If it was possible for one’s heart to heat and freeze at the same time, hers did so. It fluttered about her chest like a captive bird, yet somehow felt wrapped in a thick blanket gently warmed by a fire. She had been perfectly set up to be an independent woman of means, despite being a married woman whose husband was still living.
Was this a declaration of respect, or was this a perfect separation of their belongings? Was this a sign of encouragement for their future, or was he giving her all she would need to forever live apart and require little at his hand?
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Julia said in shock, her voice slightly muddled to Lily’s ears. “Is it legal?”
“Perfectly so. Uncommon, certainly, but there is no entail on Pendrizzick and no ties to any peerages. Therefore, the details of its ownership and care have very few stipulations.”
Lily swayed a little and grabbed Julia’s arm for support.
Mr. Morgan gave her a concerned look. “I apologize, Mrs. Ganger. Naturally, I thought you knew. I had no desire to upset or alarm you. Shall I send for a doctor?”
She managed to shake her head, though she did begin to feel a little faint.
“I think it is just the shock, Mr. Morgan,” Julia said, patting Lily’s hand and taking her in a more secure hold. “Perhaps we should continue our tour of the house another time, and I should see her settled.”
“Yes, that seems best.” He nodded quickly, bowing. “If you’re sure you have no need of me, I shall return to my office and come by another time.”
Julia bid him some sort of farewell that Lily couldn’t make out, their voices slurring together and getting lost in a rush of sound that filled her ears.
Thomas had arranged… Thomas had…
He had given her Pendrizzick. In every respect, he had made it hers. But why? Why would he do that? What did he mean by it? What did any of it mean?
She felt herself moving, being half dragged and half carried, before finding herself settled on a divan, propped up by pillows and a glass of Madeira thrust into her hand.
“Drink that entire glass now. Don’t gulp it, but get it down.”
Lily obeyed, emptying the glass shortly and holding it out.
It was plucked away, and another glass replaced it, this time filled with something clear.
“Water. Drink the whole glass, don’t gulp it.”
Again, Lily did so, and the rush of sound in her ears faded, as did her dizziness, and, though she was recumbent, she could once again feel her kneecaps.
There was a relief.
The glass was pulled away, and then another glass of Madeira was set in her hand. “There. Sip that at your leisure.”
Lily blinked and looked at the chair beside her where Julia sat, leaning forward, hands clasped, expression concerned but certain. “I am sorry you have turned nursemaid, Julia. I don’t know what came over me.”
Julia snorted very softly. “You’ve just discovered that you own a house and are its mistress without reference to anyone else, including your husband. I’d need a glass of Madeira myself under the circumstances. You did go rather pale very suddenly, and it was all I could do not to shove poor Mr. Morgan out of the house before you would completely swoon.”
“I never swoon.” Lily sat up as best as she could, putting a hand to her clammy cheek. “Not even when surprised.”
“There could be a very simple explanation there. And a very particular condition.”
Lily froze, glancing over at her friend with wide eyes. “Could there?”
Julia smirked a little. “If so, you’ll soon know it.” She gently rubbed her palms together, smirk fading. “Why would your husband put Pendrizzick in your name, I wonder?”
“I don’t know,” Lily murmured, relieved to move on from what they were certainly not discussing. She sipped her Madeira, shaking her head. “If anything, I would think Rainford a more likely property to name as mine. It neighbors my late cousin’s home, and I am close with her children.”
“Does it hold great meaning to you?” Julia queried, her copper braid falling over her shoulder and swaying a little.
No, it did not. Its proximity to Monty, his and Caroline’s children, and to Beth was what made the place special, but the house itself had no special value or meaning.
Not like Pendrizzick.
“Does this mean he loves me?” Lily whispered to no one in particular. “Or does this mean he will let me go?”
“I do not know your husband well,” Julia admitted easily, bringing Lily’s attention back to her. “But I believe I can tell you this: your husband is not the sort to let you go. The first night I met him, all he wanted to do was watch you from the other end of the dining table. His feelings for you, whatever they are, are deep and lasting. That is not something easily tossed aside. If I may… I would advise that you not look for something to fear in this gesture but for something to treasure.”
Lily swallowed a sudden lump of emotion. “You think I have cause?”
Julia’s smile was bright and warm. “Dear Lily, the last gift my husband gave me was a set of earbobs, and he said it was because they made him think of me. Your husband gave you a house. If the man I saw staring at you with such longing is the man who gave you this house…” She trailed off, shrugging her slender shoulders and letting the sentence go unfinished.
Lily did not need it to be finished. She knew the truth of it, and the beauty as well.
Thomas loved her. That was the beginning and end of it. He loved her, and he had purchased Pendrizzick for them but given it to her. Because he loved her.
Pendrizzick meant the end of the brambles. Could it be so in a less literal sense? Could it mean the end of the brambles in their marriage? Could it become their beautiful haven and respite from all else that surrounded them and bring them back to the simple beauty of the love they shared?
Lily closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the divan, her longing for her husband suddenly overwhelming.
She needed him to find his way back to her, and she needed it to be soon.
Cornwall was more awe-inspiring than he remembered, more refreshing than he had thought, and more satisfying than he had ever imagined it. And he was still a good way from Pendrizzick.
Thomas rolled his thumbs one over the other as they sat upon laced fingers, rocking to and fro a little in the carriage as it rumbled over the land. No matter how he felt about the journey from Cornwall to London, though reluctantly taken, this journey on the return, knowing what lay ahead, was worse.
He had no idea how Lily would receive him when he arrived. If she would be emotional or the reverse. If she would be delighted or fearful. If she would welcome him or merely accept him.
The departure she had taken from London had given him hope, but so easily it could have festered into bitterness. He’d never have suspected Lily capable of such things, but he could see her sister Rosalind becoming so, and they were related, after all.
It was dreadful that he had taken so long to come. Shameful, in fact, though he found himself less willing to castigate himself for it than he might have been before. He could not look back, nor live wreathed in shame and guilt any further. He had to look forward to move forward, and he was determined to live his life loving Lily as fully as he was capable.
All else would fall into the proper place after that. Whatever its proper place was. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. Only Lily mattered.
Only loving her. And love her he would, if she would let him continue to do so.
A familiar stretch of beach in the distance suddenly caught Thomas’s attention, and he hastily pounded on the roof of the carriage.
It pulled to a stop shortly, and Thomas hopped out, undoing his cravat quickly and tossing it into the coach with his hat and gloves.
“Sir?” the driver called down as Thomas shut the carriage door before unbuttoning his shirt at the neck.
“Drive on to Pendrizzick,” he instructed with a grin. “I’ll w
alk.”
The driver reared back in shock. “Eh? ’Tis a might ways on, sir. This be Pendrizzick lands, but tha’ house be far distant.”
“That’s all right,” Thomas assured him. “I’ll make my way.” He stepped back, nodding eagerly before turning toward the beach and almost running headlong for it. Almost.
He could not rush this, could not deny the building up of his excitement and his yearning, and certainly could not present himself to his wife and Pendrizzick without letting the ethereal air of Cornwall fully seep into his lungs and his being.
A walk along Dandrea Beach in the direction of Pendrizzick would be just the thing to remind himself of the man he wished to be. Not a pretended man, or some version of a gentleman playacting a commoner, but the heart and truth of Thomas Granger, the man who adored his wife, disliked Society, and found joy in purpose.
He had been that man for a short time here. With the help of his wife, he could become him again.
It was a short but steep walk down to the beach itself, but Thomas managed it well enough. The loss of his starched cravat did wonders for his mindset, and his ease in apparel lent itself to a similar relaxation of his mind. The wind off the sea ruffled his hair in its own untamed way, and his coat rippled against it like the sail of a ship, somehow steering him rather than forcing him back.
Was Cornwall conspiring to bring him to his waiting wife? Was she still waiting?
It had been a few weeks, so she might have adjusted to the idea of living alone at Pendrizzick. He had no doubt that his wife had loved him, but he would admit, to his shame, that he was less certain of her present feelings for him. Had he sinned against her goodness too much for recompense? Could she ever love him as she once had done? Would they be able to find their glimpse of heavenly madness once more? Did something more wonderful lie ahead? Could it?
Thomas inhaled deeply, the glories of the air reaching deep into him before being gently expelled again. The rolling sound of the waves made him smile, memories of leisurely strolls hand in hand with his beloved reminding him what awaited him, accompanied by the echoes of laughter dancing over the sound of pounding horses’ hooves as races along the beach disturbed the perfection therein. A gull cried in the sky above him, soaring up over the cliffs from the sea, circling almost aimlessly.
The setting was as much a return to all that was Cornwall as anything he could have hoped for, and it welcomed him with all the warmth of home. Now all he needed was Lily.
All he ever needed was Lily.
He hummed a laugh to himself, the simple truth that should have ruled over everything in his life now ringing clear as a bell within him. He paused to look out at the sea, smiling at what could be the beginning of contentment returning to his being. Turning back, he started on his path once more, only to stop a few paces in.
Across the beach, walking in his direction, was Lily.
Her dress, the color of bluebells on the moors, whipped madly around her legs in the wind, her dark coat billowing out behind her. Her hair was down except for small sections that had been pulled back, fastened or plaited to keep away from her face. Her cheeks were rosy, either from the walk or the sea air, and her lips were curved in a serene smile as she looked out to sea.
She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
Swallowing, he continued toward her, watching her closely, eager for her reaction, whatever it would be. Her fingers toyed with the stem of some wildflower, occasionally drifting to brush the delicate pink blooms at the end, though she did not seem aware of any of it.
Did he dare call out to her? Did he wait for her to see him? Should he stop and let her determine the tone of this meeting?
His feet would not stop, continuing steadily in their course toward her, apparently more set than his mind on the matter.
Then her face turned towards him, and her eyes widened, her fingers pausing in their absent fiddling. Her smile faded as she gaped, and he slowed his step, though he did not stop.
“You’re here,” Lily said, her soft voice barely reaching him over the sound of the waves.
He nodded, smiling just a little. “Yes.”
She continued toward him, almost wary. “Were you coming to the house?’
“I was,” he assured her. “I saw the beach from the carriage, and I… I fancied a walk before I got there. It seemed too perfect a chance, and I didn’t think…” He cut himself off, suddenly desperate to choose his words with care.
Yet hesitation and reluctance had never served him well in his marriage, and he could not start his marriage anew by clinging to what would not serve.
What could he say?
“I didn’t think I was quite ready to face you,” he admitted as they finally reached each other, both of them stopping. “Not yet. I needed to find the man I’d been here before I could. The man you loved.”
“Thomas…” Lily said gently, her eyes turning soft, “I loved you long before we ever came here. Surely you know that by now.”
He nodded, swallowing against a suddenly raw throat. “I am so sorry, Lily. So very sorry. For how our marriage began and for what happened in London. I should have confided in you, as I had done here, should have embraced you in spite of my fears. Should have loved you as you deserved to be loved.”
She smiled at him, shaking her head a little. “I deserve to be loved by you, Thomas. That is all I have ever wanted. And it’s not too late for me. For us.”
“I transferred Pendrizzick to your name and your care,” he told her, though he suspected she already knew. “It felt only right. The place where I have been happiest, where I have loved you best, lies in your care, just as I do. You have all the independence I can give you, and you may do what you will. I don’t want money or estates or anything temporal to have hold over me any longer. I don’t want to be afraid of losing you if I find myself in disaster.”
“You won’t lose me.”
He managed a smile in return. “I know that now, but I may fear it, nevertheless.”
“Why?” she asked him, the word seeming to catch in her throat. “If you know that, why?”
“I’ve never thought I was good enough for you,” Thomas confessed, desperately wanting to take her hand but knowing he needed to say all of this before he could. “I thought you deserved so much better than anything I could ever give or be. It didn’t matter that I loved you. I had to be enough for you. What I considered to be enough in my eyes.”
He inhaled slowly, then released the breath in a rush. “I wanted to be worthy of you. Somehow, that became purely a matter of money, and I failed you in spite of my efforts. I gained a fortune, but it has not made me a rich man. It never could. The only true wealth I have is you. Your heart, your love… I could be the richest man in England and not have a penny to my name in having that. Knowing now that you loved me all that time, I can only beg–”
“Love.”
His words choked in his throat as he stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
“Love,” Lily said again, her voice clear, her smile bright. She held out a hand, and he took it, gripping as hard as he dared, fearing he might soon wake from a dream. “Not loved. Do love. Not have loved. I still love you, Thomas. And I’ve missed you so much.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn’t fathom the joy that was beginning to fill his soul. But he would embrace it. Freely and fully, he would embrace it.
“May I kiss you, my love?” he asked, rubbing his thumb against her palm.
She sighed, a tear escaping her eyes, and nodded, moving toward him. “Please do.”
He cradled her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers, the ecstasy of their contact immediate, the perfection unending. It was a slow, gentle kiss, a tender expression of longing and love, of relief and regret, of hope and happiness.
It was everything, and it was home.
Thomas moved his lips to brush her cheek before pulling back to stare deeply into her eyes. “Can we start again, Lily? Will y
ou give me another chance? Can we forget all that has passed and build something new, entirely our own? A real marriage. One of love and respect and trust, and of openness and honesty…”
Lily placed a hand over his where it cupped her cheek, smiling up at him. “I don’t want to forget it or to have something new. I want to build right where we are, on all that we’ve said and done, and treasure each and every moment together. I want us to embrace the time we have and make the most of it with each other.”
He nodded, smoothing his thumb against her cheek, forever in awe of her. “I love you.”
Her smile spread, and she turned to press a soft kiss in the palm of his hand. “I love you, too. And that seems a very good thing to build upon.”
He kissed her again, very softly, before smiling and moving his hands to interlock with hers. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He rubbed his thumbs against her hands, warmth and light and love filling his soul in the particular, incomparable way that only Lily could bring about. “May I walk you home, Mrs. Granger?”
Lily sighed and nodded gently, the breeze catching tendrils of her hair and dancing them about her face. “You may, Mr. Granger.”
And together, hand in hand, they turned and walked slowly toward Pendrizzick.
The long way.
Epilogue
“You look well, Lily. Far better than I do, I fear.”
Lily smiled at Rosalind, who admittedly still looked a little pale, though the smile on her face easily made up for it. “I am three months beyond my delivery, Roz. You are not even one.”
Rosalind tilted her head in acknowledgement, tucking her sleeping infant daughter closer to her. “True… and it was a difficult birth, if I may claim so.”
“I think you may,” Lily said with a laugh, sipping her tea. “Josephine Riverton will not be hurried.”
“Indeed, she will not.” Rosalind smiled down at the girl, gently pressing her lips to her brow. A set of shrill screams of delight met their ears, and Rosalind winced at hearing them. “She will also not be soothed, if her sisters wake her with their games.”
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