Page 888 of Coal Hearts

But then we’d returned to my brother’s estate, and he’d sat us down at the dining table.

He and Tess acted squirrely and secretive before he almost choked on an offer I never expected. “Stay.”

Stay?

I’d rocked back in my chair all while Ily shared a smile with Tess. “Oh, we couldn’t. This is your home.”

“It is.” Q sent a key spinning on the tabletop. “And this opens the door to yours.”

I’d slapped my hand on the key to stop it spinning, a mix of suspicion and frustration in my blood.

Q had merely stood, taken his wife’s hand, and pointed through the patio doors. “Go north. You’ll find the gatehouse. It’s yours if you want it.”

And then they’d left.

And now, we were here.

“Oh wow,” Ily whispered, stepping through the quaint foyer with flagstones leading to the living room to the left. Rough beams cut the whitewashed ceiling. Sprigs of dried flowers hung in bunches by the window. A fire crackled in a huge open fireplace. The cream couch looked stuffed with fucking clouds and the coffee table was an old wagon wheel with a glass top. The entire thing reeked of country wealth. Old wealth. Obscene wealth. But cosy and imperfect at the same time.

I followed Ily into the kitchen. Grey glossy cabinetry with a huge farmhouse sink. A huge chunk of wood for the bench with a low-ceilinged dining room in a nook surrounded by windows. The floorplan led us to the next room. Another sitting area with comfy couches and shelves full of books. Another room spilled out to the left, where two desks sat on either side of each other as if a husband and wife ran their own company from these very walls. Ily’s red scarf flicked around the corner as she headed into a den complete with a TV projector, bean bags, and soft side lights.

I didn’t say a word as she climbed the narrow ancient staircase to the second level. Up here, the ceilings were even lower but somehow seemed to cradle with comfort instead of squash with claustrophobia. A massive bathroom with a clawfoot bath and modern steam shower glittered with silver and bronze tiles. Three bedrooms with matching cosy beds and thick velvet curtains dripping on the floor.

She let out a soft cry as she stepped into a giant master bedroom with bifolds leading to a quaint roof deck full of potted plants. The view gave a sprawling vista of willow trees, meadows, and Q’s château twinkling in the distance.

The ensuite housed a sauna along with a bath big enough for two. A spa waited on the roof deck. And the California-king-sized bed positively drowned in lacy white pillows.

“It feels so comfortable, yet...I know it’s worth a fortune,” Ily murmured, hugging herself in the centre of the bedroom. “Standing in a simple smaller home has just shown me just how on edge I’ve been feeling in your brother’s mansion.” She ducked her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m ever so grateful he gave us a room, and his home is beautiful, but...”

“It reminded you too much of Victor’s?”

She nodded. “So much wealth. So much decadence. I...I don’t need it. I don’t really want it. I just want to be...us.”

Going to her, I cupped her cheeks. “Us is good.”

She sighed as I kissed her softly.

Pulling away, I said, “I’m the same. I’ve been itching to leave and find a small place where it’s just the two of us. I’m dying to fade into obscurity. To be normal and...happy.”

“Do you think you could be happy here?” she asked, kissing me before dropping from her tiptoes.

“Don’t you want to go back to England? Be close to your brother and parents?”

Her eyes churned with emotion but slowly she shook her head. “Krish doesn’t need me anymore, and...my place is with you.”

“We could always try living here. See how it goes? We can always move back to England if it doesn’t feel right?” I raked a hand through my hair. “But we’d have to pay rent. And I need to get a job. I’m not taking any more of his damn money.”

“I agree.” She nodded. “I want to work too.” She shuddered with a soft laugh. “Gemstones have always been my passion, but...I don’t think I could look at another one. I dunno. Maybe I’ll go back to school and study something else, rather than be a gemmologist.”

I shuddered at the very mention of gems.

Rubies and emeralds, sapphires and diamonds.

Speaking of diamonds.

My heart kicked as Ily unravelled her scarf and tossed it on the bed.

“Want to christen this place?” She spun to face me with a smile. “Make it our own?”