Chapter Twenty-Five A Sweet Beginning
Lydia
I stood near the edge of the ballroom, watching it all settle, feeling something unfamiliar loosen within me with the knowledge that I was no longer braced for the impact of something going terribly wrong.
Instead, something had gone very right, I thought with a smile to myself.
Ephram was a few steps away, speaking quietly with Carly and one of the officers. His posture was relaxed now that the case no longer demanded every ounce of control.
He glanced over once, caught my eye, and smiled. Not the careful smile he had worn earlier. Just Ephram, warm and uncomplicated, the guy who liked me and wanted to see more of me.
I smiled back before I could overthink it.
Behind me, Kitty exhaled loudly. “I would like it noted for the record that I survived the gala without throwing anything at Collin.”
Jane laughed. “The night is young.”
Mom approached, her hands clasped together as if she was holding herself in one piece by will alone. Her eyes were bright. Too bright.
“Oh,” she said, and then stopped, clearly searching for the right words. “Oh, it has been such a lovely night.”
“Mostly,” Kitty mumbled.
“It has been nice,” Jane agreed, elbowing Kitty.
She pulled me into a hug, firm and fierce before grabbing Jane and Kitty. “I don’t think Christmas can get much better than this.”
Dad joined us, one arm wrapping around Mom, his presence grounding as always. “I hope everyone had a good evening.”
I would wait until we were home to tell them what had happened and that finally Gavin Wickham would have to face the consequences of his choices.
But inside, I did a happy dance.
Across the room, Collin cleared his throat.
It was a loud, deliberate sound, the kind meant to draw attention whether it deserved it or not.
He stood near the center of the ballroom, jacket perfectly arranged, posture straight, expression earnest in a way that suggested he believed himself to be the most reasonable man present.
He held a bouquet of flowers. Where he had found them, I had no idea, but in his other hand was a small velvet box that glinted ominously under the lights.
Kitty made a strangled noise beside me. “No. Absolutely not.”
Collin raised his voice. “If I may?”
Conversations faltered. Heads turned to see the spectacle in the making.
“I have given much thought to this evening,” Collin announced, gesturing broadly as if the gala itself had been arranged for this moment. “And to the matter of partnership, family, and legacy.”
Meri, who had been calmly sipping her drink a few steps away, froze.
Kitty grabbed my arm. “Why is he looking at Meri?”
“Oh no,” Jane whispered. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
“Oh dear,” Mom chimed in. “Perhaps you girls should grab Meri. She won’t constrain herself and we are in public.”
“I don’t believe she should constrain her response,” Dad dryly commented.
Collin smiled benevolently at Meri. “Miss Meri Bennet. It has become clear to me that I may have… misjudged my initial approach.”
Meri blinked once. “Excuse me?”
“Kitty,” Collin continued, nodding vaguely in her direction, “is spirited. Too spirited, perhaps.
“And Lydia,” he waved a hand in my direction like I was a previously rejected résumé. “She has made her position abundantly clear.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something rude. I went to Meri’s side, grabbing her arm. “I really think we should go.”
“Meri,” he said warmly, stepping closer. “You, however, are sensible, practical, and logical. You understand the value of stability.”
Meri stared at him like he had begun speaking another language.
Collin dropped to one knee.
The room went utterly silent.
Kitty gasped. Jane covered her mouth. Mom made a sound that might have been prayer.
“Meri Bennet,” Collin declared, opening the velvet box to reveal a ring almost as ugly as his haircut. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, thereby ensuring the Snowdrop Inn remains in capable hands and our families properly aligned?”
I felt the universe tilt slightly on its axis.
Meri looked down at him. Then she looked at the ring. Then she looked around the room, taking in the stunned faces, the expectant silence, the sheer absurdity of it all.
Finally, she spoke.
“No.”
The word was delivered in a calm and absolute tone.
Collin frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“No,” Meri repeated, louder this time. “I won’t marry you. I don’t really wish to marry anyone. I’m perfectly content being single. Plus, really Collin? You are way too old for me, have a bad haircut, and just can’t take rejection. The answer is no.”
A ripple of laughter broke through the crowd, quick and startled.
Collin rose slowly, clearly convinced there had been a misunderstanding. “Perhaps you are overwhelmed.”
“No,” Meri said evenly. “I am saying no”
His expression shifted to something injured. “You would turn down such an opportunity?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Without hesitation.”
Kitty let out a triumphant whoop before clapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Reflex.”
Meri folded her arms, unbothered by the attention now swirling around her. “I wish you well, Collin. But please don’t ever mistake my courtesy for interest again.”
The silence broke fully then, laughter and murmurs spreading through the room. Collin stood there, cheeks flushed, dignity wobbling under the weight of reality.
“This family is utterly ungrateful,” he muttered, shaking his head.
He snapped the box shut, tucked the flowers under his arm, and stalked toward the exit with all the drama of a man convinced he had been wronged by history itself.
As the doors closed behind him, the Bennets collectively exhaled.
Jane laughed, a bright, relieved sound. Kitty pumped her fist. Mom wiped at her eyes, smiling through it.
Meri lifted her glass. “Well, that was unpleasant.”
I laughed then, fully and freely, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and unguarded.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt certain that whatever came next, we would meet it standing together.
The laughter was still echoing when Meri set her glass down with a deliberate movement that somehow cut through the noise better than any announcement could have.
“There’s one more thing,” she announced to us. We all turned toward her again, the aftershocks of Collin’s departure still buzzing through us. Kitty looked delighted. Jane looked curious. Mom’s smile faltered slightly, as if she sensed the shape of something serious beneath the humor.
Meri reached into her clutch and pulled out a slim envelope.
“I was going to wait until we were home,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But since we’re already having a night of revelations, it feels appropriate.”
She handed the envelope to Mom.
Mom took it slowly, brow furrowing as she opened it. Her breath caught audibly and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
Dad leaned in. His shoulders stiffened. “Meri, what is this?”
“A bank draft,” Meri replied. “The remaining balance on the loan you owe to Collin.”
The room seemed to tilt again, though this time in an entirely different direction.
Jane blinked. “You mean…”
“All you need to do is deposit it, and pay him back in full,” Meri replied.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Mom sank into the nearest chair like her knees had simply stopped obeying her.
“You can’t,” she whispered. “Meri, you can’t have—”
“I can,” Meri said gently. “And I did.”
Dad stared at the paper like it might rearrange itself into something else if he looked long enough. “How? How on earth do you have this much money?”
Meri shrugged, the gesture almost apologetic. “Years of saving. Living cheaply. Saying no to things. I really don’t buy much.”
Jane’s eyes filled instantly and she pulled a handkerchief out of her clutch, dabbing at her eyes. “You never said anything.”
“I didn’t want it to be a conversation,” Meri said. “I wanted it to be done.”
Mom stood abruptly and crossed the space between them, pulling Meri into a fierce hug. “I can’t believe this. You didn’t need to do this.”
Meri hugged her back just as tightly. “I did. I couldn’t let Collin keep dragging that loan over our heads. This is good for all of us.”
“We will pay you back,” Dad vowed.
“No you won’t. If you sell, then you can pay me, but as long as the inn is in the family, I don’t want to see a single dollar,” Meri fiercely replied before giving him a hug.
I felt tears sting my eyes before I could stop them. Relief crashed through me in a wave so strong I had to steady myself against the table.
The inn was safe.
The celebration that followed was less elegant than the gala had intended, but infinitely warmer. We hugged as our voices overlapped with happiness. Braxton produced champagne. Kitty nearly knocked over a centerpiece.
Ephram drifted closer during the chaos, and was handed a glass without ceremony by Dad , who clapped him on the shoulder like he had always been part of this family and was just late to dinner.
Ephram glanced at me then, something unspoken passing between us, and I knew he understood me.
Once the joy had settled down a little, I managed to get Ephram away from the group for a dance, followed by a private conversation near the windows, the crowd softened by distance and music. The snow fell steadily outside, the kind that made the world feel quiet.
“I like your family,” he said.
I smiled. “They’re loud.”
“They’re honest and welcoming,” he replied.
I considered that, then nodded. “We are that.”
We stood there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, not touching but close enough that the space felt intentional rather than accidental.
“I meant what I said earlier,” Ephram added. “About wanting to see you.”
“I know,” I said. “And I meant it when I said yes.”
His smile was slow and genuine, the kind that settled rather than flared. He reached for my hand then, tentative in a way that made my chest ache pleasantly, and when our fingers laced together it felt less like a beginning and more like a recognition.
The music swelled behind us again, laughter rolling through the room as the Bennets reclaimed the night on their own terms. I watched my sisters, my parents, my chosen people, and felt something settle deep and sure inside me.
I had learned how to say no.
I had learned how to stand still when someone tried to move me without my consent.
And I had learned that love, real love ,did not arrive as a grand gesture meant to secure my future. It arrived quietly, when the danger was gone, when the truth was clear, and when both people chose to step forward and choose each other.
I smiled, looking up and realized that there was a kissing ball of mistletoe suspended above us where we had been talking this entire time.
Ephram’s gaze followed mine before returning back to me. I found myself smiling and reaching up to touch his cheek as he leaned down, giving me a gentle kiss, just a whisper of lips against lips before we both drew back, smiling.