Epilogue
Twelve Months Later
An odd assemblage of people sat on the stone terrace at Hillsworth, watching the mowers at work preparing the bowling green. A dozen youths were wielding scythes, while a gaggle of giggling maidens followed along behind them. The maidens were using wooden rakes to collect up the mown grass, depositing it in tall baskets.
“This does bring back old times,” the Dowager Duchess remarked. “Lord Hillsworth, I am so glad you decided to reinstate the custom of having the village maidens follow after the mowers.”
“I remember being one of the youths wielding a scythe, and how mortally embarrassed I was at all the teasing. As I recall, I was being punished for something,” Mayson commented.“Perhaps my uncle hoped I would be bitten by one of the snakes. That field has always had plenty of them.”
“Goodness, gracious!” the current Duchess of Tolware, formerly Miss Blanche Notley, exclaimed. “Whatever are they doing?”
The young men out on the green were whooping and dancing about, while the maidens were shrieking and backing away. One fleet-footed young lady kilted up her skirts and dashed back toward the house where she was met by the butler. The fellow solemnly handed over a pair of blacksmith tongs and a large canvas sack. The young lady dashed back to the youths, handing over the implements to one who came to meet her. In short order, the tongs were used to pluck a wiry, wriggling body out of the grass.
“Smooth snake,” the youth called out.
“Unusual,” remarked a tall, lanky fellow wearing the most unlikely costume. He was clad in a farmer’s tunic over sporty nankeens, had a straw boater on his head, and wore a pair of spectacles with lenses of amazing thickness. “Smooth snakes prefer dense heather or old logs.”
“Even so, Mr. Petersen,” the Duke of Tolware put in, “It is no less marvelous than your handbills requesting snakes should have inspired Mr. Rutley to advertise for his nephew, Mayson Rutley, thus setting in motion quite a chain of events.”
“A chain of events,” the Duchess put in tartly, “That were injudiciously acted upon, nearly ending Lord Hillsworth’s life. I still do not understand what you were thinking, Darrius.”
“I wanted a new carriage?” the Duke said in a small voice. “He was offering a generous reward, you know.”
“A reward which he had no expectation of being called upon to pay,” Mayson commented. “Uncle Leroy was using the reward money from the snakes to purchase his Blue Ruin.”
“To have such things going on here,” the Duchess sighed. “George and I always thought it to be such a model estate.”
“It is fortunate that Father made some excellent investments,” Mayson remarked. “Even so, we owe a great deal to Evelyn’s business acumen. Her experience as a shopkeeper and her frugal housekeeping has been valuable in getting everything turned around.”
“You give yourself too little credit,” Evelyn said, leaning awkwardly over her rounding stomach to lay her hand over Mayson’s. “You are an excellent manager.”
“When is your lying in?” Blanche, who was now Duchess of Tolware, inquired.
“Not for a few more weeks, according to Dr. Alton. But I think this little person is doing its best to kick its way out. Mrs. Henshaw is of the opinion that the next heir of Hillsworth could put in an appearance any day now.”
“I should give you some sort of gift for your effort,” Mayson said, taking up her left hand in his.
Evelyn treated him to a winsome smile. “You have given me the best gift possible,” she said, turning the plain gold ring with her thumb. “Not in my wildest dreams did I truly believe that you would marry me until we stood before the vicar, and said our vows.”
“You thought me as poor-spirited as that?” Mayson teased her.
“Not poor spirited, just dedicated to doing the right thing. Which, in the eyes of the world, would have been seeking a lady of power and wealth to become your bride.”
“I have a lady of power and wealth,” Mayson said firmly. “Did I not mention this before? The riches you bring to our marriage are not to be found in the finest drawing rooms of London, or the finest palaces.”
“Love can be found in unlikely places,” Darrius declared, turning a fond glance toward Blanche.“I am a far better person for it.”
“Indeed it can,” his wife replied. “How glad I am that we did not give up on each other.”
Just then a shabby carriage drawn by a pair of dapple-gray horses rumbled up the drive.
“My parents have arrived,” Blanche noted, starting to rise.
“No, no, stay where you are,” Darrius said. “I will go to meet them. You need not stir.” He strode away toward the drive.
“Does this mean…?” Evelyn asked delicately.
“It does!” Blanche replied. “We feared that after my illness, I might not be able… but all is well.”
