The two women thanked Talbot for his role in their voyage, he nonchalantly dismissed any importance or gratitude directed his way, and they went into the house.
Colin and Lizzie remained on the sidewalk for a while.
“We still can join them, you know,” he told his wife when he noticed that she was wiping her eyes.
“No, we made the right decision,” she sniffled. “That doesn’t mean I’m not sad, though. I’m going to miss them.”
“Did you ever consider visiting them once they’re settled?” He proposed, and Lizzie’s head jerked towards him.
“Could we?”
“Of course,” he shrugged.
“I think I was just so focused on how much you dislike travel that it never crossed my mind.”
“A man can change,” Colin said gravely, and Lizzie nodded.
As he was about to help her into the carriage, a raspy voice called out from the other side of the street, “Talbot!”
They both turned towards the caller, who turned out to be a kind-looking, cheerful older woman, and Talbot gave her one of his deep bows, the ones reserved for important people.
“Hello, Hettie.”
Epilogue
1836
On a particularly bright July morning, as she sat by the large bay window that her husband had commissioned the best Norfolk glassworkers to make for her in the morning room of their Norwich home, a heavily pregnant Duchess Elizabeth Talbot looked back at everything that had happened during the last fifteen years and took stock of her life nowadays.
As her mind wandered, she took sips of her hot chocolate and soothingly stroked her firm, already somewhat tense, stomach. The house was busy and full these days, so these stolen moments in the morning were the only time she had to herself, and if the tension of her stomach was any indication, there would be even less of it soon. And yet, she was looking forward to it.
Isabella and Charlotte were staying at Norwich with their families, and Nicholas was also due to arrive today. She glancedout the window to see her wonderful three children playing with their cousins and friends as Mary’s only daughter, Beth, calmly sat on a bench nearby and read.
Lizzie couldn’t contain her smile at the thought of how different the girl was from her loud, assertive mother. Mary had spent many a night in the kitchen complaining about having given birth to the female version of her husband.
“And when she isn’t in that workshop with him, all she does is read, just like her godmother!” She’d say accusingly.
Mary was no longer Elizabeth’s lady’s maid; those duties now belonged to Stevenson’s wife, Kitty. Despite having become a married man after his childhood sweetheart was widowed, Stevenson had declined all alternatives he’d been offered and had chosen to continue serving as Colin’s valet.
After Mrs Hughes had retired and gone to live in a wonderful cottage nearby that the Talbots had gifted her, Mary had taken over the helm of the Norwich household, and she excelled in the position. She ruled with an iron fist, and Mr Brandon often half-joked that he feared her.
Thomas had, indeed, visited after Mary’s daughter was born, and he’d brought with him a wife from the West Indies, which had caused quite the commotion among everyone who knew him. Lizzie’s overdue reconciliation with him had been tearful and emotional, and even Talbot had been forced to set aside his jealousy when Thomas had pressed a coin into Lizzie’s hand.
“I never spent it. Even at my poorest, I couldn’t… Knowing what your father had paid me for…”
That coin now sat framed in their library, the heart of their home, where they played and read with their children andbonded as a couple in the evenings. It was a reminder of many things, some bitter and some sweet, some devastating and some hopeful, just like life itself.
On some days, the coin served as a reminder of what money should best be spent on. There were people, like Elizabeth’s father, who chose to use their wealth to indulge their base impulses or hurt others, but Elizabeth’s family used theirs to improve the lives of their fellow men. The year they had decided that they would stay in England, Elizabeth and Colin had joined forces with the Coopers and other like-minded people even more decisively, and in the years that followed, the Talbot name became synonymous with both charity and progress.
When Elizabeth and Colin had decided to live in the Mayfair house full-time whenever they were in London, the duke had insisted on changing the lighting and plumbing in the house, and when Mrs Barlow and Mr Ed had permanently transferred to the Norwich house after Mary had given birth, Mrs Clarke moved in to run the kitchen. That was when everything had fallen into place for Talbot and he’d declared Mayfairthe superior residence.
Since he no longer had any use for his St. James’s Square house, they had it transformed into a home for elderly paupers, which Hettie now lived in and helped at. Her main duty was teaching new arrivals how to use the pipes for bathing.
After Elizabeth had gifted him James Lackington’s autobiography, Colin was so inspired by the man’s story of hard work and success that he told everyone about it. Eventually, he’d lent the book to Pratt, whose change for the better over the last ten years had surprised everyone who knew him, and afterPratt had found himself equally impressed by it, the two friends decided to start an investment society which would fund people from all walks of life who had come up with promising projects or inventions.
Every other Monday, Pratt and Talbot would sit in their office at the St. James Square house and listen to proposals. This endeavour had not only turned out to be lucrative beyond their wildest dreams, but throughout the years, it had also helped light candles to illuminate the way for hundreds of men and women whose brilliant ideas would have stayed in the dark otherwise.
On other days, the coin reminded Elizabeth of the many tokens they had seen at the Foundling Hospital, and the many children that no one had ever returned to claim. Working with them remained an integral part of the couple’s lives, both in London and in Norfolk. Elizabeth was now the head of a coordinated network of volunteer teachers that worked on spreading literacy in various hospitals and schools in the city, whereas the former foundling children, William and Mary, who were now a married couple, worked tirelessly with the Brandons in the Norwich wing of the Foundling Hospital.
