Hidden Paradise

EPILOGUE



Rob, England, one week later

Di was asleep on his shoulder as the airport bus rolled through the village. He saw the roof of Paradise Hall through the trees, and then the imposing iron gates and the gatehouse. He peered down the drive but couldn’t see anyone, and the bus moved on.

“Hey, Di.” He shook her gently. “We’re home.”

She opened her eyes and blinked. “I wish we didn’t have to come back.”

“Is anyone coming to meet you?”

“Yeah, my mum.” She yawned. “When are you going back up to the house?”

“In a couple of days. I’d better go and see Graham and my dad first.”

The bus pulled up at the pub, and they gathered their bags—Di had tons of stuff, clothes and shoes she’d bought, and presents for people. Rob helped her unload.

A woman and a small girl stepped from a car nearby and Di rushed over to them, babbling about New York and how great it was. Di’s sister jumped up and down, demanding to see her present from America.

Rob brought her bags and bits and pieces over. “Hi, Mrs. Brooks. I’m Rob Temple. I work at Paradise.”

“Oh, yes, we’ve heard all about you.” She shook his hand.

“Are you Di’s boyfriend now?” the little girl piped up.

“Yes,” he said, so happy to be able to say as much. “Yes, I am.” He put his arm around Di’s waist and kissed her.

They invited him back to their house and he said he’d be along later. He needed to see his family and catch up on stuff. And he needed time alone to think about the new, scary, amazing developments with Di.

* * *

ROB APPROACHED HIS DAD’S cottage, seeing the familiar thread of smoke among the trees. The front gate to the cottage had been repaired—it swung open, freshly oiled—and he noticed someone had started to weed and clear out the flower beds in the garden.

He walked up the flagstone path and pushed open the cottage door, surprised it was open. A tall woman, her blond hair tied back, stood at the stove, pouring water from the kettle into a teapot.

He opened his mouth to say something and a dry croak emerged.

She turned and they stared at each other for one long moment.

“Why are you wearing Dad’s pajamas?” Rob asked his mother, surely one of the most stupid questions of his life. And then, footsteps thundered down the stairs, and his dad, wearing only a pair of underpants and a cheerful, stupid grin, joined them in the kitchen.

Rob’s face burned. It was too obvious why she was wearing his dad’s pajamas and his dad wasn’t wearing much of anything at all, and he’d almost walked in on them.

“You’re back,” his dad said. “Have a good time?”

“Yeah, yeah, great,” he mumbled, still staring at his mum. He’d imagined his mother’s return so often; how he’d demand apologies and explanations. Now he could only stand there like an idiot.

“Where’s Graham?” he asked.

“Off playing with a friend,” his mum said. She carried the teapot to the table and reached for mugs from a shelf. Three mugs. “Want a cup of tea, love?” she asked him.

“Uh, no thanks. I’ve got to go,” Rob said, backing away. No way he wanted to intrude on whatever was going on here, not with his dad gazing at his mum like that, and the way she looked at him, like she wanted to… God, it was embarrassing. She put out her hand to Rob. “Come back for dinner? About six?”

“You’ll still be here, will you?”

She flinched, just a little, but her voice was steady and calm. “Yes, I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” He almost fell over his feet getting out of the cottage as fast as he could.

He hadn’t even asked whether his sister had had the baby, but he supposed he’d find out soon enough. If he’d become an uncle he was fairly sure his parents would have mentioned it, unless they were totally brain-dead from too much sex. Meanwhile, he had an invitation to go to Di’s house and that’s where he would go.

He left his backpack in the cottage and set off through the woods, back into the village to Di’s house, thanking his lucky stars he hadn’t arrived five minutes earlier and caught his parents bonking. He wasn’t dumb enough to think they never did it, but it was still a surprise to see them together and looking happy about it. Nice, in a rather awkward, cringing sort of way.

And now he’d see Di—he felt rather like one of Lou’s dogs, which greeted you with unreserved enthusiasm however long it had been since they’d last seen you. But that was the way he felt about her, full of mindless joy, wanting to talk to her and touch her and find out everything about her. She was at her mum’s house, so he doubted they could take a shower together or go to bed for some f*cking on English soil, but they’d find a way. So this was being in love—weird, fantastic, finding yourself helpless and powerful at the same time. Better ask Mac for advice, or perhaps not. He was pretty sure he and Di could work things out together.

* * *


Lou

THIS TIME SHE MADE HER ENTRY into Paradise Hall wearing blue jeans and tugging wheeled luggage along the gravel drive. She no longer searched for ghosts.

This afternoon a man of flesh and blood lay fast asleep beside her in this low-ceilinged room at the top of the house. Servants’ quarters, now that they worked at Paradise, but with a wide bed and soft cotton sheets. Their second room was set up as an impromptu office.

She couldn’t sleep, restless and excited, despite her jet lag. This evening they would break the news about the Austen find—and she had to remind herself, nothing was yet proven, but the possibilities were thrilling—to Peter and Chris.

She turned and laid her hand on Mac’s chest, her fingers tangled in his chest hair, envying his repose. What a marvel he was, this man of so many contrasts, tenderness and roughness combined. They still had so much to discover about each other, time to deepen and strengthen their bond.

He shifted at her touch and brought his hand up to link their fingers; his dark, strong fingers clasped her smaller, more slender ones. With her free hand, she traced a casual line down his chest and kept going, beneath the sheet. “I’m asleep, Lou.”

“Sure you are.” She rolled on top of him. “Asleep in Paradise.”

* * * * *