Epilogue

"All stories must end so, with the next tale winking out of the corners of the last pages, promising more, promising moonlight and dancing and revels, if only you will come back when spring comes again." Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

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Epilogue

Three Months Later

March 1812

Mayfair, London

"Oof!" exclaimed Peter, as he all but dropped a large wooden case on the counter of the shop floor.

Belle heard the noise from across the room where she had been organising bolts of fabric. "Careful!" she exclaimed, abandoning her project and flitting to Peter's side to ensure its contents were safe.

"What is even in that thing?"

"Buttons."

"Are they made of lead?" Peter complained as he rubbed his hands together.

Belle giggled, and Peter's blue eyes found her immediately, daring her with a challenging smirk as he arched an eyebrow.

"Are you laughing at me, wife?"

"No, I wouldn't dare," Belle replied innocently.

"I don't believe you," Peter retorted in good humour as he suddenly charged at her. Belle squealed as she ran around the counter, but Peter's long legs were quick to catch her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her back to his chest as he lifted her off of her feet.

When Peter finally released her, he spun Belle around just so that he could capture her lips with his. He held her cheeks with his large hands, and she could feel him smiling against her.

"Let that be a warning to never again laugh at your husband," Peter murmured as they parted.

"Oh, never." Belle smiled coyly. "Be gentle with my buttons."

"Whatever you say, Mrs Denham." Peter winked.

Belle was still unused to her married name, and to hear it spoken aloud filled her with butterflies. She had made the decision to retain her maiden name professionally. It would be the name of her business, after all. But privately, she, Peter, and their family one day, would share a name together.

They had been married a week, and this was their version of a honeymoon journey. Peter had gone on to London not long after their engagement was announced at the family dinner a week after the announcements of Grace and Susanna's pregnancies.

While in London, Peter was able to secure the shop and the flat above for them, while simultaneously returning to his work at Beresford Press in preparation for the publication of "Confessions of a Lady". The book performed terrifically well amongst women, and Peter's advertisement plan had ensured that the first run of copies were highly sought after. It seemed that only two months later there were already plans for a second edition.

Their communication reverted back to their correspondence, as it had the first time that Peter had returned to London, and Belle became determined to improve herself day in and day out. If she was to operate a business in London, then she needed to be literate. She read every day, and she spent an hour a day practising her letters to improve her penmanship.

While she would not consider herself fluent, reading became less of a struggle, and she found that she could read words incidentally now, without having to think about them.

When Belle wasn't reading, she was designing and sewing. Being her own client was alarming difficult, and Belle had never been more self-critical in her life then when she was trying to create her own wedding gown. The stress of which was exacerbated by the tight time frame. They had planned on a short engagement so that Belle could be in business before the start of the next summer season in April.

Cecily had gifted Belle a bolt of French silk which she had ordered from London as her engagement gift, and Susanna had allowed Belle to use the leftover pieces of lace from her wedding dress. After stitching, unpicking, pulling apart, and stitching again, Belle had finally completed her ocean blue masterpiece.

It was a beautiful creation that she had designed to resemble a waterfall. The softness of the silk cascaded down her front in purposeful pleats, with a long train at the rear embroidered with dozens of forget-me-nots. Susanna's lace was sewn into the collar and sleeves and when it was completed, Belle was certain that it was perfect.

And it had been. Despite no members of the aristocracy being present for her wedding, Cecily had still wielded her influence and there were stories praising Belle's dressmaking prowess once more, with connections made back to the press that followed Susanna's wedding. Of course, Belle's story was still of interest to the public, and there were definitely people in London who would know who she was when they learned her name, but when Belle walked down the street in London, she did not feel as though everyone knew what had happened to her.

To be certain, people stared at the black woman on the arm of a white man, but their ignorance could never take away her freedom or her happiness. There was far too much good in her life to dwell on little people. But she would always be glad for them in knowing that they had never endured what she had, just as she had been glad for the villagers back in Ashwood.

When Peter and Belle had arrived in London the day after their wedding, he had brought her directly to what was to be her shop and their home. Belle had been busy marvelling at all the buildings and people, carriages, roads ... so many buildings! She had never seen anything quite like London in her life! She had been so busy staring around her that she had not noticed the sign on the front of the empty shop.

DESJARDINS

Modiste & Couturier

Belle read the sign over and over, completely in awe of the intricate way her name had been painted. Her name. There she was with her title and everything. She was a modiste and a couturier. And thanks to Cecily's prowess with the papers, she had already been contacted by several debutantes wanting to commission gowns for their upcoming seasons.

Which was why their honeymoon would be spent establishing her shop, and not off in some other part of the country. Perhaps there would be time for a trip somewhere else after the summer season had concluded.

The shop floor was a mess of supplies, trunks and crates. Peter's brother-in-law, Jim, had been kind enough to make them some furniture as a wedding gift, and the large counter, which Belle planned on using as her sewing table, had travelled with them from Ashwood.

Peter had sourced the rest of the furniture while in London, and the tables, chairs, cupboard and armoires were dotted around the floor without any real organisation. The shop itself consisted of two rooms. The larger front room Belle planned on using as her sewing room, but also a place to display her designs, fabrics and catalogues. The smaller back room she planned on converting into a private room for fittings.

The upstairs flat was, indeed, very comfortable, and like the shop, was still a mess of their belongings. But Belle and Peter would make it their home.

They spent the rest of their day organising the front room, working together to move furniture, unpack supplies, and to make the room looking like a workable space.

At five in the afternoon, Peter left to walk the short distance to Jack and Claire's home to collect dinner for the both of them. They were yet to tidy the kitchen upstairs, or to brave the old stove.

While he was gone, Belle was sweeping the floor for about the fourteenth time that day. Dust seemed to emerge and remerge when pushing about heavy furniture.

As she finished sweeping, there was a knock on the door. She smiled. Why was Peter knocking? Belle leant the broomstick up against one of the walls and removed her apron, just as her stomach grumbled. She pulled open the door but was surprised to see that it wasn't Peter there with a basket of supper, but two women.

One older, one younger, a mother and daughter pair. They were immediately familiar to Belle, and she furrowed her brow to try and place them.

"Do forgive the imposition, Miss Desjardins," the mother stated. She was an elegant woman in appearance and in dress. She was fair, with light hair and pale skin, and her eyes were a grey green. Belle could see that her gown had been amended to reflect the high waisted fashions, but that this dress appeared to be reflective of the '90s waistlines. The gown appeared to have once been made from expensive patterned silk.

Her daughter was dressed more simply in a lilac coloured linen. She was lovely, and she had inherited her fair complexion and golden hair colour from her mother, though her eyes were a dark brown in contrast.

It was the nerves and apprehension on the face of the daughter that triggered Belle's memory. They had been introduced at the Winter Assembly last November. This young girl was Cressie Martin.

"Mrs Martin," Belle recalled, "Miss Martin. What a surprise to see you both in London." And she was genuinely surprised.

"We are here for the season," replied Mrs Martin. "But of course," she added. "Cressida is to debut." She placed a hand on the small of her daughter's back.

"I congratulate you," Belle told her with a smile. "What an exciting time."

Cressie did not appear at all excited, and Belle could not help but feel terribly sorry for her. At the assembly, she had appeared to have been dragged around by her mother, and today seemed no different. The reason that Belle had been so surprised to see them in London was because they had very abruptly left Ashwood several months ago to stay with relatives. This was while Belle had been away herself, and so she had not learned of it until later. Jem had been quite forlorn at his time with Cressie being cut so short with little chance for redemption after what sounded like an awkward first encounter at the ball.

Jem had since been determined to better himself and to establish himself as an adult with a living. He had been working under Adam for several months now as his steward and by all reports was doing very well.

"But of course," Mrs Martin agreed. "Terribly exciting. Cressida is very eager to make an impression come April."

Cressie's dark eyes lowered.

"Miss Martin is very lovely. I am certain she will make an impression wherever she goes," Belle murmured as she watched Cressie sympathetically.

When Belle spoke, Cressie looked up, and her rosy lips upturned in a slight smile.

"Thank you, Miss Desjardins," she said softly. "You are too kind."

"Am I to assume that you require a debutante gown?" Belle asked, her attention returning to Mrs Martin.

Mrs Martin nodded. "Yes. Yes, we do. When we heard that you had become a modiste, it seemed only right to renew the acquaintance. It could only be you who could design a gown for Cressie, you both once being Ashwood residents. Everyone knows of Lady Susanna's wedding gown. I can only hope we could come to an arrangement to create something divine for my daughter."

Belle could read between the lines. She had already seen it in the economy of Mrs Martin's once expensive gown that was now twenty years out of fashion. Mrs Martin had not the funds to purchase a debutante gown from anyone else. Perhaps her flattery was exaggerated, but Belle wouldn't do it for Mrs Martin. She felt inclined to help Cressie. Her heart hurt for women who were not free, and she recognised that look in Cressie Martin's eyes.

"Would you both come back tomorrow?" Belle asked. "I am not yet set up for customers, and I expect my husband imminently."

Mrs Martin appeared relieved, and she nodded with a pleasing smile. "Certainly. We wish you a good evening, Miss Desjardins ... or should I say Mrs ...?"

"Denham," replied Belle.

Cressie's eyes widened as Belle spoke the name, recognition flooding her face, before she quickly masked it.

"Well, good evening, Mrs Denham." Mrs Martin nodded her head at Belle before she led Cressie away down the street.

Peter returned not five minute later with a basket laden with food. It smelled delicious, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he stowed the basket on the counter so that he could kiss her softly.

"I hope you are hungry," he murmured against her lips. "We've an entire pork loin."

Belle pulled away, still quite shocked at what had just transpired. Peter frowned at her expression and he cocked his head.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

Belle gripped onto Peter's arms as she cried, "You are not going to believe who just came by to commission a dress!"

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The end!!!

I hope you enjoyed the ride!! You may now disembark the rollercoaster!

I lovedddd writing Peter and Belle's story and I'm so happy to give them their happily ever after!

Below is an updated family tree for where we are as of March 1812.

Peregrine John Clarence Edmund Beresford (1751 - December 26, 1806)

Cecily Margaret Beresford (nee Simpson) (1761 - )

Adam Peregrine John Beresford (1781 - )

John Anthony Edward "Jack"  Beresford (1783 - )

Susanna Augusta Theodosia Euphemia  Beresford (1787 - )

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Edward John Denham (1760 - 1801)

Ellen Grace Denham (nee Pearce) (1760 - )

Grace Elizabeth Denham (1783 - )

Catherine Ellen "Kate" Denham (1785 - )

Claire Frances Denham (1789 - )

Peter Edward Denham (1791 - )

Jeremy Charles "Jem" Denham (1794 - )

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Adam Peregrine John Beresford (1781 - )

Grace Elizabeth Beresford (nee Denham) (1783 - )

Peregrine Edwardia "Perrie" Beresford (1807 - )

Cecily Ellen "Lily" Beresford (1810 - )

Baby (Due 1812)

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Jack Edward Anthony Beresford (1783 - )

Claire Frances Beresford (nee Denham) (1789 - )

Jacqueline Beatrice "Jackie" Beresford (1810 - )

Maria Frances Beresford (1811 - )

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Alexander Archambeau "Alex" Whitfield (1783 - )

Susanna Augusta Theodosia Euphemia Whitfield (nee Beresford) (1787 - )

Baby (Due 1812)

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James Percival "Jim" Ellis (1780 - )

Catherine Ellen "Kate" Ellis (née Denham) (1785 - )

James Edward Ellis (1809 - )

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Peter Edward Denham (1791 - )

Belle Denham (née Desjardins) (1792-)

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I hope you come back next Saturday to join me for Jem and Cressie's story!! You get one week to breathe before you have to get right back on that roller coaster hahahaha

I'll do a cover reveal on my Instagram this week, I'll post on Wattpad to let you know when it's up :)

Bye A Defiant Liaison. Hello An Innocent Affair!

Vote and comment xxx