And then, finally...
‘Up.’ The single syllable was almost a grunt, as if a truly Herculean effort was being made. It was enough to start the teams again. Once again though, they worked with agonising slowness. There was just as much risk raising as in lowering, maybe more, because if he was carrying Flossie there’d be more weight.
She didn’t know if he was carrying Flossie. The teams would know because of the change in weight but Bryn was wasting no words, no effort, in reporting.
And Charlie wasn’t asking. She was no longer thinking of Flossie.
Bryn. Her love. Her man.
And finally he was nearing the top. There were curt orders from Ewan, because he still wasn’t safe. Dragging him over the edge could make things collapse. But Ewan and John were lying full length on the planking, grasping with a strength she couldn’t imagine. A limp bundle of fur was being passed up, seized, dragged backward.
She should rush forward. Flossie was her dog. Flossie was what this was all about. But other hands were taking Flossie. The vet was here, giving orders, carrying Flossie away from the shaft so she could see the damage.
But Charlie’s gaze was still locked on the shaft. On Bryn. On the final few inches.
He was being hauled upward, his arms grabbed, tugged backward to safety. He was standing. John and Ewan were half holding, half hugging, their grimed faces a mix of triumph and relief.
He was safe. He was standing on firm ground, looking around. Seeing his mother, giving her a faint smile. And then...seeing her.
Looking. Just looking.
And that look... The promise in that gaze... With it, the loneliness and distrust inside her cracked and then shattered—and then disappeared as if it had never been.
She smiled. It was a crazy, tear-filled smile, a smile she’d never known she possessed but it was his, all his.
And finally she walked forward, through the mud, across the planking, to take the man she loved into her arms.
It was the moment when Charlie Foster gave her heart for ever.
* * *
Flossie was headed for a night at the veterinary clinic. It was miraculous that she’d survived, but her injuries were a little more serious than when she’d had her encounter with the car. Her leg was broken this time, and she had myriad grazes. ‘She’ll be okay,’ the vet told them. ‘But a bit of sedation and some IV fluids will help her recover faster.’
They thanked everyone. Charlie hugged everyone. It was hard to hug when she was being hugged herself but from the moment he’d surfaced, Bryn had his arm around her. He seemed to need the contact.
That was fine by her. Contact... Body against body. Bryn.
He was by her side. He was safe.
Bryn.
Alice’s sedan proved no match for mud stirred by the vehicles of those arriving to help. It had to be abandoned to be collected in the morning so they drove home together. They drove in near silence—the emotions they were all feeling left little room for words. Bryn pulled up outside the dower house, helped his mother from the car, hugged her hard and then turned to Charlie.
‘There’s room in my bed tonight,’ he said simply and Alice smiled as if she’d expected those exact words. She kissed Charlie and then slipped through her front door and closed it behind her.
So Charlie came on home with him because...that was how it felt. Suddenly this vast mausoleum of a Hall was...home.
Because Bryn was there.
They showered, still almost in silence. Together. It felt right. It hardly even felt sexy. Bryn’s body showed the marks of rope burn, scratches where Flossie had struggled, grazes. Charlie helped him clean them, loving every mark.
‘Love,’ Bryn said softly as the final graze gave up its mud. And he tugged her into his arms, snagged towels and carried her up the grand staircase to the vast bedroom, to the four-poster bed that the Barons Carlisle of Ballystone Hall had slept in for generations.
‘Because it’s time we took our place where we belong,’ he told her.
He lowered her onto the sheets and she smiled and smiled. And then she claimed her man.
* * *
Her man. That was what it felt like, she thought as she woke in the soft dawn light. She was spooned in his arms; the warmth enveloping her was something she’d never felt before...
‘I’m in love,’ she whispered into the dawn, and the arms holding her tightened.
‘I hope so,’ Bryn growled. ‘If not we’re in trouble because this is your home. Now and for ever.’
Now and for ever. She let the words drift.
They were just words.
They were the most important words she’d ever heard.
But some things had to be said. This man had done nothing but give, while she...
‘Bryn, I didn’t trust you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He turned her then, gently, so their faces were inches apart on the great down pillows. ‘Life’s taught you not to trust,’ he told her.
‘Life’s kicked you around, too.’ She hesitated but it had to be said. There was room for nothing but honesty now. ‘And death. So much tragedy...how can you still love?’
‘I was lucky,’ he said simply. ‘Those I loved gave me so much love in return.’ He leaned forward that last couple of inches and kissed her, tenderly, with all the love in the world. ‘You get love, you give love,’ he said softly. ‘It seems to me, Charlie bach, that it’s been lacking in your life. There was only your grandparents to love you. Now though... You have seven dogs, and a couple of cows arriving some time soon. You have Alice, who’s already crazy about you. And you have me. So that’s, let me see, eleven known love donors. With that much love coming your way, my Charlie, do you have enough to send some back my way?’
And there was only one answer to that. She tugged him into her and kissed and then there was no room for words for a very long time.
They slept again and when they woke...
‘I know I should do this properly,’ Bryn said sleepily, holding her close. ‘Fancy restaurant, orchestra, ring cunningly hidden in the chocolate soufflé...but if you feel we can get by without the soufflé... Charlie, will you marry me?’
Would she marry him? Would she wake beside him for the rest of their lives? Would she trust this man with her heart, with her love, with her future?
How could he ask such a question? The answer was all around them, an aura so strong surely he could see it. There was love in this room. Love and laughter and dogs and maybe kids and maybe even grandkids and wonder and hope and trials and joy.
Marriage... The joining together of two people who loved each other to the exclusion of all others.
Two people who trusted each other for life.
He was asking for an answer. He really didn’t know? She saw the trace of uncertainty in his eyes, the trace of doubt behind his eyes and she couldn’t bear it. She smiled and she smiled and her fingers touched his lips, his face. It was a battered face this morning, scratched and bruised.
She loved it. She loved him.
The question hung. Charlie, will you marry me?
‘How can you doubt it?’ she whispered. ‘Bryn, you’ve trusted me from the start but me...it’s taken me a while but I’m there now, with all my heart. Will I marry you? Yes, my love, I will.’
* * *
They loved again and then they slept, and woke when the sun was high and Alice was calling up the stairs.
‘Hey, you two, don’t you believe in answering the phone? I phoned the landline and your mobile phone. Nothing.’
‘I turned my phone off,’ Bryn whispered to Charlie. ‘You want to pretend we’re not here?’
There were dogs scratching at the door. Alice was still below stairs, obviously respecting their privacy—a bit—but by the sound of her voice she was full of import and Charlie wouldn
’t put it past her to power up the stairs and burst right in.
‘My phone must have got wet down the shaft last night,’ Bryn called out. ‘Mum, can you take the dogs? Charlie and I are...busy.’
‘Busy!’
‘We’re also engaged,’ he called and Charlie almost choked at the thought of Alice’s face downstairs. But it seemed Alice was made of too stern a stuff to be distracted by a little thing like an engagement.
‘About time,’ she retorted. ‘But I have news.’
‘News?’
‘Thomas has been arrested in Thailand,’ she told them. ‘And we have an extradition treaty with Thailand. End of scams, Bryn. He’s coming home to face trial.’
‘Excellent,’ Bryn murmured and Charlie heard a gasp of what was surely indignation from below stairs.
‘Is that all you can say? Bryn, don’t you care?’
‘It’s good that he’s stopped from scamming,’ Bryn said, tugging Charlie close again. ‘But for the rest... Nope, don’t care.’
‘Bryn...’
‘I have other things to care about than my sordid uncle,’ Bryn said, smiling at Charlie. And such a smile... ‘I have many things to care about, the loveliest being in my arms right now. So, Mum, if you don’t mind...would you be good enough to take the dogs for a walk so I can get back to my caring?’
There was another gasp from downstairs and then a choke of laughter. But then...ever the mother. ‘You’re not holding her against her will, are you, Bryn? Charlie, are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Charlie called back, choking on laughter. Choking on happiness. Choking on love. ‘I’m absolutely fine.’
‘We’re both fine, Mum,’ Bryn called. ‘And we intend being fine for the rest of our lives so if it’s okay with you...fine starts now.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE WEDDING OF Bryn Thomas Morgan, Twelfth Baron Carlisle of Ballystone Hall, was a great occasion, bruited not only in the neighbourhood but in the society pages across Britain. Since the tragedy, given the Eleventh Baron’s age and distress, the media had left this family alone, but now they woke to the fact that one of its most eligible aristocrats was about to wed. Journalists and photographers thus descended as a pack, expecting...pomp?
They didn’t get pomp.
By rights the wedding should have been held in the family chapel, or in the little village church, but this was a celebration the like of which the district hadn’t seen...for ever? The shared joy of Flossie’s rescue seemed to have embedded Charlie in the hearts of the district—they’d seen her lugging timber—they’d seen her distress and her joy at the happy ending. They’d also seen the way the Baron had come straight to her, the way he’d held her. This was a happy ending beyond happy endings. The joy between Charlotte Foster and Lord Carlisle was thus deemed to be a fine thing and it was something to be shared.
The wedding was therefore held outside, on the lawns of Ballystone Hall. A massive marquee was set up—decorated mostly in pink because Alice was in charge of decorations and both Charlie and Bryn thought, Why not pink? They were so happy, why shouldn’t Alice be, too? So as the music swelled, as the time approached, Bryn stood with John by his side, under an arch of pink roses.
Waiting for his bride.
But first came the dogs because the dogs had brought them together and dogs would be part of their lives for ever. There were ten dogs, each walked by their own attendant.
First, Bryn’s Sadie walked by Ewan.
Then Alice’s two dogs, walking on either side of Ewan’s wife, the lady who did for Alice. Eilwen was beaming and beaming and it seemed almost as if the dogs were beaming as well.
And then came the Australian contingent. They were led by the six people who’d offered them forever homes, four tenant farmers, the local postmistress, and the head of the conservation team. He’d come to the Hall the day after the shaft drama with apologies and gone home with Stretch, the sausage dog. Stretch was now in charge of making shafts safe, or at least supervising the team doing it. For bureaucratic reasons the two dogs now living away from Ballystone were deemed borrowed, not given, but that was okay. It meant they still had to visit and all six dogs had owners who loved them.
Happy ending all round?
Absolutely, for here was another happy ending. Flossie was walking by herself. She was carrying a limp, but maybe a limp wasn’t a bad price to pay for her happy ever after. For the Hall was her forever home now. They could leave the doors, the gates open all they wanted. There was no way she’d leave.
And Bryn had trained her for her role today. She was carrying a ring box around her neck. Flossie. Ring bearer.
She reached Bryn’s side and sat as he’d taught her. He put a hand down to pat her head but Bryn wasn’t looking at Flossie.
He was looking at his bride.
For Charlie was walking steadily towards him. Alice was by her side, her sole attendant, the woman she’d chosen to ‘give her away’. Alice, beaming and beaming. In glorious pink.
But he wasn’t looking at his mother, either.
He was looking at Charlie.
She was wearing a rainbow.
‘You can wear white.’ He’d heard Alice discussing it with her. ‘Yes, it’s your second marriage but no one cares. But I know where we can order you the most beautiful pink gown...’
He would have even married her in pink, he thought, the smile in his heart growing by the moment. But he didn’t have to marry her in pink., because this was Charlie and Charlie had blossomed. Charlie had opened, unfurled, trusted and...loved. One colour would never be enough for this woman.
For Charlie was her own woman. She knew what she wanted. The dress she was wearing was simple but wonderful, a wafting creation of rainbow silk. It had tiny capped sleeves, caught in under her breast and then swirling out, a cloud of rainbow colour. She’d let her curls fall free. A cluster of rosebuds nestled in her curls and she was wearing diamond eardrops that had been in his family for generations.
‘What if I lose them?’ she’d protested.
‘I’ll buy you more,’ he’d promised. ‘But they’re just things, Charlie bach. Lose them or not, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you.’
So she did wear them, because they fitted the outfit perfectly. They were just...what she wanted?
Except they weren’t what she wanted. He knew that now. This was Charlie, and even if she’d worn nothing in her ears, it wouldn’t have mattered. She wanted him.
And Bryn? He wanted Charlie, with all his heart. He wanted her smile. He wanted to wake every morning with her beside him. He wanted his Charlie to love him for ever, and magically she wanted it just as much as he did.
She was reaching him now, pausing for just a moment to pat Flossie because Flossie was being extraordinarily good and a woman had to give a dog her due. But her smile didn’t leave Bryn.
‘Hey,’ she whispered and they might as well have been alone.
‘Hey, yourself,’ he whispered back and it was too much. She was so achingly beautiful. Before the crowd, before all these people, he lifted her and swirled her so her dress flared out in a riotous circle of colour. The guests and the media went wild. Then he used the time while the vicar waited for the crowd to settle to kiss her as he needed to kiss her. As he intended to kiss—and be kissed—for the rest of his life.
‘Hey,’ he said again, as finally they broke apart, as finally reality broke in. ‘You want to get married?’
And she looked up at him, mistily, through tears, this man she loved with all her heart. This man she’d trust for ever. This man... Her man.
‘I think I already am married,’ she whispered back and finally they turned to face the patiently waiting vicar. ‘That’s the way I feel. But let’s say I do.’
So they did.
For the rest of their lives.
* * * * *
&
nbsp; If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Marion Lennox
The Billionaire’s Christmas Baby
Stranded with the Secret Billionaire
Stepping into the Prince’s World
His Cinderella Heiress
All available now!
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The Million Pound Marriage Deal
by Michelle Douglas
CHAPTER ONE
A QUICK GLANCE around the Soho restaurant informed Sophie that she’d arrived first—which was unusual.
English Lord on Her Doorstep Page 17
