“London!” Declan kisses her soundly. “That’s wonderful.”
“I meant to tell you that orders are up, Declan,” Matthew says, and he moves over to stand beside them. “We've sold almost all the inventory in the last week.”
“Are you joking?” Declan exclaims, glancing between them.
“No, and this is for you, Lady Sheridan,” Matthew offers her a slip of paper with her name on it. “I opened an account for you with the bank, and you will find your contract is fulfilled. Including the money, I owe you for the shares. I took the liberty of paying back Dr. Elliot Bradley with a bonus, of course, for his kind assistance.”
London steps back, refusing to take the paper. “No.”
“It’s alright,” Declan says softly.
“No,” she glares at them both. “I don’t want to be paid to be your wife!” Declan turns to face her.
“What about my business partner?”
“That’s not funny,” she hisses.
“I’m not joking. London, I need to be able to focus on my craft. I would love to have you at my side, protecting our interests.” She starts to shake her head, but he continues. “This is the legacy that we will leave to our children, London, don’t you want to be a part of that.”
Tears flood her eyes as she looks at the two of them, “Of course, I do, but how will it work?”
“We’ll figure that out together.”
London reaches out to take the slip of paper from Matthew and stares at the numbers. “Thank you,” she presses a kiss to Matthew's cheek.
“Excellent, now, Thanksgiving is two days away. I promised the cook I'd give her a ride into town.” Matthew hurries from the room while Declan stares at London.
“We’ll need every penny to expand the business.” She murmurs and walks away to grab paper and her small black ledger.
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” he grins and grabs the ledgers from his desk and walks over to watch her.
“It’s just a big responsibility,” she writes down the numbers in her black book and sits down at the chair in the corner near the fireplace.
“If nothing else, it will keep you still for a bit.” He walks over and tilts her face up to his, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “I'll go to my shop and leave you to this.”
He drops the ledgers into her lap and walks away with a skip in his step, and she watches him, stunned by his faith in her.
Three hours later, London slips into a coat and walks through the garden, enjoying the maze. She knows her way to his shop and wonders if he will be upset that she is disturbing his work.
Declan wipes the sweat from his brow and slides a rag across the rail of a rocking chair. His mind is designing the intricate scrollwork that he intends to carve in the side of each rail, customizing each piece, giving it the Sheridan stamp. He turns, reaching for his pistol when a shadow passes over the doorway.
“London?” he moves his hand away from the gun in the back of his pants and smiles at her.
“Is everything alright?” she asks.
“Of course, come look!” he holds out a hand, she hurries to his side and stares down at the stained wood. London traces a hand over the satin smooth wood and looks at him.
“It’s lovely,” she bites her lip.
“You have no idea what it is, do you?” He grins and runs a hand through his dark hair, drawing her eyes. She reaches up and runs her hands through it, sending sawdust raining down.
“I missed you,” she steps close to him, sharing his warmth.
“Your distraction tactics won't work on me,” even as he speaks, his hands are circling her waist, pulling her fully against him.
“Truly?” she pouts, causing him to groan and lean down to kiss his bride. London smiles against his mouth, and he flips her around, causing her to gasp. He takes her hand and runs it over the smooth wood.
“It’s a rocking chair rail, feel the curve,” he asks huskily. London laughs softly and leans her head to the side to give him access to her neck.
“I look forward to learning all about your work, husband, but it's time to come home now.” Declan nibbles on her neck and nips, causing her whole body to jerk.
“I could use a bath before dinner,” he sighs and releases her.
London turns and wrinkles her nose, “Yes, you could.”
He lifts an eyebrow, “I remember someone smelling me in the middle of the night,” he teases, she blushes and covers his mouth with her hand.
“Declan!” he laughs and grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm.
“I couldn't resist. Let's go home,” he whispers, the love in his eyes touches her heart.
“Home is wherever you are,” she replies softly. His smiles fades replaced by a hunger for his wife.
“If we hurry, we can get back before Grandfather,” he replies huskily.
London laughs, “We should definitely hurry.”
Declan guides her through the maze and into the back garden, laughing and holding hands, they miss the shapes in front of them.
“London,” Dillon calls and runs towards her.
London looks up and gasps, “Dillon!” they run and hug, laughing and talking. “What are you doing here?”
“Your husband sent for us, and Matthew picked us up at the train station,” Dillon replies.
London turns to look at him, “You did this for me?”
“Of course, families should be together for Thanksgiving,” he replies and presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Thank you,” she whispers and wipes away tears.
“I'm going to get cleaned up. Elliot, it's good to see you,” Declan walks with Matthew and
