A Lady’s Unlikely Suitor – Extended Epilogue

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Of course, they could not stay in France forever. Lady Temple went home shortly after their youngest was born. The following year, Dorian and Lenora packed up their belongings to return to London to celebrate August and Emma’s anniversary, and to visit with Lenora’s sisters. 

For this trip, they had not only their oldest son’s nanny, but also her younger sister and her baby, as well as their own little girl and their son. With four children in the nursery, it was a good thing the sisters did an excellent job managing it. 

The anniversary celebration was a gala affair. There was a grand picnic in Hyde Park, with pulled meat sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, and too many sweet biscuits and muffins to enumerate. The punch was squeezed from fruits picked from the trees in the orchard where Lenora and Dorian used to play. The fruit had been carted in the week before and crushed just before the picnic. 

Lenora savored the delightful combination of apple and peach, with just a trace of berry juice to give the punch and added bit of tartness.

In the afternoon, a play was put on for the family and friends. It was supposed to be something from one of Lady Temple’s proteges.

But at the last minute, something went wrong and a different playwright filled in the entertainment gap.

When Dorian saw the billing on the marquis, he gasped, then ground his teeth. It was none other than Charles Hooper.

“Oh, no!” Lenora clutched at his arm. “Not this again.”

Lady Temple said, “We managed through the first showing, we can do so again.”

They settled themselves on a blanket with plates of food and cups of the punch. 

The play began much as it had so long ago. But as it progressed, things went differently from its debut. The musicians were of lesser quality, and were not so well rehearsed. The actors were leaner, and dressed more shabbily, even when they were supposed to be in elegant finery. Instead of laughing at what should have been funny bits of humor, the audience frequently booed or hissed. 

Slowly, the audience began to leave. By intermission, more than half of them had moved away to go play cricket or croquet. By the end of the play, no one seemed to care whether the constables captured the villain, nor whether the leading lady was whisked away by the leading man.

“Well,” Lenora remarked as the troupe began to pack up their gear, “It would seem that stale scandal is just that: stale.”

Dorian laughed. “I’m sorry that was the venue. What a disastrous fill-in! As a former friend, I should feel sorry to see Mr. Hooper brought so low, but I fear I share your feelings.”

Lenora added, “I should be well pleased never to see that play again. It is a dreadful thing, and ought never have been written in the first place.”

“But it was,” Dorian said, as they made their way toward Alderham Manor. “Better that it wear out its welcome with the ton, and then disappear into obscurity. Even so, I am sorry that it should be added to this celebration of anniversaries.”

“So am I,” Lenora agreed.

“And I,” added Lady Temple.

August caught up with them. “I am so sorry,” he said. “A friend of mine found that fellow at the last minute, after the original performer ducked out. I had no idea that Mr. Hooper was the replacement playwright. But I am glad that you could witness how poorly it was received.” 

“You are forgiven, brother mine,” Lenora said. “Although I thought you would know that of all playwrights, this one is the most . . .” She paused searching for words.

“Most unfortunately bald-faced and forward with his gibes,” Dorian supplied. “With all due respect, Lord Temple, I think we shall retire. If we leave now, I think we can make our London townhouse before bedtime.”

“Bedtime?” August raised his eyebrows. “You have talked Lenora into retiring before dawn’s first light?”

Lenora made a face at her brother. “It is clear that you and Emma have not set up your nursery yet. Even with two nannies, our children keep us close to home.”

August laughed. “So that’s how it works. Well, I hope your youngsters are as big a handful as you were.”

Lenora made another face at her brother. 

Dorian just laughed, and put his arm around his wife. “They are both just as adorable as Lenora was. I am sure your youngsters will be placid, well-behaved creatures with the two of you for parents.”

They left August trying to figure out if he had been complimented or insulted.

As they climbed into the carriage, Lenora chided Dorian, “That was naughty of you to tease him so.”

“Just payback for all the times he ran off and left us to amuse ourselves on our own,” Dorian said. “And for foisting that dreadful play on everyone. I suppose it will again be a ninety-day wonder, and we shall scarcely wish to show our faces out of doors.”

“It really was too bad of him,” Lenora said. “But truly, dearest, you should not have implied that his children were unimaginative lumps.”

“I should have hoped that he would have two or three just like you?” Dorian grinned at her.

“Oh, you!” Lenora retorted as they disembarked from the carriage. 

Dorian caught up with her as they entered the foyer. “Lenora, do you enjoy being married to me?”

“Oh, Dorian! Of course I do. We travel as much or as little as we want, we have friends over or not…as we want. And neither of us are pressed into entertaining people we would rather not see.”

Dorian used one finger to tip up her chin so he could lightly brush a kiss across her lips. “I’m glad you are happy, love. I will own, I do not miss hosting Uncle Jonathan’s guests.”

“I remember how it was,” Lenora said. “Now, when we go anywhere, you can spend your time at the pianoforte until your hands are too tired to press the keys anymore.”

“But that is a labor of love,” Dorian said. “Music is the universal language. It speaks to everyone.”

Lenora looked up at him adoringly. 

From inside the house, there arose a wail. “Mama! I want Mama!”

The older nanny came out carrying their son. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He is insisting. If I don’t let him see the two of you, he will cry himself sick.”

Lenora turned, taking the boy from the nurse’s arms. “There’s my big son, my beautiful boy,” she cooed at him. 

The youngster bounced up and down in her arms. Then he planted two sticky kisses on his mother’s face, one on each cheek. He then turned to his father, calling out, “Papa! Papa!” 

Dorian willingly gathered his heir into his arms. “There is my handsome lad,” he said. 

The boy tugged on his father’s beard. “Papa!” he repeated happily.

“I believe so,” Dorian assured his son. “Now, are you ready to go with your nanny and get tucked into bed? We’ll come see you directly.”

Having seen both his parents, the little one willingly went with his nurse. “I’ll go up and see them for a little while,” Lenora said. 

“Very well, my dear,” Dorian said fondly. “I’ll spend some time at the pianoforte, then I will join you.”

Lenora kissed Dorian on the cheek, and followed the nurse up the stairs. 

***

Dorian

Dorian went into his music room and began to play. At first he simply twiddled his way through lullabies, then a popular air or two. Then he started playing something new. 

Inspired, he opened his ink bottle, dipped a pen into it, and began writing notes on a piece of lined foolscap that was kept by the piano for just this purpose. He would write for a few minutes, then pick out more of the melody and accompaniment. 

Finally, he skimmed back through the sheet music, blotted and scratched out in places, as it was. He set it on the music rack, and began playing through it. 

Every now and then, he would make a new notation on the page. Once, he threw away a whole section. But, when he was at last satisfied, he wrote “Theodore” across the title page.

Then he played it through once more before setting it aside.

When he climbed the stair and went into the nursery, he found Theodore was sound asleep in his crib. Lenora was holding their daughter, rocking her gently. The nurses were quietly setting the nursery to rights, putting away toys, folding nappies, and dusting with a damp cloth to keep the air in the nursery fresh and sweet.

“It was beautiful,” Lenora said. 

“It is for our son,” Dorian said. “When she is a little older, I will do one for Rose.”

“Why not now?” Lenora asked gently, ready to defend her daughter.

“She needs to grow a little. By the time she is babbling, I’m sure I’ll have a song for her, too,” Dorian said, going down on one knee beside Lenora and gazing into the tiny girl’s face.

“Just so long as you do not forget,” Lenora said.

“I would never forget anyone so precious,” Dorian assured her. “When I write it, I want it to be perfectly right.

“Very well,” Lenora said, gazing at her husband with adoration showing on her face. She then relinquished the child to her nurse, and the two parents went out of the nursery and down the hall to their own bedroom.

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