Chapter 21: Epilogue

Epilogue

 

Three months later… 

 

The home that sits beside St. Bartholomew’s cathedral, the one in which Father Thomas used to reside, seems brighter these days. It almost shines in the daylight, almost glows in the night. It was springtime, and so the garden was in bloom and the sun freed itself from the clouds more often, and yet still there seemed to be something special. It was likely all in people’s heads, but sometimes people joked that it was God’s recognition that Father Billings was well-suited to being priest. Annette knew that it was because Peter Thornbry had recently moved in. And he threw wonderful gatherings. 

Annette smiles as she gazes over the modest gathering. It was a comfortable sized home, the sort that could easily fit thirty or thirty-five guests within it for a dinner party. The twenty-two of them gathered now filled it quite contentedly, mulling about and talking and laughing and sharing drinks. She may not know everyone in the room, but Annette nonetheless feels welcomed and comfortable. She strolls over to Simon and Peter, chatting together whilst the poet gathers a new plate of appetizers. 

“Miss Baker,” Simon bows his head, his expression light and happy. “How wonderful of you to stop by.” 

“Father Billings, Mister Thornbry,” she curtsies a little, enjoying her choice of dress this afternoon. These days it was a toss of a coin whether or not she exited the home in a skirt of trousers, and she finds the variety enjoyable. “As always, you’ve thrown a lovely get-together.” 

“I’m afraid Peter is the one to thank for that,” Simon says, blushing lightly as he gazes over at the other man. “He has far more taste and style and hosting ability than I’ve ever possessed.” 

Annette smiles, watching Peter’s eyes lock warmly with Simon’s. “Well, I hear the congregations believe your sermons have improved dramatically now that you have a partner in theology to test out your ideas upon. The best of friends, the market has anointed you.” They all share a knowing look, delighted in the sweet pleasure of public cover and private bliss. “Peter, I hear you have a new collection of poems to be published soon.” 

Peter’s face flushes pink. “I’ve been very inspired of late.” 

“I cannot imagine why,” she teases. Annette turns her focus to Simon, sizing up the joy and delight he takes in being next to Peter. “I see the world has not fallen out from under you, Father.” 

He purses his lips, eyes sparking with glee. “It seems the world is not inclined to do that.” 

“You look happy,” she beams. 

“I believe I just might be, Miss Baker,” he tells her. His eyes peek over her head, making contact with someone behind her, and he says, “I do believe Sister Pullwater is hoping to speak with you.” 

“I’d not wish to disappoint her. It would be an unusual experience for her,” Annette chips, taking a sip of her drink and excusing herself. 

She pats a hand over the letter in her shirt pocket, comforted to confirm that it had not fallen out on the way over. Marian had finally written to her from Kestol, informing her that life with Wilcox and his family was better than she could have imagined. Annette had only an opportunity to glance over it before making her way to the party, and she was excited to get time later tonight to properly read it and compose a response. 

Sister Pullwater lightly taps a finger on Judith’s glass, instructing her to lift it just a tiny bit higher. It was a far gentler correction of etiquette than she used to make on Annette, though today Annette was in good enough spirits to only feel relief that it was going well for Judith. She curtsies as she approaches, mirroring the young twice-born girl’s perfect form. 

“Careful, Miss Velore,” Annette chides, her voice light and sweet, “with posture as rigid as that you’ll risk turning to stone.” 

“Miss Baker!” The girl chirps, dashing forward to hug Annette. Sister Pullwater seems to forgive the lapse in decorum, and greets her warmly as well. 

“Her posture has much improved,” the Sister notes. “She fights me on it far less than you do.” 

“Did,” Annette corrects. 

“Do,” Pullwater smirks. 

Judith tugs on the side of her dress, gazing up at Annette. “Sister Pullwater wanted me to ask if you would join me when we go to pick out a few new dresses.” 

“I would be delighted, Miss Velore,” Annette accepts. She gazes across the room at Cordelia, chatting comfortably with Samantha and introducing herself to some of the other guests. “I’m sure my detective partner could even be convinced to foot the bill. In fact, why don’t you go ask her? She’d love to greet you as well.” 

Judith tosses her an excited curtsy and chases off to ask Cordelia. Annette feels a billowing warmth inside her chest as she watches her go, and Sister Pullwater joins her and says, “She admires you deeply. It’s good of you to spend time with her.” 

“I never thought of myself as particularly inclined towards motherhood,” Annette replies, briefly enjoying the idea. “I’m surprised at how much Judith makes me want to consider it.”

The Sister takes her hand, squeezing it affectionately. “We both know you won’t settle down anytime soon.” 

“You may be right on that, dear Sister,” she flashes her a playful smirk. “For now, I’m content with ‘Auntie Annette.’”

Pullwater nods, squeezing her palm once more before dropping it. She takes a long breath, a little hesitant, and asks, “How… how are things at… home?” 

“She is very well,” Annette answers her, teasing out her meaning. “Busy with all the legal cleanup from everything, but Pemberly has helped a great deal. Beyond that, I believe she is quite enjoying reconnecting with Miss Deveroux.” 

“She is keeping the name?” Pullwater frowns a little. 

“Apparently she is quite fond of it, despite the divorce.” 

“And so now you dwell in a home with three women of the same inclinations,” she mutters, grumbling at the idea and trying not to for Annette’s sake. 

Annette grins. It was unexpected to have Samantha move in with them, but she’d been quite quickly cast out of the gentry, abandoned just as fast as she was picked up by them. Revier was in prison, yet the divorce was granted fairly rapidly thereafter. She’d had nowhere to go, and Cordelia had a desire to right the wrongs of the past. So, Annette moved into Cordelia’s room with the detective and Samantha took Annette’s old room. 

“Miss Deveroux keeps to herself,” Annette takes the nun’s hand once more, trying to reassure her. “Have no fear.” 

“Oh, Annette,” Pullwater releases her familiar sigh. “... She is treating you well?”

“Better than I believed I deserved.” 

“That is some comfort then,” the Sister nods. “It seems you have eccentric tastes.” 

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“Thank you, dear Sister.” 

“Of course, my daughter. Will I see you for tea next week?” 

“Indeed,” Annette confirms. “Though, it is possible there may be a disruption in the following week. Miss Jones may be accepting a case in Kereland in the near future.” 

“Indeed?” Pullwater grows quiet.

“Something the matter?” 

“Inform me if you do take the case,” she requests, her face stern and focused. “I may have some things to discuss with you.” 

Before Annette can ask any following questions, Judith is dancing over to them, exclaiming, “Miss Jones said yes!” 

She pulls the girl into another enthusiastic embrace. “Then I shall accompany you Monday morning to go shopping.” 

“She also said she has something to tell you,” Judith relates. 

“Then I had better go at once, it is often something unusual or exciting.” She nods to both of them, beaming at the unlikely family they were a part of. “Good evening, Judith. And to you as well, Sister Pullwater.” 

They bid her farewell and make plans for her to arrive on Monday for shopping, and Annette strolls over the room to Cordelia. The detective excuses herself from her conversation, stepping aside so that the two of them could speak alone. 

“I was told you wished to speak with me?” 

Cordelia grins. “An excuse to bring you nearer to me. How painfully my heart misses you when you are gone.” 

Annette giggles, wishing she could place a kiss on her cheek. “It must be agonizing when I am so far away. An entire living room separating us! How wretched.” 

“All the more loathsome when all I wish to do is take you by the cheek and kiss you,” Cordelia drops her voice low, her eyes flashing with desire. 

“This is an informal gathering, Miss Jones. There is nothing preventing us from simply returning home and tending to the wound in your heart.” 

“Yes,” the detective smirks, leaning in even closer to ensure they would not be overheard. “But how much more fun would it be to sneak upstairs and explore this aching there?” 

Annette blushes. “Well, I would need to find an excuse to slip away…” 

“And I might have to depart early, in my usual fashion, and then climb in through a window.” 

“You have five minutes,” Annette decides. 

“I’ll be there in two, my love,” Cordelia asserts, turning on her heel to quickly say her goodbyes. 

Annette watches her go with a delight in her chest. Deciding she has a few minutes to spare, she joins Samantha. A little part of her still finds their new dynamic so unusual, and she believes the former noblewoman feels it too. She was unsure of what it would become, just as Samantha was likely unsure of what she would become. 

“Miss Deveroux, my lovely roommate,” Annette greets her, “how are you?” 

“Annie, greetings to you as well,” Samantha inclines her head, stepping aside to speak with her. Her eyes flick towards the door as Cordelia departs. “I find that I am once again tending to my mild jealousy.” 

Annette smiles. “Any luck at the Faery?” 

“Oh, yes,” Samantha boasts. “Though, I nonetheless find it is difficult to find someone who matches the excitement you two bring. How boring everyone else can be.” 

“It’s good to see you settling in amongst us peasants.” 

Samantha giggles, waving her away with a teasing, “Oh, shut up and go run off with your woman.” 

“I’ve always been known to follow your directions. Why stop now?” 

The two of them laugh, and Annette slips away, making a few rounds before sneaking upstairs. She finds the detective tucked away in a small closet, as far from the stairs as possible. Annette begins unbuttoning her shirt, leaning her back up against the closed door. 

“How do you want me, my love?” She asks. 

“Unceasingly,” Cordelia replies. 

 

THE END. 

 

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