Completely insignificant but totally amazing and seriously sweet epilogue! (For the main part as there will be more…) Come on, I really needed to include Violet!
Dinner went well. Well enough, anyway. The cases had been delivered to his hire car by someone who worked at the manor and Tom was glad to be leaving, to put it lightly. Eternally thankful for the early escape, with his now betrothed, would be better.
They walked apart, close but not touching, away from the house to where he'd parked the pick-up a few days ago. Then, when the sensation that someone might turn from their relatively mundane conversation to watch them leave suddenly leaked into her brain, she grabbed his arm from behind and placed it around her own waist, letting her hand linger only a second longer than necessary but the motion symbolised so much. He smiled and looked down into the eyes that were already searching his, "That is one seriously elaborate fib."
"Who says it is?"
Her grandmother, Violet Crawley, would always have the last word. She turned to just miss this romantic moment but noted aloud, "What on Earth is the boy wearing? And just when I thought we'd finally found one with a good sense of style!"