“You’re leaving?” I asked Father.
“I’m certain I left a book in my study,” he said as he slipped through the drawing room door and into the hall.
Rafe removed his beaver hat. At once my mouth dried.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are in that dress?”
I glanced down at the green gown. A favorite color, but nothing spectacular, at least according to Mrs. Herriot.
“No, but I appreciate a compliment as well as any woman,” I teased. I showed him the letter, and at once his features relaxed as he scanned the contents.
“Bridget, how tremendous.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Yes. They have invited me as an informal member and wish to include me in other excavations. Bramnor is just the start. We could travel together after the wedding!”
“Capital idea.” He captured my hand. “I have news of my own. I reached out to Mr. Talbot the day after the fire. After hearing of my brother’s schemes, he has allowed an extension to prove myself in the joint venture with Mr. Harrington and Mr. Perry. Bridget, we have another year to keep the estate. Mr. Talbot is most intrigued with the idea of tourism.”
“You shall be an antiquarian at long last.”
“I’m only concerned with the future.” He winked as he reached for me and took full advantage of my father’s absence.
“And after your presentation, where should we go for our honeymoon?” he asked, when he finally pulled back enough so I could breathe again.
“Honeymoon!” I cried. “Surely you jest. We should save our coins.”
He shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips.
The money from the publication inArcheologia, along with my presentation and sketches offered a tiny boon, with just enough to escape to a single destination. Moreover, Constable Wickham returned the stolen mosaics to Mr. Perry.
Following the fire, Mr. Perry tearfully offered the recovered amethysts to Rafe instead of the society to help cover the costs of the abbey as restitution for his daughter’s treachery. Rafe sold the gems for five thousand pounds to a secretive buyer. We wondered if it might be the Prince Regent, who had expressed his interest in the ongoing research. Using the funds to pay the debts Rafe had incurred, he still hoped to return industry to the valley come fall with a new harvest of apples from the trees in the old orchard. There was just enough coin leftover to invest in a joint tourist center.
Rafe, Mr. Perry, and I committed to offer an educational experience that would showcase not only the villa and its exquisite floors, with ongoing excavations, but also bring new life tothe abbey grounds. Visitors, eager to explore the rich history of the estate, would be welcome to tour the ruins of the abbey, the Roman villa, and the surrounding orchards.
Rafe dreamed of one day turning the abbey into an inn, making it a place of hospitality.
I could finally breathe a sigh of relief at such a change in fortune.
But time would be needed to heal our wounds fully.
Mr. Perry’s grief over his daughter had gutted him, even though the magistrate found Abigail guilty of no more than lying and foolish behavior. Somewhere in the English countryside, she now hid with another family member until the babe was born. I held hope that Rafe and Mr. Perry would grow to be good friends now that he had no family to lean on.
Mr. Barron and Lord Ainsley were not so fortunate as Abigail. The magistrate sentenced Mr. Barron to transportation to the penal colonies, his crimes of conspiracy and attempted murder unforgivable. As for Lord Ainsley, his title could not save him. Stripped of his lands and wealth, he, too, faced a harsh sentence—ten years in a London prison for his role in the conspiracy and his attempt to ruin the estate.
The day after the fire, Mr. Spencer had found Mr. Beaumont crumpled beneath a beam, his sightless gaze pointed to the sky and a pistol gripped in his hand.The Timesran with the story, claimingHawthorn Abbey Cursed Yet Again.
Rafe and I knew the truth, of course. Curses no longer held sway over my future husband. He had broken free from his past and was ready for a new beginning.
And now, with my intended in my arms, I couldn’t help but agree with him regarding that future.
“Bridget, what better opportunity to have a proper adventure and meet these academics in person,” Rafe murmured against my ear.
“I never could travel on Father’s purse,” I answered wistfully. “You know women do not have a grand tour.”
“Nor did I. I spent too many years fighting. Scraping by. One day, we shall have a grand tour together,” Rafe promised. “You won’t feel cheated with only a small trip this year?”
“No,” I said as I caught his fingers and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “Not with you.”
“Surely, you have one destination in mind,” Rafe pressed with a hint of a smile as he drew closer.
