Epilogue

The months passed quickly, and the new residence was built in complete secrecy. The families and individuals who had come from around the Continent and Mediterranean settled in to their new home quietly, adjusting well to this transition. They were beginning to take on a community-aspect, a coherence and appreciation for each other. Life went on as it had, with Alphaios largely forgotten, as he had posed no essential risk to anyone and not made any attempt at retaliation.

Cyrus shot up in bed. A person…no, two people, had left the grounds. He leapt out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown, walking rapidly, but silently, through the halls in search of any human residue that was fresh. He felt along the stairway railings and as he came across Carlotta’s and Nightingale’s warm handprints, tensed as his stomach clutched. Not alerting anyone for fear of being guilty of false presumption, he trotted downstairs, slipped into some shoes and went out to the barn in time to notice the missing horses and a light dust rising in the distance.

Damn, he thought.

“Gone?” asked Alexius. “With two of my horses?”

Cyrus nodded.

“Good Lord,” sighed Percy. No one had seen this coming, but it made some sense.

“He never did fit in,” Edmund pointed out. “Carlotta was susceptible to his whims, and given his aloofness and their closeness, it’s hardly surprising that they eloped.”

“In hindsight,” said Percy. Cyrus nodded emphatically. No one could have been absolutely certain that either would leave without a word.

“Should we not send out a search party?” asked Nathaniel. “Or shall we assume that they will return of their own accord?”

Alexius did not speak first. It was not his decision. Nightingale could do as he liked. Carlotta was another matter. There was no family outside of Father Falzonni and Cyrus, and given the latter was the only one present, Alexius felt obliged to defer to his judgment.

“It will be bloody hard to find them,” he did say, though; he directed the comment particularly at Cyrus. “By now, who knows what direction they’ve gone in.” Cyrus slumped very slightly: Alexius was telling him to give up, right then and there. Perhaps there was an element of intelligence to Alexius’ train of thought – that didn’t make it acceptable.

There was an uneasy quiet. No one wanted to say outright, “Don’t look for them,” but everyone was thinking it. The one factor holding them back was Carlotta, and Cyrus’ close attachment to her.

“Perhaps we should give them a chance to return of their own accord,” Edmund suggested slowly.

“That would be wise, I think,” agreed Nathaniel. Percy twitched while Cyrus frowned. To give up so easily.

“Why?” asked Percy. “What if it were Gabriel who were eloping?”

“I would think he would return eventually,” said Alexius, “but more importantly that he would not be so foolish as to run away in the first place. If Nightingale and Carlotta felt that they had to leave to follow whatever course they want, then so be it.”

“Without asking permission?” retorted Percy, voicing Cyrus’ own thoughts. “Nightingale cannot be that inconsiderate, nor Carlotta that unkind and unaware of the social repercussions.”

“Social repercussions?” Edmund snorted. “They can easily make up any story they like and avoid those.” Society would not worry about a fairly well-off merchant and a pretty young Italian woman as his wife. They could disappear into London’s East End and be no the worse for wear. After a few years, Carlotta could even pass for a decent Englishwoman.

Outraged, Cyrus left the room. He had been sworn to protect her, in actions if not words. Alexius understood that, but he knew Cyrus would get over the anger shortly when he thought it out. Carlotta, if she as good as her outward behavior gave her to be, might in the end convince Nightingale to return.

“Well, what have you to say for yourself, Alexius?” asked Percy.

“Nothing that these other gentlemen would not agree with,” Alexius replied. “Honestly, Percy, you know I’m right. Nightingale is no fool – he did not wish to stay here any longer than necessary, and his sway over Carlotta is so great as to persuade her to go with him.”

“Indeed, Captain,” agreed Edmund. “One need only see them together. You are acquainted with Nightingale’s restlessness. He’s hardly agreed with anything we’ve decided, even bringing people here from across Europe and the Mediterranean.” Percy scowled; he could not rebuke them, but wanted to. He felt keenly that his position amongst them had continuously declined over the months, which did not endear him to Edmund or Nathaniel and made him disdain Alexius. That hurt. Yet there was nothing he could do on his own, he knew.

“Gentlemen, would you excuse Captain Percy and I?” asked Alexius. Edmund rose, hefting Nathaniel up. He knew Percy was dissatisfied, but wouldn’t argue at the moment.

“Eldred, what’s the matter?” Alexius spoke. “You never liked Nightingale. Why are you defending him?”

“Who said I was defending him? Frederick, the man ran off with a young woman in Cyrus’ protection!”

“And where are the documents proving that?” Alexius argued; he firmly put the matter at rest with that. “We cannot exert legal authority over either of them, no matter how much we might like to.”

“That is taking the easy path.” Percy rose stiffly.

“Eldred!” Alexius was exasperated. He hated leaving a friend dissatisfied. If only Percy could see things his way. “Eldred, at least we may safely hope that they will enter the marriage state.”

Percy turned a deep shade of red.

“Eldred, I didn’t mean to imply – ” Alexius hurriedly spoke, realizing what he had indirectly said to Percy.

“Then what did you mean?” Percy asked quietly.

“Nothing,” sighed Alexius, rubbing his nose. “Just forget it.” He was trying to run an estate and a large group of people almost single-handedly, and while the original group of people helped him quite a bit, Percy still proved to be resistant, almost as much as Nightingale.

“Well….” Percy shifted. “Alright, let’s just leave it. I don’t imagine Carlotta would want to be brought back forcefully in any case.”

“No,” agreed Alexius. “She wouldn’t.”

The two elopers were never heard from again.

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