Author's Note:

Well, I've decided against a sequel for this story, there is just no way I could make it work. But I have decided to provide you with this.

Many thanks to all that reviewed!


" You were rather brazen Mother, worthy of several names I will not call you."

I laugh as my daughter straightens the aged papers and ties them with their faded blue ribbon. She takes a seat next to her husband, a careful hand on her swelling belly.

" Brazen?" I inquire, pretending to be curious. " May I ask why?"

" Married to one man, and involved intimately with another."

" May I remind you, Mary, that if it were not for those intimations you would not be present." I smiled at my daughter.

" And me as well, I suppose." John asks from beside me.

" Aye, you as well Lord Denoncourt." I pat my son's knee and sigh. How I wish Guy were here at this moment as I enlightened my children about my past. " It's a shame you never knew your Papa."

John's eyes, a mirror image of mine, cloud with sorrow. " I know, but Apollo has never accepted a rider but you mother."

" And I never rode him again. I couldn't, yet no one else would buy him. It was as if he could not stand the touch of any other human but me." I shake my head slightly at the memory. It's as if I can still see Guy's broken body lying on the ground.

"Did you never see Henry Burton again?" Charles, Mary husband, asked trying to lighten the mood.

" I saw him once, about a year after I had Mary. In Calais. He did not recognize me, and naturally Guy and I did not acknowledge him. He hand another woman on his arm, perhaps his wife, perhaps his mistress. Yet he seemed happy enough."

" You have broken quite a few hearts in your time, Mother." John teased

" But I have had mine broken many more times than I have done the breaking." Again, I sigh deeply. I had wondered about this day, when I would give my children the papers that held the story of my life. I knew it would not be easy, but I had not been prepared for the flood of memories that came with it.

" Mother?" Mary asked, as I now had a few tears dripping down my face. I wiped them away quickly.

" I'm surprised no one had brought up the fact that I'm a murderess." John gave a short laugh at my comment.

" I confess, I did wonder how you got out of that one." Charles replied.

" We just left. We didn't collect anything except for Marie and our purses. I left every possession with every memory behind. No can ever truly know what happened to Logan. But I suppose our immediate absence was suspicious." I explained. The subject of Logan's murder never seems to affect me much, surprisingly. I had to do it, and that is all there is too it.

" Then we came to France, got married and had Mary. Shortly after that Marie married and went to England. Then just before I had John, Apollo threw Guy, and you all know the rest. You were there too."

We settled into a comfortable silence, into a comfortable life. I had my children, and nothing else mattered.