Postscript
And so, dear reader, we have come to the end of the events that made my formerly quiet life of music and markswomanship a source of such broad and public interest. I have endeavoured to make as thorough an explication as I am capable, and where my own faltering memory may have offered up lapses, errors of fact, or clumsily missed nuance, please do accept my humblest apologies. Any fault on that front is solely my own, as I could not have asked for more able support from the editorial team at the Weekly Post, particularly the justifiably renowned Mme. LeClerc, whose insights into the language and gift for finding precisely the right turn of phrase are simply without parallel.
During the course of the serialisation of this tale, I received many lovely letters of encouragement, numerous queries about speaking and musical engagements, and, finally, several specific requests for clarification from readers like yourself, especially as pertains to several matters left unresolved in the telling. I desire such closure myself in my own reading, and find it most vexing when I find such loose ends left maddeningly dangling by the author. They tease at my mind in a most irritating manner, and so, to the following fivefold requests, I am delighted to offer some succour from that frustration.
Clarification the First, posed by so many of you that I regret I cannot acknowledge each by name, had to do with the condition and well-being of my three dear servants: Amanda, so cruelly wounded in the fall of the Town Carriage; Bertrand, cast in fragments when Caddigan dealt a mortal blow in the aforementioned fall, and; Ernest, who by my side proved himself so utterly indispensable, and who (or so my writing implied) fell before the weapon of a Caddiganite armoured trooper. Amanda and Ernest have returned to House Montgomery following an extensive process of repair and restoration by the Royal Society, and I remain utterly convinced that no Lady of the Peerage has their equal in their service. Bertrand, I regret to say, was so critically damaged that only a small portion of his remains were recovered; we fear that several of his mechanisms may yet be in the hands of our adversaries.
Clarification the Second, also presented by a large number of esteemed readers, regarded my continuing relationship with Sir Diego Cruz Campo, particularly following his recent knighting for services rendered to the Crown. I consider him a trusted friend, and we have regular communication, most recently when I took the plight of the survivors from his anarchist settlement before the Ladies Aid Society. Diego himself was an invited guest of the Society, and gave his own idiosyncratic recounting of their particular and pressing needs; the resultant minutes of that meeting were perhaps the most significantly edited in recent memory.
Clarification the Third, requested in no less than four separate letters submitted by Lady M. Jenkins of Asheville, similarly asked after Diego, but here rather more pointedly enquired about any lingering connection between Sir Diego and my headstrong sister Suzanna; there were, in my recounting, several instances that stirred speculation about some lingering interest between them. I, too, am curious as to the precise nature of their ongoing correspondences, but neither Diego nor Suzanna seem eager to provide any but the most general details on the nature of their ongoing relationship. I am, in the interests of lingering peace in House Montgomery, not particularly inclined to pry. Lady Jenkins, please do desist in pursuing this matter further.
Clarification the Fourth, requested by Hyeonbuin Kim of Gyeonggi, pertained to my efforts at the mastery of Lizst’s maddening Etude. To her quite particular question, no, I would not describe the results of my efforts as anything close to mastery; to an untrained ear, perhaps, it might seem that I am capable of a competent rendition, but I fear that remains rather far from the case. I have of late been taking refuge in the far less taxing works of Satie, whose subtle, ethereal tonalities are proving a comfort following the rather wearying nature of my recent trials. I have, it seems, rather less of an appetite for the dramatic than once I did, for reasons that should be apparent to any discerning reader.
Finally, clarification the Fifth, again requested by more readers than I can recount: No, I have not yet publicly announced the date for my nuptials with Stewart, but I can assure you that it shall not be long in coming. Should this be a matter of lingering interest, please do trust that it shall be duly published in the society pages of the Weekly Post.
If you have a further query, one left unanswered here, I should be delighted to receive your correspondence and shall reply to the very best of my ability. Please direct your footman to deliver your request, in writing only, please, to the following address:
Montgomery House
Attn: Lady in Waiting Jane 9.35
2 Fleet Street
Port Baltimore Redoubt
39.0515036,-77.2290168
And now, dear reader, I must bid you a demain. I hope that you have found this tale to your satisfaction, and as your humble narrator, you have my undying gratitude for your diligent attentions and your sustained interest.
I have the honour to remain, dearest reader, your most humble and devoted servant,
The Lady Rebecca Wexton-Hughes, Countess of Montgomery
God save the Queen!
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