A kiss that made Violet’s heart turn upside down, too.
It was a good thing she was seated, she thought as he drew away and the swing bobbed upright. She doubted her weakened knees could have supported her.
He gave her a gentle push. “What do you think of the house?”
“I think…” Here came the acting. She wouldn’t dream of ruining the surprises—either his to her now, or hers to him later—by revealing she’d been the one to buy the book. Even though the white lie weighed a bit on her conscience, that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
“I think I’m confused,” she said, thankful he couldn’t see her face. Without her spectacles, the river looked blurry in the distance.
He pushed her again. “Confused about what, my love?”
The endearment filled her with a cautious thrill. “About everything. Why was this place so run down if you could afford to fix it up? Just because you couldn’t be bothered?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. He wasn’t going to try to hide anything from her, and she loved him all the more for it. “I thought I could afford to fix it up, but that turned out not to be true. Until I asked Rand to sell Secrets of the Emerald Tablet for me.” He walked around to face her. “He got ten thousand pounds.”
She gasped. “Ten thousand pounds! Why…that’s as much as my inheritance!”
“I know.” Gripping one rope, he stopped the swing and slid onto it beside her. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I suspect the buyer was Isaac Newton, since he’d pledged to double any other bid, but Rand told me the purchase was made on condition of anonymity.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone knowing I owned such a valuable thing, either.” That much, at least, was the truth. “I expect it would make him a target for robbery.”
“Perhaps.” Raking a hand through his hair, Ford scooted closer, close enough to be in focus. He captured her gaze with his glorious blue eyes. “I hope this will change your mind.”
“Ford, I must apologize—”
“In a matter of months, Lakefield will be earning a tidy profit. And in the meantime, I have more than enough funds to finish the improvements I told you about.” He pushed off with his feet, setting the swing to swaying. “You can marry me now without fear that I’ll spend your inheritance and rob you of your publishing dream.”
Her heart throbbed in her chest. “Is that what you thought? That I valued a philosophy book over you?”
Suddenly she could see where he could have inferred as much, and her shame escalated beyond bearing. Her throat tightened painfully.
“I would never put a book before you,” she choked out. He hadn’t valued a book over her, either. He’d sold his precious alchemy book for her. “Never. It’s just…well, I couldn’t bring myself to believe any man would want me for myself.” She gave a mournful shake of her head, her gaze trained on her lap. “It was my failing, not yours. And I’m so very sorry.”
Tears welled, and one rolled down her cheek.
She wasn’t acting now.
He reached to wipe away the teardrop, his fingers soft and warm on her skin. “Egad, don’t cry. Please. Just say yes.” As the swing slowed to a halt, he pulled in a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Violet?”
This time she didn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored.”
He caught her up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack her ribs. “I love you,” he said. “Have I told you I love you?”
“Most generously.“ She laughed through her tears. “I must catch up.”
His eyes looked anxious. “Please do.”
She graced his lips with the softest, most cherishing kiss she could contrive. “I love you, Ford Chase.” Missing the feel of his warm, tender mouth on hers, she sought it again.
As he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, she sank into a heartfelt embrace that told her she was his—and his alone. She hadn’t known it, but she’d been waiting for this all her life. This love, this trust, this acceptance of her just as she was.
She loved him. Here, now, today, tomorrow, for all time.
“I love you,” she repeated breathlessly when he finally pulled back.
A smile curved his lips as he toyed with the end of her plait. “Before you change your mind, I expect I should ask your father for your hand.”
“Is that why you invited my whole family? Planning ahead?” she teased, reaching to his pocket for her spectacles. “All right, then. Just don’t forget to shout.”
“SIX MONTHS,” Mum said after the congratulations and the hugs and the kisses. “It will take that long to arrange everything and allow people time to make plans to attend.”
“Tomorrow,” Ford countered loudly, evidently remembering Violet’s instruction to shout.
“Tomorrow!” Rose snorted. “That’s preposterous! It’s too late in the day to get a special license in time for tomorrow. And Madame Beaumont cannot make a wedding gown by tomorrow, either.”
Ford turned to Violet. “Tell me you’re not going to London to order a gown.”
She shrugged. She was a newcomer to caring about fashion and knew nothing about planning events. “Three months?”
“One week.”
At that point, her father pulled her mother aside for a whispered conversation. Mum’s feminine laughter trilled over Ford’s neat new garden.
“Two weeks,” she said, “and that’s final.”
SIXTY-SEVEN
TWO WEEKS LATER, in the wee hours of the night before her wedding, Violet found herself wide awake for the last time in her childhood bed.
The house was quiet, but her mind was whirling with anticipation, excitement, and plans. Unable to sleep or read with her thoughts in such disarray, she was absently flipping through the pages of the Master-piece when she noticed something odd.
In one particular section, the pages felt different.
She shut the book. The section looked different, too. Its pages didn’t lie as flat as the rest.
Dragging the candle on her night table nearer, she reopened the
