In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Epilogue

Charlotte stepped down from the carriage as she took in the sight of the church before her.

It all looked rather quaint against the backdrop of green, rolling hills, the scent of lilies permeating the space with their light fragrance along the edges of the property. The sun shone around the building, rays striking the rose-colored mosaic to cast sprigs of color in every direction.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, her eyes watching the fall of her cream-colored gown as she stepped onto the grass. She smiled, for she was to be married.

Today.

Sophie tugged lightly on her gown, and Charlotte met her friend's brown eyes. Sophie had shown up the day after the fire, her abigail and mother in tow. She had received Charlotte's letter and, frantic with worry, had made haste to the Claymore estate.

It seemed Sophie's bedside manner was worse than Charlotte's as Sophie had delivered a scolding so blistering, Charlotte was left feeling like a troublesome pupil just rapped on the knuckles by her governess.

Sufficiently brow-beaten, Sophie had then drawn Charlotte into her arms and it had sent them both into a fit of tears until Greyson had happened upon them. He had tried to back away, the panicked look on his face bringing a watery smile to Charlotte's face.

Shaking off the remembrance, Charlotte glanced down at her gown, hardly believing the abrupt change in her circumstances. The gown was a beautiful chiffon confection that highlighted the caramel tones in Charlotte's hair. It had a low scoop neck with beaded embroidery at the waist. A small train of buttons trailed down her back, leaving her upper shoulders bare to the soft breeze.

Rather scandalous and yet, at the same moment, modest too.

It suited her.

A spring of hair curled over her forehead, and Charlotte found her gloved hand rising up to the loose topknot of curls. The only luxury she had afforded her appearance was in allowing Lady Marianne to weave a string of pearls through her locks.

"I wore them when I married Benjamin," she had said, her fingers trailing lightly over each individual bead. "I hope they will bring you both as much love as Benjamin and I had."

Was this, Charlotte wondered now, her throat tight, what it was like to have a family?

A mother?

A sister?

A carriage drew up behind her, its wheels rattling on the cobblestones. Charlotte watched as the dowager countess and her daughter came to a stop. Lady Marianne was let down first, her gown in a soft shade of lilac with shortened sleeves and a shawl of pure white draped in the crooks of her elbows.

Lady Georgianna was next, her curls resplendent in an elaborate whorl of curls and pins. She had traded her usual green-colored gowns for a yellow one that played with the ends of her curls like licking flames.

Charlotte couldn't help remembering the past week. After Greyson and Charlotte had told of wishes for hasty nuptials, the estate had become a veritable hive of activity.

Marianne had taken the helm, scheduling the various fittings all week where Charlotte was tucked and pulled, pushed and hemmed. It was all rather a whirlwind of color and fabrics. Georgianna would watch on the sidelines, a hint of mischief playing in her green eyes. It was so very different from Charlotte's first impression of Georgianna as the elegant and reserved lady that it made her blink back tears.

They had become very dear to her in such a short amount of time.

Marianne had also rallied her son into journeying to London, the archbishop being prevailed upon for the special license and the posting of the banns in The Times. Although, Charlotte couldn't help but think it was all rather silly considering the unusual circumstances.