Chapter Twenty-Eight
I revel in the deliciously cool air, a perfect excuse to burrow closer to the heat of Orrin’s skin, the windows flung open to let in the chill. It’s been three weeks since I returned to him. Though I’ve gone back to work and the Clover to dance, beyond that we’ve hardly left the bedroom.
“Again?” he cocks one dark eyebrow.
A smirk lifts my mouth. “Are you having trouble keeping up with me?”
He laughs, his throat working, the joyful sound filling my heart. Every moment is like this, fuller and fuller and fuller. It’s a wonder I don’t explode with happiness. With awe.
“No,” I sigh. “I’m so comfortable, I have no desire to leave this bed, but it’s time. My sisters will be here within the hour.”
This morning we are giving Aven a tour of the grounds, to see if she wants to take over the gardens. To see if she has the interest and the energy.
“I’ll call for baths.” I bound out of the bed, feeling renewed energy. I give Orrin a naughty smile and twirl away so he has a full view of my backside.
He lets out a low rasp of approval. “Come back.”
“You’ll muss my hair too much.”
“Get away from the window—do you want to shock the neighbors?” he calls, huskily.
“There are no neighbors.”
“I know.” After a pause, he says, “There could be though…if you like? If you wanted to go somewhere, travel, we could. Make our home anywhere.”
I ask, “Is that what you want?”
“After decades of doing just that, for my part, I must answer you a decided no. But I would go if you wanted.”
“No.” I shake my head. Return to the bed and into his arms. I stretch my tired limbs out, pointed toes and all, the warm sheets decadent against my naked skin. “I love it here. I love The Pins, in my own way. And—”
“Your sisters.” A loving understanding fills his eyes. Though he’s yet to get to know them, and they him, it will happen, and I cannot wait. He nods. “I’m glad you have each other. I didn’t think you’d want to leave them, but I had to be sure. I want you to be content here, with me.”
“I’m more than content. I love this place. I even loved it when it was covered with dust and grime. I love it all the more because it’s where our story began. I love this bed. I love the ballroom. And you know I love you like mad.” I push up to kiss him, leaning over his body.
He threads his fingers into my hair and tugs my head gently back, his lips going to my throat. I sigh contentedly and wriggle my hips.
“I actually didn’t call you back to bed for that,” he muses. “Though you’re making it rather hard to stay the course.”
Another naughty grin. “Am I?”
He groans and sits further upright, carefully adjusting me, so I am cradled in his lap—his very hard lap.
“I have something for you.” He grows serious, and I hold back the wicked thought. Something in his gaze, the deep, loving green of it, has me straighten up, curious.
“A gift?”
“A question, really. I realize it’s very traditional—something neither of us particularly are—but my heart wants it anyway. So…close your eyes a second.” I do, and after a moment he tells me to open them. He places a ring in my open palm. Closes it. Kisses the knuckles. “It’s yours if you want it.”
I unfold my hand and stare at the ring, stunned into silence.
“I know it might seem fast,” he adds softly.
“We’ve only known each other for a few months, but I feel as though you’ve been in my life so much longer, after what we’ve been through.
And, I don’t expect anything quickly. We can wait as long as you need.
I just hope you’ll want to eventually. I hope you’ll be my wife. ”
I admire the pink stone, surrounded by a sunburst of diamonds, the band a shining silver, filigreed. The second the shock fades, I slide it on. Look at him. “That wasn’t actually a question, you know.”
He breaks into a grin. Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I whisper, “But my answer is yes. It’s always yes.”
Later, my sisters will come to the mansion, marvel at how lovely it all is, the fresh paint, the things that have been fixed, though they never saw it as broken as I did.
Joe will let them in, and Mrs. Minthy will serve us refreshments in the sitting room.
They’ll watch Orrin and me with grateful tears in their eyes, watch the miracle that we’ve become.
We will give Aven a tour of the sad gardens, and she will tell us all the ways she will make them bloom again.
How she’ll bring them back to life, save them, just as she was saved.
We will eat, and we will all laugh and hug and dance, tipsy on champagne and whiskey.
The sun will set, and my sisters will retire in the rooms we aired out for them for their overnight stay, and in the morning, we will break our fast all together before they leave me—but only until I meet them at the apothecary later.
It is the three Bells, no matter the name.
No matter the circumstances. It always will be.
But there are still three-quarters of an hour before that begins, and so I curl my fingers into my fiancé’s hair, and I tell him I love him.
He takes me. I take him as well.
We take each other. We break and mend each other.
The birds chatter as the sun rises in the sky, its glow kept company by an orchestra of hidden stars, which, even to my ordinary human ears, seems to sing with joy.