“FATHER,” VIOLET said loudly, “I’d like the use of my inheritance.”
Seated across from her at the library’s round table, Joseph glanced at Chrystabel before looking back to their daughter. “Have you an investment in mind?”
“No. Well, yes.” She lifted her chin. “An investment in my future.”
Chrystabel barely suppressed a smile. “Can you explain yourself, dear? This is very confusing.”
“Ford is planning to sell Secrets of the Emerald Tablet. I wish to buy it.”
Joseph frowned. “You hardly need your inheritance to buy a book.”
“This book costs ten thousand pounds.”
Watching her husband’s jaw drop open, Chrystabel reached beneath the table to take his hand. “Why do you want to buy it?” she asked Violet calmly.
She thought she knew the answer. She hoped she knew the answer. And when tears sprang to her daughter’s eyes, she knew she knew the answer.
“He’s s-selling it,” Violet stuttered out, “so he can fix up his house and win me.”
“Then let him do it,” Joseph said. “You don’t need to spend your—” He broke off when Chrystabel kicked him under the table. “What the—”
“What your father means to ask,” she interrupted, laying her free hand on Violet’s arm, “is what you intend to do with the book once you have it?”
Her daughter’s eyes cleared, and she drew a deep breath. “Why, give it back to him, of course. As a wedding present.”
“Oh, dear.” Chrystabel’s own eyes glazed over. Her eldest was getting married. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
HER PARENTS watched while Lord Randal handed Violet the book. She clutched it to her chest, wishing she were clutching its owner instead. But she hoped to be holding Ford soon enough.
“Father’s solicitor will send the money tomorrow. You won’t tell Ford who really bought it, will you? Even though he’s your friend?”
“My best friend. But I wouldn’t dream of it. Your secret is safe with me.”
“You’re a good friend, Rand.”
He nodded toward the book. “So are you.”
She sent him a tremulous smile. Ford would have her inheritance now, but if she felt a tiny pang at the loss of her own dream to publish a book, it was completely eclipsed by the joy of finding love. True love. A lifetime of love was so much more precious than any academic goal she might reach as a lonely old lady.
“Thank you, Rand. For everything.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He turned to leave, then swiveled back. “Where’s your sister Lily?”
“Oh, outside, I’m sure. Tending to her poor, bedraggled menagerie.”
His eyes lit, and he looked to her father. “May I have your permission to stop and visit with her?”
Father blinked. “What?”
“Joseph,” Mum explained loudly, “Lord Randal is asking if he might visit with Lily.”
“I have lilies in the garden.”
“Of course you do, darling.” She smiled at Rand. “Go ahead. I expect Lily will be pleased. But she’s young yet, Lord Randal. So visiting is all that will happen.”
Wide-eyed, he nodded and left.
Slack-jawed, Violet turned to her mother. “Lily?” she asked. “What about Rose? If she hears of this, she’ll be furious.”
“I’m not telling her,” Mum said. “Are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Tell who what?” asked Father.