Epilogue
One month later
Gillian stood in the dining room of James’s townhouse, her wedding gown whispering on the carpets as she walked around the long table. The guests would be arriving any minute from the church to attend the breakfast feast, but she had a few precious moments alone to admire the cook’s creations. The table was laden with cakes and other delicacies, and there was an abundance of orange flowers that filed the air with their scent, making the room feel more like a garden. For so long she had been on the other side of this kind of life, the one who must be unseen and unheard, toiling away in the predawn hours and late into the night to make another person’s life better. Now she was the one who would have anything she wished. It was strange rather than comforting to thin
