Chapter 41 Nora #2
‘Easy.’ He takes my hand. ‘I’ve provided the vision.
They can get someone else to execute. I’ll help oversee the reconfiguration, of course, if they want.
But I’ve appealed to my brother’s greed on another front.
I had a chat with Evelyn last week—you know, that mysterious coffee we had—and they definitely need investment.
She’s itching to expand. At the very least, they should be doubling the amount of rooms they have.
‘Anyway, it’s very early days, but she’s open to having a strategic partner who provides a nice big chunk of cash, and Miles is champing at the bit to get a slice of their pie. So, if we can free up the money, we can make it work.’
‘And he’d let you run that side of things? Just like that?’
He laughs. ‘Much as he’d love to get his hands on it, he’s got the entire group to run.
Sorrel Farm’s its own beast, its own opportunity.
It needs someone dedicated to it. And let’s just say I got him at a good time.
He’s a sentimental mess this week. I pitched it to him as part of my plan for you and I.
I told him about this place, and your job offer.
If you say the word, we’ve got ourselves a nice little future down here, with some juicy projects to sink our teeth into. ’
I stare at him as he leads us along the driveway. ‘You have been a busy guy. I can’t believe this. But you’re a Londoner. You sure you want to ditch your social life so soon?’
He squeezes my hand. ‘We can keep the flat, if we want.’
‘Seriously? Won’t you have to sell it to afford this place? Because I’m telling you now, my savings won’t touch the sides here.’
He stops. ‘Sweetheart. Hey. It’s all sorted. I own the flat outright, and I’m buying this place outright, too. Okay?’
My eyes fill with tears. I can’t believe this guy.
‘Hey.’ He swipes a thumb under my eye. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Belle. I can’t bear seeing those big eyes filled with tears.’
‘They’re happy tears,’ I mumble.
‘Good. Well, maybe we can use some of your savings as the dog fund. I haven’t got that part of the plan quite sorted yet.’
I sniffle. ‘Golden labs?’
‘Yeah. Maybe a dachshund, too. I’ve got very attached to Olive.’
As I gaze at the guy with the kindest heart I know, he stoops and picks me up so my legs are draped over his arm.
‘Come on, missus. Let me carry you over the threshold.’
This is definitely not a fixer-upper. It’s utterly perfect. The hall is large and square and flooded with sunlight, with huge rococo mirrors on facing walls and a round table bearing an enormous flower arrangement in the centre of its elegant black and white tiled floor.
Theo leads me through a vista of interconnected rooms. An airy drawing room with those enviably long windows looking out over the drive.
Another, less formal living room whose French doors provide a glimpse of the verdant gardens that must lie behind that ancient wall.
And then a huge kitchen, featuring the AGA of my dreams: glossy navy blue with brass hardware.
‘Apparently, there was a separate dining room, but the current owners knocked it all through.’ Theo gestures over to the far end of the open-plan room where a massive wooden table stands, anchored with low-hanging pendant lights and surrounded by three walls of glass doors.
‘It’s far better this way. I wonder if they’ll sell us some of the furniture.’ I can’t believe how quickly I’m assimilating into this new future.
‘Already asked,’ Theo says. ‘And yeah, they’re open to offers. Can’t imagine they’d want to lug that table with them.’ We wander over and he slaps a hand on its robust surface. There’s a wicked gleam in his eye when he turns to me. ‘I reckon this is pretty sex-proof.’
‘I’m sure you’ll sex-proof the whole house,’ I tell him, but the visual hits me between the legs.
Jesus Christ.
I’m going to live here.
With Theo.
And probably get naked with him on every surface in the house (and garden).
How is this my life?
The upstairs is just as impressive as the downstairs.
Half of the first floor is taken up with a massive master suite with plenty of space for sofas and armchairs, a double dressing room and huge bathroom.
Double walk-in shower? Check. Roll-top bath overlooking the lush gardens?
Check. And there’s an attic with further bedrooms and bathrooms. Plenty of room for visitors, and weekend parties, and…
I swallow.
‘This is definitely a family home,’ I say tentatively.
Theo’s smile is brighter than ever. He pulls me in towards him. ‘It is. Someday. If and when you’re ready.’
Baby Theos, waddling around. Gazing up at me with huge, puppy-dog eyes. I can’t even.
‘Let’s see if we can keep the dogs alive first,’ I tell him.
But it’s the gardens that are the real triumph: mature and manicured and beautifully maintained.
The kitchen opens onto a vast, semi-circular terrace whose stone steps lead down to lawns dotted with gnarly fruit trees.
Over to one side, behind an old wall, is the pool, and what I suppose is the hard-wired maternal part of my brain thanks the Lord that it’s closed off.
But what a pool. This section, our own little walled garden, is big enough for a large pool, a flag-stoned area with chunky loungers, and a charming cabana with a long sofa piled with cushions. A sofa I could flop on for hours with a book and never want to leave.
‘Definitely buying the garden furniture, too,’ Theo mutters.
He leads me over to the cabana and collapses on the sofa, tugging me down next to him. Nuzzles my ear.
‘What do you think?’ he whispers. ‘I know it’s a bombshell, and I suspect you don’t like being blindsided, baby.
But I wanted to show you how serious I am about building a life with you that’s everything you’ve ever dreamed—not just the house, but the security I know you’ve never had.
And also, of course, selling you on the fact that I’m the man for the job. Not Holmes, not anyone else.’
He’s right. Usually, I hate surprises. And the thought of someone else deciding my future for me should, in theory, leave me cold.
But everything this man has done is to show me it’s okay for me to love him.
It’s safe.
I can love him, and be happy with him, and he’ll take care of me.
He’ll always have my desires in front of mind.
My dreams. And holy hell, has he delivered.
He’s bought us a house so far beyond what I dreamed of that I’m reeling.
He’s peered into the most romantic, idealistic recesses of my mind and conjured up a magical future for us.
And the prospect he’s painted is almost too much.
Because he’s telling me I don’t have to choose. Between the danger, the excitement, that I’ve grown to love about him, and my deep-rooted need for a future that’s as stable as my past was unstable.
He’s asking me to trust that he’s the man to provide it all. That he wants to be that man.
‘Look at me, Theo.’ I slide my hand around his neck, my thumb dragging over the short hairs of that beard I adore so much. ‘I love you. Even without all this, no one else can make me happy but you. And with all this?’ I raise my eyebrows at him. ‘It’s going to be a hell of a ride.’