I wanted his closeness. My passion lived again. Our marriage was whole.
His finger wiped the corner of my eye.
My face leaked.
Tears of joy and pain anointed our lovemaking.
I touched his cheek, and it was wet, too.
His face was so near. I saw him whisper my name.
He asked me questions, like I could answer.
It was him caring for me, making sure I knew I was valued and protected and pleased.
My husband wanted me here with him, nowhere else.
And I am.
Wycliff was my new beating heart, and I was the only one he saw.
And that vision was clean and whole and light.
This was how things were supposed to be.
Me being his breath, him being mine.
We stayed like this, close to each other, until the sun crawled inside Blaren House. It peeked at us through the curtains.
I was tired and spent, but my Wycliff, restless Wycliff, rose from our bed.
After saying his blessings for me, for our Chris, for himself, he headed from the room with the ledgers and his sjambok.
His countenance was strong, battle hardened. He looked ready to fight dragons.
The dragons I knew were mean.
They breathed fire. They didn’t fight fair.
Yet, I was no longer afraid.
I was grateful for Wycliff, for my family, for peace, and for war.
I scooted to dress and fight at his side. Dragons and darkness wouldn’t win.
Chapter Thirty
Finish the Game
Wycliff stood on the grand staircase of Blaren House’s hall. He looked out at the sea of marble. It was quiet, and he was calm, truly calm, inside and out. Ruth loved him again. All the loose tendrils needed to be wrapped up, like a glorious chignon.
Lawden marched to the bottom of the steps, coming from the hall. “All your guests have accepted and will be here be at Blaren House shortly.
“Good. This is almost over.”
Wycliff pondered going back upstairs and convincing Ruth to reconsider witnessing Nicholas’s downfall. If everything played out according to his plans, the man would be jailed, never to trouble them again.
Oh, Ruthy.
