by Lynn Landes
“You didn't lose her son,” Matthew says gruffly. “Now, the real work begins. You have to cherish her, show her what it's like to be loved by a Sheridan, and the Lord will bless your union.”
“Thank you for everything. You've never stopped working to protect me. You brought London to me, and I'll never forget it,” he hugs him, surprising Matthew and causing a rush of emotion. He squeezes him back, and they break apart.
“I can’t take credit for that. Only the Lord could have orchestrated such a gift.” Matthew laughs and shakes his head in wonder.
“I’m glad you didn’t question his prodding.” Declan runs a hand over his bearded face. “I’m never going to let her go.”
“It was my hope for you to find a partner to love and share this life. A man isn't meant to outlive his children. It was the cruelest blow after losing my bride,” he stares at his grandson, “but I had the Lord, and he gave me you. I've learned that nothing we go through is wasted. The Lord's plan is always perfect, we just have to trust it.”
“I see that,” Declan yawns.
“Did you know that Thanksgiving is in three days?” Matthew asks.
“I forgot! I’ve been so focused on everything here. We must make it memorable. Are you staying?”
“Of course. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got it handled. You just take care of your wife and rest.”
“Thank you. I'd like to spend Thanksgiving here. If London is up to it, I want to go home in a week. I promised my bride a trip to the ocean. She's never seen it,” he grins, thinking about it.
“What about your business?” Matthew asks.
“I’ve found a new investor, and I’m hoping she’ll agree to be my business partner,” he laughs at the look of surprise on his grandfather’s face. “You’re in for some amazing revelations, but not tonight. I’m exhausted.”
“Rest well,” Matthew says with a smile.
Chapter 34
London wakes in the middle of the night and feels him beside her. She rolls over and runs a hand over his muscled chest, reveling in the feel of him. Pressing a kiss to his chest, she allows herself the luxury of exploring his body. Chills erupt, and he grins in the dark.
“What a beautiful dream I’m having…”
“Reality is much better than a dream,” she whispers and lays her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, strong and true. London drapes a leg over his, and he slides a hand up into her long hair.
“London,” he gasps when her hand continues exploring his body, and she giggles.
“Declan, I’ve decided to exercise my right to kiss you whenever I want,” she leans up on her elbow and trails her mouth along his lips.
A shout of surprise erupts when he rolls over, gripping her hands over her head and stares down at her. “That contract is void, remember wife,” he kisses her deeply, taking his time, tasting, and building the passion between them. When he releases her hands, she grips him to keep him from moving.
“I suppose we shall need a new one?” she whimpers when he pushes up and glares down at her. “Just kidding, husband. You may kiss me whenever you wish.”
“I plan on it, Lady Sheridan. I am going to spend every moment of the rest of our lives, showing you what it means to be loved.”
Fresh tears threaten, but London refuses to ruin this moment. “I will hold you to that, Lord Sheridan.”
London smiles as he leaves her to stoke the fire, and when he turns around, she is standing by the bed. Slowly she draws her nightgown up over her head, dropping it onto the floor. He gasps as he stares at his wife.
“Declan, I need you,” she holds out a hand, and he stalks over, lifting her from her feet and carries her back to their bed.
“You have me, now and forevermore.”
Chapter 35
“I’m going to town,” Matthew announces after the doctor leaves. “I have business to attend to.” London’s eyes fly open wide with shock.
“Oh, I forgot!” she runs from the room, leaving both men staring after her.
“What happened to resting?” Matthew grumbles.
“This is resting for her,” Declan laughs.
London flies back into the room, waving a paper. “Declan, I forgot!” she runs over to him, and he grips her by her upper arms, gently stilling her.
“London,” he whispers, and her eyes drop to his mouth. All rational thought fades away replaced by images of them in the middle of the night. His mouth curves, and she blushes. “I need you to heed the doctor's advice. You were lucky she didn't break your collar bone. Sit down.”
“In a minute,” she grips his shirt to get his full attention. “I sold your shares, at eighty dollars a share.” Matthew and Declan gasp at the same moment, and she jumps up and down with excitement.
“London!” Declan kisses her soundly. “That’s wonderful.”
“I meant to tell you that orders are up, Declan,” Matthew says, and he moves over to stand beside them. “We've sold almost all the inventory in the last week.”
“Are you joking?” Declan exclaims, glancing between them.
“No, and this is for you, Lady Sheridan,” Matthew offers her a slip of paper with her name on it. “I opened an account for you with the bank, and you will find your contract is fulfilled. Including the money, I owe you for the shares. I took the liberty of paying back Dr. Elliot Bradley with a bonus, of course, for his kind assistance.”
London steps back, refusing to take the paper. “No.”
“It’s alright,” Declan says softly.
“No,” she glares at them both. “I don’t want to be paid to be your wife!” Declan turns to face her.
“What about my business partner?”
“That’s not funny,” she hisses.
“I’m not joking. London, I need to be able to focus on my craft. I would love to have you at my side, protecting our interests.” She starts to shake her head, but he continues. “This is the legacy that we will leave to our children, London, don’t you want to be a part of that.”
Tears flood her eyes as she looks at the two of them, “Of course, I do, but how will it work?”
“We’ll figure that out together.”
London reaches out to take the slip of paper from Matthew and stares at the numbers. “Thank you,” she presses a kiss to Matthew's cheek.
“Excellent, now, Thanksgiving is two days away. I promised the cook I'd give her a ride into town.” Matthew hurries from the room while Declan stares at London.
“We’ll need every penny to expand the business.” She murmurs and walks away to grab paper and her small black ledger.
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” he grins and grabs the ledgers from his desk and walks over to watch her.
“It’s just a big responsibility,” she writes down the numbers in her black book and sits down at the chair in the corner near the fireplace.
“If nothing else, it will keep you still for a bit.” He walks over and tilts her face up to his, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “I'll go to my shop and leave you to this.”
He drops the ledgers into her lap and walks away with a skip in his step, and she watches him, stunned by his faith in her.
Three hours later, London slips into a coat and walks through the garden, enjoying the maze. She knows her way to his shop and wonders if he will be upset that she is disturbing his work.
Declan wipes the sweat from his brow and slides a rag across the rail of a rocking chair. His mind is designing the intricate scrollwork that he intends to carve in the side of each rail, customizing each piece, giving it the Sheridan stamp. He turns, reaching for his pistol when a shadow passes over the doorway.
“London?” he moves his hand away from the gun in the back of his pants and smiles at her.
“Is everything alright?” she asks.
“Of course, come look!” he holds out a hand, she hurries to his side and stares down at the stained wood. London traces a hand over the satin smooth wood and looks at him.
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“It’s lovely,” she bites her lip.
“You have no idea what it is, do you?” He grins and runs a hand through his dark hair, drawing her eyes. She reaches up and runs her hands through it, sending sawdust raining down.
“I missed you,” she steps close to him, sharing his warmth.
“Your distraction tactics won't work on me,” even as he speaks, his hands are circling her waist, pulling her fully against him.
“Truly?” she pouts, causing him to groan and lean down to kiss his bride. London smiles against his mouth, and he flips her around, causing her to gasp. He takes her hand and runs it over the smooth wood.
“It’s a rocking chair rail, feel the curve,” he asks huskily. London laughs softly and leans her head to the side to give him access to her neck.
“I look forward to learning all about your work, husband, but it's time to come home now.” Declan nibbles on her neck and nips, causing her whole body to jerk.
“I could use a bath before dinner,” he sighs and releases her.
London turns and wrinkles her nose, “Yes, you could.”
He lifts an eyebrow, “I remember someone smelling me in the middle of the night,” he teases, she blushes and covers his mouth with her hand.
“Declan!” he laughs and grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm.
“I couldn't resist. Let's go home,” he whispers, the love in his eyes touches her heart.
“Home is wherever you are,” she replies softly. His smiles fades replaced by a hunger for his wife.
“If we hurry, we can get back before Grandfather,” he replies huskily.
London laughs, “We should definitely hurry.”
Declan guides her through the maze and into the back garden, laughing and holding hands, they miss the shapes in front of them.
“London,” Dillon calls and runs towards her.
London looks up and gasps, “Dillon!” they run and hug, laughing and talking. “What are you doing here?”
“Your husband sent for us, and Matthew picked us up at the train station,” Dillon replies.
London turns to look at him, “You did this for me?”
“Of course, families should be together for Thanksgiving,” he replies and presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Thank you,” she whispers and wipes away tears.
“I'm going to get cleaned up. Elliot, it's good to see you,” Declan walks with Matthew and Elliot, guiding them inside, leaving the women together.
“You look happy, London,” Dillon says.
“I am Dillon.” She stares after them and sighs. “I don't know how this happened so quickly, but I'm so thankful.”
“That's how the Lord works sometimes,” Dillon loops and arm through hers, and they walk slowly towards the house.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Dillon,” she whispers and drops her head to her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I’m sorry about your father, London.”
“Matthew told you,” she sniffs back tears.
“Yes, don’t be mad,” Dillon pleads.
“How could I be mad? I know I lost him years ago, Dillon, but the hole inside my heart is raw.”
“Time will heal it, London. If anyone can understand loss, it’s our Heavenly Father. He will fill your heart, perhaps he’s already started,” Dillon suggests.
London glances at her in surprise, “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
After she settles Elliot and Dillon into their rooms to rest and change before dinner, London makes her way to her bedroom.
Mary is waiting with a steaming tub of hot water. “Your dress is pressed and waiting,” she says.
“Thank you, Mary.” She yawns, “I’d like to soak for a while. Please go rest.”
“If you’re sure,” Mary turns to leave.
“I am, thank you.” London waits until she's alone to pile her hair on top of her head. Stripping out of her clothes, she sinks into the hot tub and groans. Staring at the wound on her hand, it strikes her that it's no longer hurting her. It's an ugly reminder of how close she came to death.
“The true wounds are the ones you can’t see,” she whispers.
“Share them, and the burden lessens,” Declan says softly. London glances at the doorway and watches as he walks over and squats down beside her. It amazes her that she isn't shy in front of him.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, Declan,” she replies.
“Let me wash your back,” he takes the rag from her as she leans forward and soaps it up as he speaks. “I've lost my father and my mother, London, and until you, I faced a future of loneliness, thinking I would have no family.” London drops her head in shame.
“I’m sorry, Declan,” she whispers.
He rubs her back with the rag, soaping her up and grabbing a cup to rinse her clean. “It never occurred to me how hard my father had to fight to stay with me, loving and raising me, until you,” Declan explains.
She gasps, and her head whips to him.
“I’ve only known you a few months, what must that be like, London, to lose your best friend, your partner in life, your lover, and decide to fight. Not all of us are strong enough. I don’t know that I would be,” he says softly. “Watching Tessa hold a gun on you made me realize that perhaps I’m not as strong as I should be.”
London leans over and grips his hand, “I could have screamed for you to help me. Declan, I made my choice, to protect the man I love and trust the Lord to protect me.”
“That's what I'm saying, London. Your father made his choice, and I don't think it was about loving you less, but more about trying to survive.”
“Thank you for saying that, but if we had a daughter with eyes like mine and your smile, you would fight for her! I’ve no doubt.”
“Thank you, your faith in me is admirable, but can you honestly say that you don’t understand your father a little bit more now,” he gently kisses her, and she drops her forehead to his.
“I can. I was reading my Bible this morning, and I came across Psalms 34:18. It reads, 'The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.' I feel that now more than ever. I've lost my father, but he gifted me with you. I will choose to thank him for what I have and pray that he gives my father peace. I just wish I could have told him that I forgive him and that I never stopped loving him.”
“He knows, London.” She shivers, and he grins. “Now move over or get out. Either way, I want to hold my wife.”
London giggles and stands up slowly, letting the water rain off her body. His mouth drops open, and he stares in admiration. “Have I told you, husband, how thankful I am for you?”
Declan stands and holds a towel for her. He wraps it around her and pulls her close, “No, I believe you’ve neglected that duty,” he quips.
“How can I make it up to you,” she asks and rubs her wet body on him.
“I’m sure I can think of something,” he grins.
Chapter 36
Thanksgiving is a wonderful time of laughter, friends, and family. The trip to the beach had to be postponed due to snow, but no one seemed to mind. They all needed to rest, recuperate, and heal together.
“Declan, I was hoping to catch you alone for a moment,” Dillon says. Declan is in his library working on the books. He likes London’s friends. They are protective of her and welcoming to him. They’ve earned his trust and loyalty in return.
“Come in, please. What can I do for you?” he asks.
Dillon is too excited to sit. “I don't have much time,” she jumps up and hurries back to the door to look down the hall. She is the exact opposite in build from London. Petite and brunette, lovely and smart, but sometimes she seems like a barely contained ball of energy. He grins as he watches her.
“Should I be worried?”
“No, of course not.” She hurries to sit across from his desk and sighs dramatically. “It's about Christmas. London has never, well not never, perhaps as a ch
ild, anyway, what I'm trying to say is that London doesn't have her own clothes.”
Declan stares at her, and his smile fades. “You can't be serious. She dresses beautifully.”
“Yes, but those hand me downs from Reagan, and I thought for Christmas you could get her a few dresses of her own.”
“I don’t understand?”
Dillon leans forward, “Reagan would toss dresses at her, “Mouse, take this and see if you can squeeze into it, or Mouse, this color looks dreadful on me, but you don’t care what you look like or Mouse despite the shape of your face…”
“I get the picture,” he growls interrupting her, and his hands are balled up into fists. “I’ve wondered why she doesn’t seem to realize how beautiful she is. This explains a great deal, Dillon. Thank you,” he says hoarsely.
“Her beauty was hidden for so long that she forgot what it felt like to be London. You’ve given that back to her, thank you,” Dillon wipes a stray tear and stands up.
“She’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Declan states.
“We are lucky to have found each other.” She hands him a card with an address on it. “There is a new designer on third street. She’s by appointment only. I’d suggest surprising London. It always shocks me how hardheaded she can be.”
Declan takes the card and nods his head. “I’ll make sure she has everything she needs.”
“I knew you would,” Dillon smiles and stops at the door. “London has challenged Matthew to a game of Chess.”
“Oh, let’s go, I don’t want to miss this.” He is laughing as they hurry down the hall to the family room.
Dillon smothers a giggle, “The first time I watched her play, we were twelve. It was amazing!”
They enter, and London is already sitting comfortably across from Matthew. She is pretending to listen as he explains the pieces.
“This one that looks like a horse is called a knight,” he says.
“Matthew, I used to play with my father. I know the pieces, though I’m not a quick as I used to be.”
“I see. Well, don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on you.” Matthew glares at his grandson when he snorts.
