That effort. He was talking about her little dream. She’d shut the door on that dream. Slammed, more like. Or so she’d thought.
She nodded, unable to speak.
“I would like to gift The Grove, and its fifty acres, to Everwell.”
Maddy’s mouth fell open, but she had no words. She wasn’t even certain if she’d heard him correctly.
“I would consider it part of the payment for services rendered,” he continued, his voice warm. “And I would also donate to its upkeep, of course. An annuity.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked at last.
Beau approached her, cautiously, as one might approach a wounded animal. He was so close to her now she could smell the familiar scent of his shaving soap. My God, how she’d missed it. She missed him.
“Because then you would never have to leave it. Everwell could be wherever you are.”
Maddy put her hands to her mouth, trying to contain the sob at the back of her throat. Beau gently pulled her hand away, kissing the back of her knuckles, his lips grazing her skin. She didn’t pull away.
“I want what I want,” he continued, looking at her, his amber eyes warm and smiling at last. “And what I want, more than anything, is for you to be happy. I love you.”
She had his heart in her hands. It was an odd thing, a powerful thing, to accept. He loved her. He’d even said so, and it had been real.
Maddy looked away, focusing on some random spot on the wall, using every ounce of self-control to keep the tangle of emotions that were threatening to dissolve her into a sopping puddle. She looked at her books, sitting prettily on the shelves. And then she remembered those lovely shelves at The Grove. The study, that had held their trunks. It would make a lovely little library.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t appreciate how big a decision this was for you. I was so wrapped up in my own desires, I forgot you were at the centre of them,” he said.
She pulled his hands to her lips, pressing a firm kiss to his fingers, then running her thumb over the spot where a small callus had started to form on his hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have as much faith in my dreams as you did,” she said, her bottom lip trembling. She released a ragged breath and dared to look in his eyes. “I love you, too. So very much.”
It was so hard to speak above a whisper. She was trembling, as she was letting go of years of heartache, fear… and grief. Beau pulled her into his arms.
“Congratulations, Mr. da Silva.”
The unexpected, and slightly bored tones of Lady Em startled both of them. They broke the embrace, but Beau did not let go of her hand.
Lady Em stood in the door, a single eyebrow raised, her mouth tipped up in an amused smile. She looked back and forth between the two of them.
“I see you have managed to discombobulate my dearest Miss Murray,” she said, giving him an appraising look before turning to Maddy. “Before this dissolves into something that might actually give the neighbours something to put in Mr. Miller’s wretched columns, perhaps you could take a stroll outside, where you can discuss the terms of our new arrangement with a bit more privacy?”
“You know about this?” Maddy asked. She knew Beau had sent word about his own case and the Taylors, but apparently Lady Em, Tilda, and Phillipa hadn’t shared everything.
“Indeed. Tilda and I agree it is a splendid idea,” she said. “I will leave it to you, Madeline, to work out the particulars of the arrangement.”
Lady Em continued on to the festivities in the parlour, and Beau stepped to one side, waiting for Maddy. She took his hand, because somehow her body always seemed to know what to do even when her words failed her. When she was afraid. And she’d feared so much, for so long. Here was the one person, more than any other, who told her she didn’t have to be afraid anymore, because he would be there for her.
She led him to the side garden, a lovely border of hollyhocks and calendula, lambs’ ears, lavender, and lily of the valley. Every year this garden changed a little, as it was, until this week, the only part of the flower gardens she’d let the students help manage. At the end of the path there was a little bench, beneath a soaring maple tree, its full canopy lush and moving with the summer breeze. It would have been a lovely sound, but she could not hear it over the beating of her own heart.
“Beau,” she said, breathless.
“Madeline,” he replied, idly running his thumb over her knuckles. God, it felt so good to be touched by him. “Being away from you was absolutely the longest week of my life.”
“Before we go any further, I need to tell you something,” she said. “Something important. It might make you change your mind.”
He pulled her close and put a kiss on her brow that threatened to weaken her at the knees.
“Nothing is going to make me change my mind,” he said. “The Grove is yours.”
“Beau,” she whispered, trying to keep her wits about her, which was desperately hard when his kisses were robbing her of her capacity to think. “This is serious. But I trust you will not tell a soul.”
