“Mr. Trewlove, if you will be so kind to serve as witness.”
Mick scrawled his name in the proper place.
After taking back the papers, Mr. Beckwith signed them, set them aside, and picked up others. “The deed to the land, Mr. Trewlove.”
Finn took it and promptly passed it off to Thornley.
“Thorne is working on legislation so women won’t have to give up their property when they marry,” Gillie announced. “It is not at all fair that we are treated as though we are too frail to handle such matters.”
Lavinia couldn’t help but smile. Her newly acquired sister-by-marriage was anything but frail.
“I’m afraid it’s not going to happen as soon as my wife would like,” Thorne said. “But I shall not rest until it does happen.”
Gillie gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“I will need you gentlemen to place your signatures here and here to indicate the land now belongs to the Duke of Thornley.”
More signing, more witnessing. Then Thornley handed a bank draft over to Finn.
“The agreed-upon amount,” the duke said.
With a smile and a wink, Finn showed it to her, then tucked it into his jacket pocket. “We appreciate it, Your Grace.”
Beckwith stood and began stuffing everything into his satchel. “I believe that does it, gentlemen.” He inclined his head toward her. “And, ladies. It has been a pleasure to sort this all out to your satisfaction. Do call upon me if I can be of further assistance.”
“Do stay for breakfast, Beckwith,” Thorne said.
“Thank you, Your Grace, but I have another matter to which I must attend.”
He shook hands all around before taking his leave.
“I know it’s early,” Thornley said, “but before we meet up with the others in the dining room, let’s have a small celebration, shall we?”
He poured a splash of brandy into six snifters and passed them around. He held his aloft. “To family and friends and everything turning out spectacularly well in the end.”
“Hear! Hear!”
Taking a sip of brandy, Lavinia nestled against Finn’s side, more content and happy than she’d been in her entire life. What a circuitous route it had been, and yet somehow, in spite of the odds, they’d found their way back to each other.
“Let’s go eat,” Mick announced. “I’m starving.”
As everyone headed for the doors, Finn held her back, holding her gaze. “Are you happy, Vivi?”
“As a lad I know once similarly remarked, ‘I’m bloody rich, the richest in all of London.’ And it’s not because of the draft in your pocket. It’s because of you, Finn. I love you so much.”
Lifting up on her toes, she kissed him, this man who would forever be the center of her heart.
Breakfast had been a loud boisterous affair, nothing at all like the quiet and sedate meals held in the household in which she’d grown up. The Trewlove siblings teased each other, spoke around, over, and under each other. Only a look or clearing of the throat from Ettie Trewlove would put them in their place. It was obvious they worshipped the woman who had taken them in. Family wasn’t about blood, it was about hearts and where they belonged.
“Finn introduced me to a cabinetmaker. A Joe Baker. And he is making the most beautiful shelves for my bookshop,” Fancy Trewlove said. Lavinia was only coming to know her. She was so much younger than the others, only seventeen, but she had a dream of owning a bookshop and Mick was giving her one. “I can’t wait for you to see them.”
“You can’t wait for us to help you put the books on them,” Aiden said.
“Well, that, too, of course. It goes without saying. I can hardly wait until everything is ready so I can open.”
The conversation was carrying on, but Lavinia barely listened. Beneath the table, she squeezed Finn’s thigh. “I didn’t know you’d done that.”
He shrugged. “Figure he could use the extra work. Building a cottage in a tree is not going to be cheap.”
