The Duke’s Runaway Cinderella – Extended Epilogue

Two Years Later

The late morning sun filled the dining hall with a golden glow. Amelia stood by the long table while Beatrice, her maid, rattled off a list of preparations from a folded sheet in her hand.

“We will need the blue porcelain set for the table, my lady. And extra place cards. Daisy says we are short two bottles of the red wine, so she has sent for more from the cellar. The roast pheasant will need garnishing just before serving. The cook also recommends an additional tart… pear and honey, perhaps.”

Amelia smiled faintly. “Beatrice, this is only a small gathering with close family and just a few friends. Nothing about this event requires the preparation of a royal banquet.”

Beatrice shook her head as she moved to straighten a napkin. “Small or not, my lady, the Sinclair household are visiting. And the dowager duchess insisted on the pheasant. You know what that means, every garnish must be perfect.”

Amelia sighed. Catherine, now Lady Sinclair, had gone on a voyage with Lord Sinclair a few months ago to Italy and their ship was set to come in today. She had taken it upon herself to prepare a welcome party for the couple but now she wasn’t certain if she had thought it through.

“Again, Beatrice. It is only a small gathering.”

“Their tastes might have been refined by the Italian delicacies my lady. We must match it somehow,” Beatrice responded, her voice just as serious.

“Very well,” Amelia said with a laugh. “But we will keep it simple. No elaborate displays. And tell Daisy that I do not want to see any towers of sugared fruit. I know how long it takes her to make those.”

Beatrice scribbled something on her list. “I will see what I can do.”

Amelia nodded and stepped out into the hallway. As she walked down toward the drawing room, she heard the patter of small feet before she saw them. Edward, their dark-haired, bright-eyed baby boy, running full tilt after Emma and Charlotte, both shrieking with laughter. The three children tumbled past her in a blur, giving her almost little to no regard.

“Careful around the stairs!” the dowager duchess called from the landing above. “Mind your feet!”

They ignored her entirely.

The dowager muttered, “Why do I even bother?” before turning her attention to Amelia.

“What of Thomas?” Amelia asked, walking closer.

“He is out in the garden with the groundskeeper, working on his bow,” Julian’s mother replied.

Amelia shook her head with a sigh. “He is serious about this hunting business, isn’t he?”

“Looks very much like it,” came the response.

Amelia laughed softly. “The children must be missing their mother severely.”

“Good thing she arrives tonight,” the dowager replied. “I do not know how the governess does it, managing three children at once.”

Amelia shrugged. “Mary knows the children, and she knows how to handle them.”

By late afternoon, the long table was set, with the candles waiting to be lit. Guests began to arrive in twos and threes. Catherine entered on her husband’s arm, radiant in a pale blue gown.

“Lady Sinclair,” Amelia greeted warmly. “My dearest sister! Welcome home.”

“Amelia,” Catherine said, embracing her. “It feels as though we haven’t seen each other in months.”

“That is probably because we have not,” Amelia responded, throwing a laugh.

Lord Sinclair bowed politely to Amelia before going to greet Julian.

The evening began with easy conversation, as voices filled the room. Then, during a quiet moment between courses, Julian leaned closer to Amelia.

“There is someone I would like you to meet,” he said.

She looked at him curiously. “Oh? Who is that?”

Julian smiled. “I asked my solicitor a while ago to delve into the Montrose line and he has found someone.”

Amelia frowned. “He found someone?”

Julian nodded. “Your mother’s younger brother.”

Amelia froze. “What?

“Yes.” Julian responded as if telling Amelia that this was the furthest thing from a dream.

“I have an uncle?”

“He believed his niece, along with his sister—your mother—had died in a fire,” Julian said gently. “It took some time to find him, but, well, I think you should meet.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Where is he?”

The doors opened, and a man stepped inside. He was tall, with lines at the corners of his eyes, and hair streaked with grey.

The duke rose and pulled Amelia up to stand next to him.

“Amelia,” Julian said, “may I introduce you to Sir Jonathan Bennett.”

Jonathan crossed the room slowly, his gaze never leaving her face. “Heavens, you look just like her,” he said, his voice catching.

Amelia remained frozen in place for a while. She didn’t know what to do. Not with the man still looking at her, the joy in his face rather palpable.

“Sir Jonathan, this is my wife, Lady Amelia Everleigh, Duchess of Belvoir.”

Amelia swallowed hard. “You knew my mother well?”

“She was my sister,” he said simply, his voice edged with emotion. Then, almost as if to fill the silence and prevent himself from breaking down even more, he dug immediately into his pockets.

“I brought something for you. Something I am certain she would have wanted you to have. She never went anywhere without it.”

He pulled a small silver brooch with its enamel in the shape of a white rose. Amelia took it with trembling fingers.

“She was wearing this the last time I saw her,” Jonathan said.

Amelia blinked back tears. “Thank you. Truly.”

Over the next hour, her uncle shared stories of her mother. She learned what Anna Montrose was like as a girl. How she climbed apple trees in their father’s orchard and sewed late into the night. How she laughed until she cried at some small mischief.

Amelia listened with all the patience in the world. She had been waiting to hear things about her parents. Things she couldn’t find out from a book in the library or some drawing on paper. Jonathan had provided those things, and she couldn’t be more grateful to him no matter how hard she tried.

“You must stay for the night, Uncle,” she stated when the footmen walked in to serve the man.

“I do not want to impose. I found an inn by the end of the road. I shall—”

“Nonsense,” Julian cut in, his voice sharper than the butter knife in his hand. “You are family. Family do not stay at an inn. I shall make certain that a room is prepared for you.”

A brief pause passed between the table and Amelia could see the gears in Jonathan’s head turning. At last, as the footmen settled the olives before him, he exhaled.

“I suppose it would be less stressful.”

Amelia leaned in, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The food is better as well.”

Jonathan scoffed. “I will take your word for it.”

“Please,” Julian stated, gesturing toward one of the spoons in front of him.

“Oh, before I forget—” Jonathan stated, flinching once he remembered something.

He dug into his pockets again and Amelia watched with peaked interest. He pulled out a leatherbound portfolio and handed it to Amelia. “This was your father’s. Your mother hid it because she was afraid of what some people might do with it.”

Amelia took the book, her face covered in confusion. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“Now, please, eat.” Julian stated again, his voice edged with a bit more firmness. Jonathan nodded and grabbed his spoon as Amelia’s eyes continued to examine the leather journal in her hands.

***

Amelia walked down the hallway later that evening with the leather journal still in her hand. Her chest rose and fell as if she had run across the estate over and over but she didn’t stop walking. She had an urgent matter to attend to, and she couldn’t wait to see the look on Julian’s face when she informed him about it.

The candlelight in Julian’s study cast a soft glow across the books and scattered papers, but all she saw was him. He looked up from his desk when she entered, and the tension in her face clearly indicated she had something important to say.

“Julian,” she whispered.

He rose at once. “What is it?”

She walked forward and placed the folded pages into his hand. “It was hidden in my father’s journal. The one Jonathan gave to me at dinner. Look.”

Julian set aside his quill and carefully unfolded the papers. His eyes moved across the sketches and numbers, the familiar precision of Edward Montrose’s hand. He drew a long breath, then looked back at Amelia.

“My father’s final naval design. This is his most brilliant invention yet. But he never got around to working on it.”

“This is extraordinary. Now I understand why your mother gave it to your uncle. He must have hidden it to keep it from Reginald.”

Tears blurred Amelia’s sight as she nodded. “All this time, I thought everything was gone. But they left this. He left this… for us.”

Julian placed the paper on the desk and came to her. His hand rose to her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had fallen. “You are trembling.”

“I cannot help it,” she whispered. “It feels as though I have them back, if only for a moment.”

Julian’s hand slid to her waist, steadying her. His voice grew firm, even though his eyes softened. “They would be proud of you. You have carried their name and their spirit, even when you did not know it. And now we will carry their work forward together.”

She leaned into him, her body loosening in his embrace. For a long while, neither spoke. The fire crackled in the fireplace, the faint sound of children’s laughter echoing from the hallways.

Then Julian tipped her chin up and kissed her. His lips pressed against hers with a kind of certainty that seemed to be both reassuring and familiar at the same time.

When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers. “You have given me everything, Amelia. Not only love, but truth. My life began the moment you stepped into Everleigh.”

Amelia let out a trembling laugh. “You once accused me of stealing from you.”

“And now you have stolen my heart.” His eyes glinted with mischief, though his voice was fully edged with utter sincerity

She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. “Then I shall keep it forever.”

A knock sounded at the door and Amelia stepped back, adjusting her hair as Julian called for the person to enter. Mary stepped inside, holding a folded blanket over one arm.

“My lady,” she said, dipping her head with a smile, “Edward would not sleep without his toy horse, so I have just settled him again.”

Amelia smiled at the mention of her son. “You are too good to him, Mary. He will never learn to sleep on his own.”

Mary laughed lightly. “Then he will be like his father, who cannot rest unless everything in the house is in order.”

Julian gave a small shake of his head, but there was warmth in his gaze. “You spoil us all, Mary.”

Amelia stepped closer to her old friend. “I do not know how I could have managed without you. Nurse, companion, and dearest friend. You deserve every bit of the respect you are given in this house.”

Mary flushed and looked down at her hands. “I only ever wished to do right by you, my lady. That is all.”

Julian nodded gently. “And you have. More than you know.”

After she left, Amelia lingered in the study with Julian, her hand entwined with his. Their lives had grown into something she had never dared imagine.

Amelia thought of the girl she once had been… alone, uncertain, hidden away in shadows. She looked at Julian and whispered, “We are giving him a home I never had.”

Julian pressed her hand to his lips. “And we shall never lose it.”

Together, they turned back to her father’s design, the candlelight flickering across the lines of invention that would carry both the Montrose and Everleigh names into the future.

THE END