“Hush. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Now that it’s safe,” I whisper, leading him to my bed, “let’s finish what we started this morning.”
Afterward, we lie together, limbs entwined beneath the sheets. I nestle against Beckett’s chest, breathing in his salty skin, pleasure drunk and happy. The candles dance and play hypnotic shadows on the wall. “I want to spend every night in your arms from now on,” I say. “No more of this false propriety or keeping separate rooms.”
He laughs softly. “Harriet will tease us about living in sin.”
“Oh, I think Harriet already knows what we’ve been doing.”
“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about this morning. About this house, and Marguerite’s will.” Beckett grows quiet, contemplative. His hand circles low on my back, tracing the divots in my hips. “I’d like to marry you, Sadie. Make this right. If you’ll have me. That way, no matter what Marguerite decides, this’ll always be your home. You won’t have to worry about anyone taking it from you.”
“Marry you?” My heart leaps. I duck my head beneath his chin. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Oh, Beck. You’ve just made me the happiest girl on earth.”
We make love again, slower this time, indulging in one another. As I watch him drift off to sleep, my mind whirs with wakefulness, with his promise, with the earnest simplicity of his proposal. I don’t need a flashy diamond or a big church wedding to prove to the world that someone loves me. I need only Beckett and thousands of perfect, peaceful moments just like this.
Chapter 33
October 13, 1925
The attorney looks at Marguerite over his spectacles, one eyebrow lifting. “So, if I’m to understand, you wish for your estate to go to Mr. HillandMiss Halloran?”
“Yes, Mr. Bruce,” Marguerite says with a crisp nod. “That’s what I’d like.”
“We’re ... going to be married,” I say, reaching for Beckett’s hand. “Probably this spring, though we haven’t yet set a date.”
“I see.” Peter Bruce clears his throat. “Might I have a word with both of you, privately?”
We trail him into the hall, where he fixes us with a gimlet stare. “You do know I cannot redraft this will as she’s requested and guarantee it will be upheld by the probate court. If she has it written in this way, it’s very likely to be contested by another member of your family, especially since Beckett isn’t a blood relative. I often see property held up in probate when left to someone other than a client’s next of kin.” He opens the folder in his hands, studies the paperwork inside. “I believe Marguerite’s next of kin is Grace Cameron, your deceased mother’s sister. Is that correct?”
I worry the lace on the edge of my sleeve. “Yes. But Aunt Grace already has a house—in Kansas City. A big one. She’s a widow of little means and can barely maintain one home, much less two.” Whichmeans Louise, with her covetous ways, will prevail upon her mother to make Blackberry Grangehers. I imagine those three terrible children running roughshod over the house, Marguerite’s priceless porcelain and crystal heirlooms shattered on the floor.
“I can empathize with your concerns,” Mr. Bruce says, “but according to the law ...”
“What do you suggest we do, sir?” I ask. “To ensure Marguerite’s wishes are carried out?”
“I suggest the two of you marry, as soon as possible. You don’t have to tell anyone but myself and Miss Thorne, but in the eyes of the law, it will solidify your claim to the estate and give your great-aunt what she wants, as the two of you will become a legal entity. Have your ceremony in the spring, if you’d like, with all your trimmings, but don’t waste any time making things legal, especially given Miss Thorne’s condition. Once you’re married, we can redraft the will.”
Beckett and I look at one another, my nerves tight beneath the surface until he smiles. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he says. “What do you say, Sadie?”
“Now’s as good a time as ever, I suppose.”
“You’ll just need to go to the county clerk’s office to get a license. Then the judge could marry you as soon as next week.” He turns to me. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s passing, Miss Halloran, but it’s good that you contacted me once you found the will. I see families torn apart by such matters all the time. Let’s do our best to make sure your aunt’s wishes are honored, and you receive the inheritance you deserve.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bruce.”
“Of course. Make sure you call me as soon as the ink is dry on that marriage certificate.”
He goes back into the library, and Beckett and I face one another. I suddenly feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. “This time next week, I’m going to be your wife.”
“Yes, and I think it’s for the best, Sadie. For lots of reasons. When you said you wanted a spring wedding, I was worried.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think Marguerite will last that long.”
“Don’t say that, Beckett. She’s been feeling better lately. She’s even eating again.”
