Epilogue

“Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li”

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”

—Song of Songs

From The London Tattler:

Philip Ian Drake, Viscount Uxeter, and Susannah Henrietta, Lady Messingham, were quietly wed in a private ceremony in the Lady’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey, 12 November, A.D. 1751.

The sacrament was performed by Lord Bishop Wilcocks, Dean of Westminster.

The happy couple were delivered of twins within the fortnight.

***

London, April 1752

Reclining on a divan, Sukey watched Philip cradling their infant son and daughter in each of his arms, her pulse quickening with his open and unaffected display of tenderness.

“My lady.” George Selwyn entered, bowing to the viscountess. He then turned to Philip—“My lord”—and wrinkled a disapproving brow at Philip, Lord Uxeter’s completely unabashed picture of domesticity. “At the risk of interfering with your nursemaid’s duties, I am come to drag you off to Parliament. We are, after all, debating several important legislative acts today.”

“Indeed?” Sukey asked.

“The first is Lord Uxeter’s proposed Jewish Naturalization Bill to permit Jews the full benefit of citizenship without forswearing their religion. The second, nearer and dearer to my own heart, is the Murder Act.”

“The Murder Act?” She looked bemused. “Don’t we already have laws against that particular crime?”

Philip cast George a warning look that his friend shrugged off.

“Let us say it proposes a punishment more befitting the crime,” George remarked with nonchalance.

Philip added, “It might have been better named An Act to Decrease the Incidences of Grave Robbery in the Interest of Advancing Medical Science, or even more aptly George Selwyn’s Act to Contribute to Vile and Base Public Entertainments.”

George laughed. “Rather a mouthful, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

Diverting the subject, Sukey asked Philip, “How long will you be gone, my love?”

“No longer than absolutely necessary.” Philip reluctantly handed the children off to their respective nursemaids. “But after the session in Parliament, I am needed to meet with the estate factor on some matters of import pertaining to Hastings Park.”

“Does that mean you’ll be going to Sussex as well?”

“I hope not, my sweet, but if matters require my direct attention, we will repair to Sussex, nurses, baggage train and all. Actually,” he considered, “I have had a mind to take you there eventually. Do you think you are up to the journey?”

“To your family estate?” She sat up eagerly. “I would love to see it.”

“I would have been embarrassed to have taken you even six months ago, but great gains have been made in its restoration.”

“Philip, have you ever considered raising our children away from town?”

He looked surprised. “You’ve never said anything of it.”

“You’ve never asked.” She smiled. “I was country-bred. I think it much healthier for a child. Don’t you?”

“I confess to a pleasant enough childhood in Sussex while my mother lived. It would not be out of the question for us to take up residence there, if that is something you desire. The properties are all in my hands until Sophie comes of age.”

“Philip, speaking of the child, you once implied that Sophie was not, in truth, Edmund’s daughter…”

He frowned, scrambling for an answer that would appease without being a complete lie.

“My dearest, I was desperately grasping at straws when the subject arose, but I assure you there is no question of her bloodline. She is the rightful heir to the Hastings estate.”

“What a burden for a little girl. She will assuredly be a target for fortune hunters when she comes of age. I truly wouldn’t wish it on our own daughter, but at least she has you as her uncle to look after her interests.”

“Indeed,” Philip said. “It will be as if she were my own. Fatherhood has done much to bring out my protective instincts.”

“You are the best of fathers, Philip,” Sukey replied, eyes filled with love. “And the best of men. As I always knew you would be.”

He leaned down to kiss her, and then murmured, with a fleeting glance to the recently re-hung portrait of his father, “Who but you, my dearest, would ever have thought so.”