn't have met you, and mayhap some other fellow would be holding you thus at this moment."

"Never say so, Griffin. I was only matchmaking. There is nothing curious in that." She felt him shake with silent laughter at her words. "And leave off laughing at me. I am not a child to be humored, you know."

"Aye, you are not a child, 'tis certain." He turned her in his arms and looked down at her, his eyes full of heat. "I did not have it in mind to humor you, at any rate. What I have in mind is to teach you those things I promised so long ago in your brother's drawing room."

"What things are those?" She remembered well his promise, but wanted to hear him say it.

"The magic, My Love. The magic." With that he drew her closer and pressed open her lips with his own, beginning lesson one.

Lifting his head after a moment, he murmured against her mouth, "Still curious? Shall I go on?"

"Oh my yes, Griffin. I must confess, I am most curious."

* * * * *

In a cottage on the moors, near Stonehenge, Athol Strongbow smiled to hear them, then quickly turned his mind away from that far off balcony, for it was not his habit to listen in on very private moments.

It would have been not only unseemly, but unethical as well. He would have diminished his powers for good—had he not learned early on that some things had to be left to curiosity. He would not be surprised, however, when the first born son was called Clivedon Athol George.

The second son, of course, would be Griffin Armstrong George, The Second. But the first born would be his. When the house began to hum during the night and the urn on the fire mantle glowed and pulsed, he knew with great certainty that a child had been conceived who would inherit his special powers, and he smiled once more.

Originally penned on Saturday, June 17, 2000 at 10:20 p.m.

Goodnight, Gentle Reader

Diane Davis White July 30, 2012

Diane Davis White
w
rites historical, contemporary and fanciful stories filled with romance, and the occasional bit of whimsical fantasy. Diane creates her own book covers and book videos. She loves to hear from her readers, and can be contacted at: [email protected]