The Duke's Wife {Wallflower #1}

Epilogue (Pic of Christopher)

Epilogue

"One's not half of two; two are halves of one."
― E.E. Cummings

"This isn't happily ever after. It's so much more than that."
― Kiera Cass, The One

*Rhea*

Hours later, Rhea laid in Hadrian's arms, in their bed, at the manor, completely and utterly satisfied. She couldn't remember being this happy in her life - not even during their honeymoon.

Rhea smiled against Hadrian's chest, lightly kissing his skin as he gently perused her hair; the blonde locks falling from his deft fingers. Several times, Rhea had expected for this heaven-like moment to disappear; vanish as she awakened into reality. But she had yet to do so, and when she subtly pinched her arm she knew this was no dream.

She still could not fathom how they had managed to get through all the past ordeals and tribulations unscathed. Well, mostly. Rhea found herself praying her thanks and fortune, grateful to have her husband at her side.

Thinking about past troubles had Rhea glance up at Hadrian with a pondering look.

Hadrian smiled at her, noticing his wife's curious stare. He knew, from past experience, that she had a thought dwelling on her mind and was about to let him know of it.

"Hadrian?" Rhea murmured, looking at him seriously.

Hadrian tried not to grin. How did one take his wife in such stern consideration? He didn't know how, but he managed to hold back his smile.

"Yes, my love?"

"Pray tell, whatever happened to Lord Utter-Beckham, Lord Ashwin, and that dreadful woman Pattie?"

Hadrian let out a small smile when Rhea purposefully called Lottie's name incorrectly. And then, thinking about the trio, he wondered if he should tell his wife. He did not want her to fret about such a group of refuse* as that one. Then again, he knew his wife would try and find out the answers on her own.

"Beckham is dead." He stated. He expected Rhea to be distraught, to gasp and cry out her shock, but, to his surprise, and even Rhea's, she remained silent.

Rhea had known on some instinctive level that Lord Beckham had been killed, she vaguely remembered another shot and then a ceasefire, of sorts.

"I know he was your brother," she said hesitantly. Hadrian gave her a quick nod.

"Half-brother," he corrected, "My father was a cruel man. He always had been. He had been the one to wrangle your parents into debt; into selling you, the child they loved, to me - the Devil's son."

Rhea was stunned into silence by Hadrian's revelation. Her parents had not been lying, then. All this time, Rhea thought despairingly.

"I don't blame Beckham for his hatred against our father. His hatred against me. In a way, I understand it. The old duke was a hard man to please, a harder man for everything else." Hadrian stated, somewhat dispassionately, "But I will never forgive him for going after you. That is where I draw the line. Had he done anything to me I would have taken it tenfold, but you . . . I cannot, I will not lose you. Not to anyone, Rhea,"

Rhea nodded reassuringly, when Hadrian continued to stare at her. Rhea had not said anything else, and once Hadrian had given her time to grasp the news, he went on ahead. "The disgruntled vazey* pup was thrown into the gallows. Good damn riddance. He'll be awaiting trial and then will . . ." Hadrian watched Rhea's expectant face and disregarded what he was going to say, ". . . suffer for an eternity." Or, more like, hang for his bloody crimes.