AFTER WAITING what seemed an eternity while she wondered what, exactly, Ford was doing with the money from her inheritance, Violet had been unnerved when a note arrived inviting her entire family to dine at Lakefield House this afternoon.
Now on their way, she twisted her hands in her lap, not really listening to her sisters’ and Rowan’s chatter filling the carriage.
As they approached Lakefield, she leaned to part the carriage curtains, spotting bright white repaired and repainted cottages along the way. They had been so dilapidated she’d hardly even noticed them before, but now children were playing outside of them and at least two dozen workers were reroofing and painting yet more.
Ford’s tenants were not being evicted. Instead, it seemed many more had moved in.
Mum placed gentle fingers over Violet’s busy ones. “Are you ready?”
“For what?” Rose asked.
Violet exchanged a glance with Mum. “Just to visit,” she said in as offhand a manner as she could. “You needn’t read something into every sentence.”
“What are you reading?” Father asked.
“Dear heavens.” Violet took a deep breath as the carriage rolled to a stop. They were here. Whatever was going to happen would happen now. She’d never considered herself much of an actress, but she had a role to play today, and she intended to do it well.
Ford greeted them outdoors with a formal reserve that did nothing to relax her, inviting them all for a tour of the house before dinner. Violet followed him, wondering what her parents would think, whether they would still bless this possible marriage when they saw his shabby surroundings.
But then she stepped inside.
The old dark paneling in the entrance hall was now a honeyed tone, and their first tour stop was the drawing room, where the floor had been stripped and polished, the walls painted a soft turquoise in place of the faded red.
“This is lovely,” Rose said in awe.
Had Rose seen the place last month, Violet thought, she’d be making one of her saucebox remarks instead.
But the room was lovely. Unbelievably lovely.
“I still need to order furniture,” Ford explained, “and draperies.” He looked to Violet. “I’ve no eye for decor, so I’m hoping for help with that.”
She nodded, hoping he was hoping for her help.
His study was similarly refurbished, done in shades of cinnamon and olive green. New, empty bookshelves lined all four walls.
“A library,” she breathed.
“That’s a rather feminine desk,” Rose pointed out.
“Indeed, it is,” Ford agreed. “I’ve moved my own desk upstairs, to the back of the laboratory.”
Gone was the ugly brown decor in the dining room, replaced with walls of deep burgundy to set off the refinished cabinetry. A wall had been removed to include the room next door.
Hilda was setting the old table, which now looked too small for the expanded space. “It will be half an hour or more before dinner,” she told Ford, “but I’ve set out some victuals in the garden.”
“We’re going there straight after our tour,” he assured her.
“The garden?” asked Father.
Hilda smiled and raised her voice. “If you’ll but wait a moment, Lord Trentingham, I’ll show you outside.”
The rest of them headed upstairs. The staircase had new, polished balusters, and the steps didn’t creak. “I’ve hired a cook,” Ford told Violet as they climbed, “so Hilda is just a housekeeper now.”
In Ford’s bedchamber, the peeling ceiling had been stripped, revealing dark beams with colorful painted designs from some fanciful former owner. “It’s changed so much,” Violet marveled.
Lily’s eyes went wide. “You’ve been in here before?”
Violet’s face burned. “Not here. I meant the house in general.”
The chamber looked entirely different. The massive oak canopy bed had been refinished to a warm tone, and the old bed-hangings were gone. The attached room had been opened to combine with this one, providing a spacious sitting area.
“What is this?” Rose asked, opening a door on the other side of the chamber.
The small room beyond was clean and painted but yet empty. “It will be a dressing room,” Ford said, looking to Violet and making her blush again.
“‘You cannot conceal love or a cough,’” Rowan read slowly, and she turned gratefully to see an inscription above the door.
“That was there already,” Ford rushed to explain, looking a little uneasy at hearing the romantic sentiment aloud. “We found it beneath layers of paint.”
Mum smiled. “It’s a clever turn of phrase.”
He nodded, shooting Violet a significant glance. “I suppose I agree with it, too.”
“You should marry him,” Rose whispered to Violet as they left the room. “He even has a nice house.”
For once, Violet wasn’t tempted to slap her middle sister. And if she was reading Ford’s silent messages correctly, she had reason to hope he would ask her to marry him again.
Buoyed by optimism, she practically floated into the next room, a small one painted pale green.
Ford told them it was “Jewel’s room.”
“Will Jewel come to visit and sleep here?” Rowan asked.
“I hope so.”
“Me, too.” Now that Rowan was no longer scratching, it seemed he’d forgotten that Jewel had laughed at him. “May we go to the laboratory?”
First Ford walked them through two more bedchamber-sized rooms with new walls that weren’t painted yet. Then they all trooped up to the attic. The old desk at the far end was the only change in the laboratory, but Violet wouldn’t have wanted it to see it any different. The room was Ford, plain and simple.
She didn’t remember drifting down the stairs, but a few minutes later they’d joined her father in the garden, where he was in the middle of explaining the newest pruning techniques to poor old Harry.
Leaving her family to the refreshments Hilda had set out, Ford drew Violet aside. “Come with me,” he whispered. “I’ve something else to show you.” And he walked her around the corner of the house.
There, hanging from three oaks, were three swings: two regular swings and one wider version that was more than just ropes and a board. It had a back and armrests as well.
A swing for two.
“For us,” Ford said softly, taking her hand to lead her toward it. “I remembered how you like to swing.”
“Not too high,” she reminded him, suddenly nervous. “I notice you didn’t hang them on trees near the river. Are the other two for Jewel and Rowan?”
“For now.” His hand squeezed hers. “But I hope other children will use them someday. Our children.”
“Ford…” Faith, how did one tell someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? She had no experience with this sort of thing.
But he didn’t seem to be expecting an answer now. Reaching the double swing, he smiled and said, “Sit,” just like that day on the riverside.
Slanting him a glance, she did so, and he stepped behind her. She waited for him to push, but instead he tilted her back, drew off her spectacles, and lowered his mouth to hers in an upside-down kiss.
A kiss that made Violet’s heart turn upside down, too.
It was a good thing she was seated, she thought as he drew away and the swing bobbed upright. She doubted her weakened knees could have supported her.
He gave her a gentle push. “What do you think of the house?”
“I think…” Here came the acting. She wouldn’t dream of ruining the surprises—either his to her now, or hers to him later—by revealing she’d been the one to buy the book. Even though the white lie weighed a bit on her conscience, that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
“I think I’m confused,” she said, thankful he couldn’t see her face. Without her spectacles, the river looked blurry in the distance.
He pushed her again. “Confused about what, my love?”
The endearment filled her with a cautious thrill. “About everything. Why was this place so run down if you could afford to fix it up? Just because you couldn’t be bothered?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. He wasn’t going to try to hide anything from her, and she loved him all the more for it. “I thought I could afford to fix it up, but that turned out not to be true. Until I asked Rand to sell Secrets of the Emerald Tablet for me.” He walked around to face her. “He got ten thousand pounds.”
She gasped. “Ten thousand pounds! Why…that’s as much as my inheritance!”
“I know.” Gripping one rope, he stopped the swing and slid onto it beside her. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I suspect the buyer was Isaac Newton, since he’d pledged to double any other bid, but Rand told me the purchase was made on condition of anonymity.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone knowing I owned such a valuable thing, either.” That much, at least, was the truth. “I expect it would make him a target for robbery.”
“Perhaps.” Raking a hand through his hair, Ford scooted closer, close enough to be in focus. He captured her gaze with his glorious blue eyes. “I hope this will change your mind.”
“Ford, I must apologize—”
“In a matter of months, Lakefield will be earning a tidy profit. And in the meantime, I have more than enough funds to finish the improvements I told you about.” He pushed off with his feet, setting the swing to swaying. “You can marry me now without fear that I’ll spend your inheritance and rob you of your publishing dream.”
Her heart throbbed in her chest. “Is that what you thought? That I valued a philosophy book over you?”
Suddenly she could see where he could have inferred as much, and her shame escalated beyond bearing. Her throat tightened painfully.
“I would never put a book before you,” she choked out. He hadn’t valued a book over her, either. He’d sold his precious alchemy book for her. “Never. It’s just…well, I couldn’t bring myself to believe any man would want me for myself.” She gave a mournful shake of her head, her gaze trained on her lap. “It was my failing, not yours. And I’m so very sorry.”
Tears welled, and one rolled down her cheek.
She wasn’t acting now.
He reached to wipe away the teardrop, his fingers soft and warm on her skin. “Egad, don’t cry. Please. Just say yes.” As the swing slowed to a halt, he pulled in a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Violet?”
This time she didn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored.”
He caught her up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack her ribs. “I love you,” he said. “Have I told you I love you?”
“Most generously.“ She laughed through her tears. “I must catch up.”
His eyes looked anxious. “Please do.”
She graced his lips with the softest, most cherishing kiss she could contrive. “I love you, Ford Chase.” Missing the feel of his warm, tender mouth on hers, she sought it again.
As he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, she sank into a heartfelt embrace that told her she was his—and his alone. She hadn’t known it, but she’d been waiting for this all her life. This love, this trust, this acceptance of her just as she was.
She loved him. Here, now, today, tomorrow, for all time.
“I love you,” she repeated breathlessly when he finally pulled back.
A smile curved his lips as he toyed with the end of her plait. “Before you change your mind, I expect I should ask your father for your hand.”
“Is that why you invited my whole family? Planning ahead?” she teased, reaching to his pocket for her spectacles. “All right, then. Just don’t forget to shout.”
“SIX MONTHS,” Mum said after the congratulations and the hugs and the kisses. “It will take that long to arrange everything and allow people time to make plans to attend.”
“Tomorrow,” Ford countered loudly, evidently remembering Violet’s instruction to shout.
“Tomorrow!” Rose snorted. “That’s preposterous! It’s too late in the day to get a special license in time for tomorrow. And Madame Beaumont cannot make a wedding gown by tomorrow, either.”
Ford turned to Violet. “Tell me you’re not going to London to order a gown.”
She shrugged. She was a newcomer to caring about fashion and knew nothing about planning events. “Three months?”
“One week.”
At that point, her father pulled her mother aside for a whispered conversation. Mum’s feminine laughter trilled over Ford’s neat new garden.
“Two weeks,” she said, “and that’s final.”