Epilogue

Jaipur, India, 1883

Nathan cursed as the bullock cart he was riding in drove over a stone. He gripped the edge of his seat to prevent himself from falling off. The one thing he could count on in both England as well as India – carriage (in this case, cart) rides were a dreadfully bumpy affair.

The semi-open nature of the cart meant that there was no shortage of dust and it seemed to go straight into his eyes, attacking with a ferociousness Nathan had never been accustomed to. Dash it all, he had thought the heat of Bombay or Madras in summer was unbearable but none of them held a candle to Jaipur's blazing heat.

'Why could she not have settled in a more tropical climate?' he mumbled to himself as he looked at the barren wasteland that surrounded him.

'Kya?' the driver asked in Hindi. Nathan had been concerned that the driver would not understand Hindi with Indian being so richly diverse with a vast number of cultures and languages. Luckily, most in the area spoke it although a lot of local settlements had different languages and dialects.

'Kuch nahin, he responded, dismissing the driver's harmless enquiry at his mumbling and went back to gazing at his surroundings. He had been travelling for weeks now since he had landed at the Bombay port. After nearly eight years of endless tracking and employing many a Bow Street Runner, he had finally found her, tucked away in Jaipur, doing...well, he wasn't quite sure what it was. The only report he had received was that a woman matching her description had been sighted regularly at the local market here. Had he known that the wasteland would be endless, he would have brought a damn camel. Even the bullocks tugging the cart seemed too tired to go any further under the heat of the blistering sun.

When at last, the sight of civilisation came into view, Nathan breathed a long sigh of relief. Finally, the endless journey was coming to an end.

As the cart drew closer and closer, he scanned the village ahead of him. It was small, a lot of houses stacked compactly together, roads formed by the spaces between buildings. As they passed through the gates and well into the village, he was able to discern more of his surroundings. Although the planning of the houses could have been done better, all the houses looked well-maintained – very well-maintained, in fact. The people around him also looked hale and healthy, not a single unsmiling face to be found.

Nathan was surprised. Usually, villages were a cesspool of disease and poverty. The locals here, while they didn't look rich, certainly seemed to be doing well enough.

As they neared the village centre, the cart slowed and Nathan hopped off at the sight of the detective who had been tracking her for the past few months now.

'Welcome, Your Grace,' Mr. Mathews greeted as he alighted.

Nathan tossed a coin to the driver before greeting him back. 'Thank you, Mathews. I trust you did not run into much trouble.'

Mathews shook his head and turned to walk, Nathan following closely. 'Of course not, Your Grace. The locals here are quite cooperative. They are also quite good hosts. They do not mind housing an Englishman in their midst.'

Nathan's eyebrows shot up. 'Indeed?' He perused his surroundings. Sure enough, the villagers seemed to not mind the intrusion of an Englishman into their quiet village. Most eyes roved over them as if having Englishmen in their little village was a regular occurrence. If his source was to be believed, it probably was.

Mathews led them to a two-storeyed house at the end of the village. The house was modest, speaking of a simple life. Nathan was charmed. This village might well be one of the nicest places he had visited. He could imagine her living a quaint life here.

'Where are we, Mathews?' he asked, as they stood in front of the door and Mathews knocked against the wood.

'It is customary for guests to meet the village head when they arrive, Your Grace,' he replied. 'To receive their blessing. However, you must know something. The village head here is –'

Mathews could not finish his sentence for the next second, the door had opened and a shocked gasp emanated.

Nathan's head whipped around and came to rest on the woman who now stood at the threshold. Her own expression probably mirrored his own.

'Lord Wolverhampton,' the woman said in an astonished whisper.

'Miss Addington,' he echoed. He had heard, of course, how Addington's daughter had run away but to find her here... he would not have imagined, although he probably should have. Had she not told him how close they were acquainted?

'Gabby, quit dallying,' a new voice said from behind them and all their heads whipped in unison to look at the new addition. 'Really, we must get going now or we shall be dreadfully la –' The words ended in a gasp and Nathan could not help but stare at the lovely woman in front of him.

If Nathan had thought Eleanor beautiful back when they were together, she was extraordinary now. Raven hair was tied back in a chignon the way Indian women wore it and a single gold pin held it in place. She was adorned in a simple traditional sari of white and red, her arms covered in red bangles. A single, large bindhi sat on her forehead and her eyes were rimmed with black kohl. The accompanying large nose ring and gold and diamond earrings made her look like an Indian princess regal and oh, so beautiful.

Miss Addington also wore something similar but she didn't look a dime as beautiful as Eleanor.

'Eleanor,' he breathed, still captivated by the bewitching princess - no, queen - in front of him.

'Nathan,' she remarked breathily before giving herself a shake and composing herself.

'The village head is Lady Eleanor, Your Grace,' Mathews said from beside him and Nathan's eyes cut to him who was now loosening his cravat and glancing uneasily between him and Eleanor.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. 'And you did not think to tell me that before in your letter, or at least after I had arrived here?'

'I did not know then, Your Grace!' he said hurriedly. 'I only learnt of the matter a week back.'

'It is true, Your Grace,' Eleanor cut in, her eyes twinkling and Nathan found himself drowning in them as he used to so many years back. 'We met but recently.' She then turned to Miss Addington. 'Gabby, why don't you go ahead and take Mr. Mathews as well? I don't think I will be able to join the council today. I must stay back and play hostess to our guest.'

Miss Addington looked torn between staying by her friend's side and pummelling Nathan. In the end, she chose neither and walked away with Mr. Mathews who was grumbling incoherently beneath his breath.

If Nathan did not know any better, he could have sworn he'd heard him say fickle-minded, good-for-nothing dukes.

'Are you going to stand there all day and burn to a crisp or would you care to come in?' Eleanor asked. He averted his eyes away from Mathews and gave his head a shake. He gladly accepted the invitation and stepped into the cool comfort of Eleanor's home.

The house was furnished in a simple manner, no frippery or embellishments adorning every nook and corner. The space was designed to cater to function rather than style.

'We shall talk in my study,' she said over her shoulder as she started to climb up, Nathan following. She was the Village Head; quite grand, that, especially considering she was a woman. He was quite proud of the woman she had grown into. Instead of telling her this however, he started with a simple question.

'How is Miss Addington here?'

'Oh, I'm sure you heard that she had run away after the incident with Gresham,' she said flippantly. 'She had been cooped up at her house for months to weather the scandal when I wrote to her and attached tickets to come here. She has not looked back since.'

Yes, he had heard she had run away. But to India! No one knew where she had gone. It was the scandal in London for months only just below his own with Eleanor.

Satisfied, he dove right into the question that burned his mind. 'What is this business about you being the Village Head? I thought only men could hold the position.'

Eleanor waved her hand airily as she led him into her study, an average-sized room, its walls lined with bookshelves containing documents, ledgers and Shakespeare. She closed the door behind her and sat down in her chair, motioning for him to take the one opposite her. She continued her tale and Nathan sat, mesmerised.

'After I left, Rajalakshmi – the doctor, you remember her, don't you? We are quite good friends now – and I travelled to Calcutta. I thought I might find someone from my family there, or maybe feel pull to the place.'

'You didn't find anyone?'

Eleanor shook her head. 'It is quite hard to find one's parent or relative when you have no information about them. And I felt no pull either. It did not feel like Calcutta was where I belonged.' She sighed. 'So, I travelled all over India, with Rajalakshmi, assisting her charity work. And then we came here.' She waved a hand over her surroundings as she leaned back in her chair and regarded him, assessing. 'It turns out, I have a sharp mind when it comes to strategizing and finding easy solutions for uplifting communities. I suggested some ways they could improve their agricultural yield - I had read about it - and they worked quite well. The villagers do not care if their head is male or female as long as they have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. It's been five years now and Gabby and I have not turned back since.' She smiled warmly and folded her arms across her chest, the bangles jingling as she did so. Nathan's attention went to the bangles then and Eleanor followed the movement.

'I noticed you staring at my bangles before as well,' she said, curiously. 'The bangles, they symbolise – '

'- the transition of a woman from girlhood to adulthood,' he completed. 'Only married women wear bangles up to their elbows as you do.'

Eleanor arched an eyebrow. 'Heavens, then you are in bad form. If you knew, why did you not enquire after my husband?'

Nathan laughed. 'You are not married, Eleanor.'

She frowned at that. 'And why ever not? I am dressed exactly as a married woman.'

He shook his head. 'If you were, you would have worn sindoor on your forehead.'

She snorted. 'Plenty of married women do not wear sindoor, especially those who are not Hindus.'

Nathan cocked his head and conceded. 'True, but if you had been married, Mathews would not have called me back here. He knows I would have murdered him. And, I think that you dress as you do because it pleases you. You do not care for norms. This is an act of defiance.'

A brilliant smile beamed on Eleanor's face and his heart stopped. By God, she was ethereal!

'Very well. You know me well. Then again, you always did know exactly how I felt.' Her smile eased and now the glint in her eyes seemed dangerous. He could not wait to know what it was that she itched to ask.

'Why are you here, Nathan?' she asked, switching to his given name and a pleasurable sensation went through him. It had been so long since he had heard his name from her lips and he relished every moment of it, not wanting it to end.

'Come now, Eleanor, I thought you would have figured that out on your own,' he said and crossed one leg over another.

The movement did not shock her however, she merely leaned in as if she could not comprehend, why she would know it. 'I fail to see how I would know what goes through the head of a man I have not seen in eight years.'

Nathan chuckled. 'Alright. I have come with a proposition.'

Eleanor seemed intrigued and gestured for him to continue.

'I have come to ask you to marry me,' he stated simply.

Finally, he got the reaction he had been hoping for. Eleanor's eyes went wide and her lips parted slightly as if she had heard that the Queen had sprouted wings and flown off.

'Marry you?' she asked incredulously. 'Why, I have not seen you in eight years! What makes you think I shall just up and wed you?'

'No, I do not think you shall,' he replied. 'Which is why I shall begin by courting you and we shall get to know each other once more.' He leaned in and was satisfied to see her do the same as well. 'Do you remember what you told me last when I asked you to marry me?'

Eleanor's lips twitched. 'I told you to ask me again in a few years when we are both different people, in a different place, at a different time.'

'Exactly. I have waited eight years to ask, my love. But like you said, we are different people now.'

'We are practically strangers!'

'Quite.' He rose and asked her the question he had been waiting to ask for the past eight years, 'Well then, may I have permission to court you?'

Eleanor beamed. 'I believe we should start with introductions first, don't you?' She held out her hand for him to take. 'I am Lady Eleanor Cantwell.'

Nathan smiled fondly as he raised his hand to his lips. 'I am Lord Nathan Huntington. I'm very pleased to meet you, Lady Eleanor.'

Her answering smile made Nathan soar with elation.

The future had never looked more hopeful for them.

**********

And that's the end!

Thank you so much, all of you, who have stuck by The Art of Defiance from beginning to end. Your support means a lot to me and honestly, I'm elated you read this from beginning to end!

This isn't the first book I began writing but it's the first I finished and in my head I'm going OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY FINISHED A BOOK!!!

I started writing this 4 years back and 16 year old me would be so happy to know I finished it!

Again, thank you so much for sticking with me till the end!

See you in the next book ;)