After Alister got dressed, he went downstairs while Lyra completed her own toilette. There he encountered Roarke’s coachman. At first, the man seemed surprised to find Alister there, but he knew better than to remark on the fact. Instead, he told him that the storm had passed and the coach had been repaired and was waiting outside. Alister saw that his horse was tied to the back, and by the time he had everything ready, Lyra appeared.
“Your carriage awaits, my dear.”
She instantly laughed. “You said that like a true knight in shining armor.” Her lips twitched. “I suppose I’ll have to tell Mrs. Birdwell that she was right.”
Alister felt totally at sea. “What?”
She waved her hand and gave him a bold kiss in full public view. “Never mind.”
Lyra hadn’t yet had the privilege of seeing Thorn Hall, but when the massive, three-story limestone manor came into full view, she couldn’t stop a gasp of pure awe from escaping. It was hard to imagine that she was the new mistress of such a grand estate as this, with its countless chimneys and daunting number of rooms.
But what was more surprising was when her former butler greeted them at the front door. “Barton! What are you doing here? And Mrs. Jenkins!” she exclaimed when her housekeeper from Weston House greeted her jovially.
“Oh, Your Grace! It’s such a joy to see you again, it is!”
As Lyra accepted her embrace, for her servants had always been like family. “What’s going on here?”
“The duke brought us all into his employ, Your Grace,” Barton replied.
“All?” Lyra gasped. “You mean the entire staff ishere?”
“Indeed, he did,” Mrs. Jenkins said proudly. “And if it’s not too bold of me to say so, Your Grace, this man was worth waiting for.”
Lyra turned to her husband, who was standing by silently. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Alister grasped her hand. “Come on. There was something I wanted to show you, remember?”
She accepted his offering without hesitation, and the trust that he’d always wanted from her was readily apparent as she threaded her fingers through his. Without looking at her, he could feel the excitement coursing through her veins.
He didn’t speak as he led her down the hall, causing her to tease, “So mysterious.”
“Don’t be so impatient, wench,” he returned with a look so sly and full of promise that her eyes widened. It wasn’t until she bit her lip that he nearly threw her over his shoulder and marched to the bedroom.
But since this had been his idea to begin with, he had no choice but to follow through. And he’d be lying if he wasn’t anxious for her reaction.
It wasn’t until he stopped before a familiar, carved door adorned with leaves and grapevines that she glanced at him uncertainly. “Alister…” she whispered. “What did you—”
“You’re going to need to close your eyes,” he murmured softly, tightening his grip when she paled and started to tremble. Regardless, she did as he asked. With a heavy breath, he pushed open the heavy oak and carefully drew her inside. Still clasping her hand, he asked, “What do you smell?”
That drew a laugh from her, albeit shaky, but then she appeared to think for a moment as she tilted her face one direction, and then another. “Fresh paint, I should think. And sawdust?” She continued to test the air until her features relaxed into a calm resolution. “Leather and ink.” She turned her adorable upturned face toward him. “Can I open my eyes now?”
“Yes.”
As Lyra’s lashes lifted, her mouth fell open in pure, unadulterated awe as she looked around her. Thousands of books lined the damask covered walls from floor to ceiling. A spiral staircase led to an upper landing that circled the room, complete with a private alcove in one corner. A massive, crystal chandelier hung in the middle of a medallion ceiling, while carved wainscoting ran around the edges. Heavy velvet, emerald green drapes covered the massive windows, and Persian rugs were set about the room under every piece of rich, walnut furniture. The coup de grace was the large, marble fireplace. The hearth was so large, she was quite sure she could stand up straight in it.
It was so much more than she could have ever imagined a library could be.
She felt her eyes well with fresh tears as she walked over and touched one of the leather tomes that had graced the shelves of her own personal haven. As she slowly walked about the room, reaching out a hand to various items, she realized that while her library at Weston House had always touched her heart, Alister’s offering touched her very soul, because now she knew why he’d left London and what he’d tried so hard to accomplish before returning for her.
He’d built her a sanctuary.
“Do you like it?” His husky voice, so uncertain of her reaction caused her breath to catch, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. The words jumbled inside her heart and she couldn’t seem to voice a single one.
He must have mistaken her hesitancy for upset, for he went on, “I tried to match the colors from the library at Weston House,” he paused to clear his throat. “But, of course, if you wish to change anything…”
As his voice trailed off, she finally turned to him and lifted her hands. “I don’t know what to say, except—” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s magnificent. I can’t believe that I should deserve such an amazing gift, or someone as wonderful as you.”
She didn’t know Alister had walked over to her until he lifted her chin with his finger. His eyes roamed and caressed every line and curve of her face before he bent down to give her a feather light kiss. “Never doubt your own worth, Lyra. And certainly never with me. You are the true prize in this room. And you’re all mine.”
