“Only the worst bits,” she replies primly.
I see Wallace lounging against the doorframe, watching them with a faint smile. And I’m watching him.
Obsession? Devotion? I’m asacredresponsibility?
How do I process this?
Wallace glances over at me, head cocked slightly. “Are ye ready to go, wife?” He holds out his hand.
“Thank you for the tea, and conversation,” I say to Mala.
Her smile is warm. “Welcome to the family.”
Taking the hand my new husband offers me, I let him lead me from the house and back into his gleaming black sports car.
“Are ye all right?” he asks, watching my mildly stupefied expression. “It’s a lot to take in, aye?”
“Yeah, it’s been a busy seventy-two hours,” I agree. I look at him and I see raging forest fires, and the spires of Cambridge University, his quiet, secluded home in the forest and hilariously, a lovely roast beef dinner. I see his warm smile and his intent gaze.
I see Wallace, and if only for a moment, I see what could be. I see him as my husband.
Chapter Twenty-One
In which the fire is lit.
Wallace…
My bride stays quiet and thoughtful all the way home. I know Aunt Mala would never violate my privacy and talk about things she shouldn’t, but she clearly gave Scarlett a lot to think about.
I’ve always loved this moment, rounding the curve in the road and then, there’s my place. Big, stone, and unyielding. Standing like a fortress against the mountain. Glancing over, I see the smile on Scarlett’s face.
“This house is so beautiful. The way it sort of rises up to greet you with the stream running by.” She gives me a mischievous glance. “It’s really the perfect combination for you, isn’t it?”
“How so, lass?” I like hearing her talk, hearing her speculations.
“Well…” she drags it out. “Stone, with a strong slate roof. Our house in Boston has a roof like that. Harder to burn. Not impossible, but its strength is impressive. Surrounded by the forest, an incalculable amount of fuel, just waiting for the snap of your fingers.” She sounds almost dreamy, staring at the pine trees surrounding the house. “Then, your remedy. That big stream, full to the banks. You’re surrounded by an endless array of temptation, aren't you?”
I dinnae intend to speak, but it comes out. “And the stone and slate are the counterbalance.”
Scarlett turns halfway in her seat to look at me. “That’s why you love it here so much.”
I pull up to the front door and turn off the car. It’s silent, aside from the soft ‘pings’ from the engine. “Do ye have me all figured out, then?”
She really gives the most unladylike snorts, yet they’re so damn charming, coming from her.
“Yes, husband. You’re such an open book.”
“That’s the first time ye called me that,” I say, unreasonably pleased.
“What?”
“Husband.”
The sky is black velvet with a trillion stars scattered across it as we’re ready to sit down to dinner.
“Ye know, it’s unseasonably warm,” I tilt my head to the deck. “Do ye want to eat outside?”
Scarlett picks up her plate and Murder Mittens’ bowl. “I’d love to. Tell the truth, though.” She gestures around the deck, spanning the length of the house, with spectacular views of the valley on one side and the river on the other. There are giant pots of flowers and candles clustered in dripping bundles. “This is a lovely table setup here on your fancy terrace, but why do I think you spend most of your outdoor time around that fire pit?”
