“I have it here,” she said, reaching for her bag on the table in front of them. “Frankly, I am reluctant to let it out of my sight.” Withdrawing a silk sack from her satchel, she held it in her hands, the same way she held his heart and their future.
“Mr. Russell, Asprey’s manager, gave me the little bag. I think he was shocked to see the jewels on a cat collar in the first place, and there I was, waving it about as if they were paste stones.”
She giggled slightly, and he could tell it was from nervousness. “What if you hadn’t brought Miss Sylvia to England?” she asked.
“Oh, there was little doubt I would. It wasn’t solely my mother’s will demanding I do so. Her last words were ...,” he broke off, recalling his mother being adamant with her dying breath. Wheezing and barely able to open her eyes, she had repeatedly said, “Take Sylvia. Keep her safe.”
“In any case, I promised her, and it eased her mind.”
“Had you seen this?” she asked, withdrawing the collar and pointing to words etched into the leather.
He stared at his mother’s message.Our love? Both his parents?He tried to think past the bitterness in his brain over losing his father when he was a lad of twelve. For most of his life, holding on to the irrational anger of a child, Greer had felt betrayed by him for going to war and dying.
Yet his mother had wrapped her fragile, cold hands around his and whispered, “From your father and me.” Greer hadn’t known what to make of it, thinking her words were muddled by her illness. But now, as if from the grave, his father and the Carson inheritance were saving him.
“I wonder why she didn’t simply tell you about the jewels,” Beatrice mused, recalling him to the present.
“From what’s come to pass, I imagine she didn’t want her brother to find out. They were close, but she said more than once to keep my purse strings closed when it came to my uncle. If I’d stayed in America and my uncle’s railroad had started to fail, I probably would have sold off the jewels and sunk more money into his business.”
“And your mother never needed to sell those jewels herself?” Beatrice asked.
“No, my mother had a wonderful life except for the loss of my father. She had money from her own parents. We didn’t live like the Duke and Duchess of Pelham, but we didn’t want for anything either.”
He ran his thumb over the etched leather, then turned the collar over. “My grandfather must have brought the jewels from Scotland and given them to his bride, who must have given them to my father to give to his. Luckily, neither generation needed to sell them. And now the jewels will allow me to have you as my wife.”
She rewarded him with her smile.
“And our townhouse,” he added, finally letting his thoughts go farther into the future.
“You’re counting your chickens before they’ve hatched,” she warned. “You should find out what a ‘king’s ransom’ is precisely before you spend it in your mind.”
“A practical shopkeeper’s daughter.” Greer drew her into his arms and kissed her. Slanting his mouth across hers, he nibbled on her lower lip, then, as she parted hers, he deepened his kiss. His body hummed with awareness of her.
“How long are engagements in Britain?” he asked when he broke away to breathe.
She smiled. “Long enough. Too long, if you’re in the nobility, but luckily, we’re not.” Then she shook her head. “I just had the most galling thought. Your cat is more of a true heiress than I ever was, and not a toffee one, either!”
He blinked at her, and then he grinned. In a moment, they were both laughing at the absurdity of Miss Sylvia, the little feline heiress.
“I knew I liked that cat,” he said.
Beatrice stroked the side of his cheek. “I feel so blessed by this turn of events. Mr. Russell wants you to sign a contract agreeing to let Asprey’s be your jewelry broker, and then he’ll proceed. I told him you might go in tomorrow.”
“I will.” Greer captured her hand under his, turned his face, and kissed her palm. A sizzle of desire shot through him, as he imagined loving her in every way. “I’m going to ask you to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” she whispered, blue eyes glossing over.
He grinned at her expression and her tone. “Whatareyou thinking, saucy girl?”
When she blushed, he had to kiss her again, laying a trail of feather-light kisses along her jaw and down her neck. As she arched her head, he breathed in the warm scent of her skin. She smelled like home to him now.
“Mm,” she murmured before threading her hands behind his neck and drawing his mouth back to hers. He claimed her lips again more urgently, tasting her sweetness. Finally, he leaned his forehead against hers and simply held her.How had he ever thought he could walk away from her to marry a titled lady?
“I think you and Miss Charlotte should spend the night at your sister’s home, and I hope you will let me take you there directly, and make sure Miss Charlotte goes there after her painting class.”
“Because of the jewels?” she asked.
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here, especially with your father away.”
