Serenity

Epilogue

Dearest Rose,

No thanks were necessary for helping you to realise truly what you wished for in your life. It is wonderful to hear that you have found happiness with a man who is not your husband. I shall take no payment for the ruined wedding trousseau. Your mother visited me some time ago and paid the debts reluctantly. Your presence in this city is sorely missed; it was a scandal after your disappearance with the mysterious lover. However, since I have read your sister's novel, it all makes perfect sense.

Enjoy your life whilst you are young and passionate with a man who is just as mad as you are. Those are the best days you will recall as an old woman in an armchair.

I do not wish to speak much of the Hockleys, but I hear they settled in New York. Your mother, let us just say, is now working as a seamstress. She has a lot to learn, but I am a good tutor.

Yours,

Madame Laurant.

Jack stared after the blonde woman on the stage. She was brilliant, indeed. He came here, week after week, watching her succumb to the charms of another man on stage, and yet, still, he could not be more proud.

Serenity; the play.

It was published almost ten years ago, and yet, the love story continues to captivate audiences on stage worldwide.

It had stopped during the war, of course, but he had received letters of how they had put on plays for the children. Oliver and Betty were born within ten months of each other, and by the time war started raging in Europe and America joined in 1917, Rose was expecting their third child, Amelia. She had been with Elizabeth as the child came into the world.

It was hard, strange even, being a young father, being away for much of their young lives, but now, as they turned ten, nine and seven, he was more than doting, his heart filled with the warmth of fatherly love.

After leaving Philadelphia in the Summer of 1912, they went to Santa Monica. After keeping Elizabeth close for far too long, Rose finally allowed her to go to New York, where she perfected the manuscript and published it. Many brilliant novels followed. A woman having such a fascinating career was almost unheard of.

Mr. Hockley had disappeared from the walls of society once his father died some mere months after they had left, and word had it that Madame Laurant had taken on Ruth to work as a seamstress for some time, or so she had said in those early letters before they dwindled off after the War. Perhaps Madame Laurent had suffered a loss; maybe she had gone to France to be with her sons. It was all simply a possibly...

The woman on the stage was not yet thirty and blossomed like a brilliant star. This would be her last performance for some time, though, so he relished her look whilst he could, a bittersweet anticipation in his heart.

''You know, I was still quite upset about her condition before we went to New York; you are only forgiven because she is my sister.''

''I am glad you found it in your heart to forgive me.''

''You better give me another nephew. This family is quite littered with girls.''

''Perhaps you had better have children of your own before you start dictating mine.''

Elizabeth smiled fondly. ''Hmm, that I might.''

''You mean you may finally marry Harry.''

''Yes, a four-year courtship and a ten-year career maybe just enough for me to settle, just for long enough to have one child.''

Jack laughed, glancing back up to Rose on the stage. Another son came mere months later, and a niece followed soon after. 

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Thank you so much for reading and staying with me as it took a year and half to post! It means a lot.