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“We’re doing all right now,” he said.
“Yes, we are.” She stretched up to brush a kiss across his lips. “You will let me pitch in, though? The damage must be extensive.”
“It is, and we are dealing with it.”
She pushed up on her elbow and peered down at him through the shadows. “All the rooms with water damage are going to need attention. And we need to do something about the castle, too, before it all falls in on itself.”
“One thing at a time. But yes, you will be allowed to spend your money liberally.”
“And to be involved, to be included in the decision-making...”
“Yes.” He stroked her hair again. “Of course.”
Satisfied for the moment, she settled into his arms again. “It’s so strange. I knew you’d done well for yourself. And I promise I was paying attention in all those meetings with the lawyers last week....” She tried to think how to finish.
But then she didn’t need to finish, because he understood. “You always pictured yourself coming to Hartmore’s rescue, didn’t you?”
“That’s it. I would ride in on a white horse, brandishing a giant checkbook.”
“That was when you were going to marry Edward.” He said it evenly, without heat, it seemed to her. But she couldn’t see his expression in the dark.
She dared to take it further. “Not that he ever came close to asking me.”
“He would have asked you.” The words were flat, bleak. The conversation had veered very close to forbidden territory.
Still, she pushed for more. “How do you know that?”
“Gen. Please. We all knew it. Just as we all knew you couldn’t wait to say yes to him.”
Because I wanted Hartmore, she thought, but didn’t quite have the courage—or the integrity—to say out loud. Dear God. No wonder Brooke hated her.
She was a princess by birth. An heiress with money to burn. She had it all, but she’d wanted more. She wanted to be countess of Hartmore, to be a DeValery in fact as well as in her heart. She would have married Edward simply to get what she wanted. Deep down, she’d always known that.
But until recently, she’d been able to tell herself pretty lies about it—that she loved Edward, that he was the man for her and she was only waiting for him to see that and take action.
The pretty lies weren’t working anymore.
Not since two months ago.
Not since the first time Rafe had kissed her in the foyer at Villa Santorno.
“Sleep now,” Rafe whispered.
Sleep. Yes. A good idea—much better than trying to talk about the difficult things.
Much better than facing too much painful truth.
* * *
The next day, Monday, the Bravo-Calabrettis departed. Genny’s mother and father went home to Montedoro. Rory was on her way to Colorado. Genny, Rafe and Eloise saw them off after breakfast.
Genny spent half the day in the West Wing, looking over the rooms with water damage, trying to get something of an idea of what would have to be done. Many of the damaged areas were former servants’ quarters. The servants’ quarters and hallways were plain, the walls of stone or sometimes wood. The repairs would be simpler in those rooms, but no less critical.
Later, Rafe took her to his study and showed her the plans for the new roof. It was a truly impressive undertaking.
First off, extensive scaffolding and a temporary roof would be built above the existing one, so that the repairs could go on regardless of winter weather. Included in the project was a complete redesign of the West Wing roof structure, necessary because of design errors in alterations made back in 1838. The new roof would have a hundred-year design life upon completion and would require fifty metric tons of new sandstone to match the old, degraded stone, and eighty metric tons of continuously cast lead roof coverings to replace large sections of defective slate slabs.
“It’s so exciting,” she said.
They stood over his desk. He snaked out an arm and hauled her in close. Desire, like a pulse, coursed through her as he pressed his lips to her hair. “Only you would find roof repair exciting.”
She thought of the things they’d done the night before. Of what they would do in the nights to come. Of how good his big body always felt when he was pressing it against her....
And then she made herself concentrate on the business at hand. “Hartmore will get what it needs, and I do find that exciting—and I’m going to want to go through all the furniture that’s been moved into storage. I want to hire the best people to put the rooms back together. It all has to be done right, you know.”
“Your eyes are shining.” He touched the side of her face.
