Her answering smile took my breath away. “No. It’s never too late. And I want to rebuild with you, Rafe. Together.”
Unable to restrain myself, I reached for her hand and pulled her toward the stable, away from the crowd, into the quiet shadows where Chaucer waited. My heart was racing from the fire, the fight, and, more than anything, from the woman standing before me. Her hair reminded me of the night I brought her home in the rain, when I should have kept my distance but couldn’t. Even then, I had wanted her near.
“Bridget,” I murmured, taking her hands in mine, “I don’t have wealth or a grand estate to offer. Everything I have is falling apart, and I’m half a man without you.” I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing across her skin as I met her eyes. “But when I look at you, I see the woman who braved storms in nothing but slippers and found beauty in broken, lost things. You’ve been my courage when I had none. Bridget, you are my home.”
Her lips twitched, a glimmer of mischief lighting her eyes. “Ah yes, those impractical slippers. I never knew footwear could make such an impression on a man.”
I chuckled, but her expression turned tender as her hands settled on my chest. “But, Rafe, your estate, come what may, matters not. I only needyou.”
She rose onto her toes as she whispered, “I love you, you stubborn, impossible man.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Will you do me the honor—”
We spoke at the same time, her words echoing mine. The sound of her laughter sent warmth flooding through me.
“Are you asking me to marry you?” I teased, though my voice was rougher than I intended, shivering with a need I could barely suppress as my hands slipped to her waist. “Bridget, it is the man who ought to ask.”
She flashed a sheepish smile, as if realizing her impatience. It was one of the many things I adored about her. But before I could continue, her words, laden with emotion, broke the air between us.
“Then show me. Tell me I matter to you. Tell me you’ll always cher—”
I cut her off with a fierce kiss, unable to stop myself any longer. One hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, while the other cradled the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her loose hair.
When I finally pulled away lest I lose control, her lips were still parted, her breath mingling with mine. I gazed down at the woman who had become my everything. “Woodland sprite,” I murmured, the words filled with reverence. “You’ve utterly bewitched me and stolen my entire heart. Will you promise never to leave my side?”
“I will never abandon you. Never,” she whispered.
I felt a flicker of fear despite her declaration. “I will not be a rich man, Bridget. Rent from tenants and sheep shearing will be my only income until the orchards grow again. I will likely lose everything if the Crown has its way. You’ll live in a cottage next to a burnt abbey, and people will reject you because of the Hawthorn name.”
She smiled. “You do have a remarkable library in your favor—if it survives. And a marvelous land full of hidden history, and truthfully, I don’t care a whit what others think. As long as we have each other, what else do we need?”
I rested my forehead against hers. “Then I am yours, always, and you will be mine. I want to spend a lifetime pursuing you.” A surge of excitement filled me as I added, “Besides, I have a sudden interest in opening a joint tourist site with Mr. Perry, if you’ll both allow it. Imagine the museum we could build together, protecting this place for the world to see.”
She hugged me tightly, and I buried my face in her hair.
“Cider presses and palaces with you and me together,” she murmured, her voice soft against my chest. “I can’t think of a pairing more lovely.”
EPILOGUE:Bridget
Love in its essence is spiritual fire.
SENECA
Three days later, I received a formal invitation to present my findings to the Society of Antiquaries. I hardly dared break the beautiful seal—a testament that my research would finally find an audience. My joy nearly overflowed as Father and I read the letter in the drawing room.
“You did it, Bridget. At long last, the entire world will learn of the Roman villa discovered in Bramnor. And I imagine this will not be your only excavation,” he said with a tremulous smile.
“They’ve offered to pay me for the presentation and some of my sketches in advance, and by the end of the month! We can at last hire a lawyer for Daniel,” I replied. Strange how my eyes watered so often as of late. I dashed aside a tear with my knuckleas I scanned the invitation again, allowing the pristine script and perfect penmanship to sink into my memory.
“Yes,” Father murmured beside me. “Although, Bridget, God may yet have a purpose for your brother in that hulk. A refining, if you will. I will go to him at the soonest convenience with the good news. I must make amends with him as I have done with you. I can only hope our relationship will be restored.”
“It can, Father,” I reminded him. “After all, if the old viscount could find redemption, surely we can hold on to hope for Daniel.”
My heart pounded with joy. I planned to run all the way to the abbey to find Rafe and share the letter with him, but when I went to retrieve my poke bonnet from a hook on the wall, the door opened in our entranceway and there he stood.
Father cleared his throat and started to leave the room with his paper folded beneath his arm. In fact, he barely offered a greeting to Rafe, although I thought I saw a sparkle in Father’s eyes. Hard to say with his spectacles reflecting the morning light.
