Epilogue.

The following year:

Georgie leant over the crib, "she's pretty amazing, your mother," he whispered to the wide-eyed baby waving her little fists about and blowing bubbles. "Never forget that, your parents are strong and clever and love you very much. They'll always have your back, you'll never want for anything, and they will show you the way to be the best you can be."

"Georgie," Phryne came silently behind him, "I hope you aren't giving Psyche ideas."

"She's lovely, sis," he put his arm round her, "and you never told any of us."

"It was our secret until it wasn't. I had a bad experience, long ago in France, I needed to be sure and then to get through it," she smiled down at her daughter, "if it had been anyone else but Jack she wouldn't have happened, he adores her ..."

"... and her mother," the subject snuck in just as quietly, "they're both incredible."

"Congratulations, Jack," Georgie shook his hand.

"Thank you. You managed to persuade your mother to let you come back, then?"

"Took some doing, especially after this one was born, but Allie's here too, we were escorted by his mother. They're at the Windsor, though Phryne has invited them here and Aunt Prudence has invited them to stay with her," he nodded.

"Well it's good to see you, and well done for keeping out of trouble." Jack patted his shoulder.

"If Alistair and his mother stay with Aunt P you can catch up with Major Elliot, he's courting her," Phryne whispered, "but don't say anything."

"Really," Georgie's eyes widened, "gosh!"

"Quite."

"Oh, by the way, Mrs Ballantyne has a bottle of fine malt for Dr Macmillan, it's one she doesn't think she's tried, a lowland, apparently," he looked puzzled.

"I think they got into discussion at the wedding party about which ones were best. Mac has Scottish heritage," Phryne smiled, Mac had confided she and Morag corresponded rather frequently. "How about I invite the Ballantynes to dinner and I'll ask Mac to come along as well."

"Super."

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Phryne was right about Mac and Morag Ballantyne but all she was going to do was be there if it went south, with the geographical distance between them.

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I am going to stop there, before I ramble on incoherently, though some may say I already have. You, dear reader, can make your own minds up as to how little Psyche Fisher-Robinson grows up and whether or not Georgie sticks to the straight and narrow, though he may appear on other fics. Oh, and Aunt P and Major Elliot? Your guess is as good as mine.