Chapter Fifty-Two
The ruin looked the same from a distance . . . well, except for the roof, which appeared to be finished, and all in clay tiles, too. But as Judith got closer, she saw that many of the windows had been replaced as well, perhaps all of them. Nathan had obviously been busy this week. Too busy to open the invitations she’d arranged to have forwarded to him? Or had he deliberately ignored those?
The front door was wide-open. So were the new windows. As she stepped inside, she noticed that a nice breeze was circulating. The entrance hall and the parlor hadn’t changed much, but at least the cobwebs were gone and the staircase had new boards, all but one, which Nathan was still hammering in place.
His shirtsleeves were rolled up, his tool belt strapped to his hips. And he was wearing knee-high Hessian boots? She almost laughed. Did he not realize he shouldn’t be working in such fancy footwear? But he probably found them too comfortable to resist. He’d obviously done some shopping while in London. Or collected the rest of his wardrobe that he’d left in England when he sailed.
She’d been filled with such determination and resolve. Why the deuce was she suddenly so nervous now that she was here? But she didn’t have much time. Her father was allowing her a brief visit alone with Nathan, but warned if she took too long, he’d come to find out why. Did he really think they’d make love in a crumbling old ruin? Well, rake that he used to be, he probably thought exactly that.
She carefully stepped inside because he’d replaced some of the rotted floorboards in the foyer, but not all.
“Are your nieces here with you? I’ve looked forward to meeting them.”
He glanced back, straightened, and came down the stairs without taking his eyes off her. “They’ll be remaining with Peggy and Alf, your uncle James’s caretakers, until the house is fit for them.”
“You mean until it’s finished?”
“No, just until it’s no longer a danger to curious children. Which won’t be much longer. The attic and the first floor sustained the worst of the weather damage. The second floor hasn’t needed nearly as much work. The girls’ rooms are already done.”
She was surprised. “And furnished?”
“Well, no. And I’ve still got to paint or wallpaper them and figure out what to put on the new floorboards.”
“You don’t think they’d like to be a part of that? Watch the progress? Make choices for their own rooms? They could stay with my cousins next door in the meantime. They’ve got an army of servants to watch over them, including my cousin Cheryl’s old nanny. And Derek’s cook makes such wonderful desserts. They’d be thrilled.”
His brow furrowed with a frown. “Too thrilled. I don’t want them getting used to a grand mansion like that because then they might be disappointed with the home I’m giving them.”
Judith knew his nieces would be delighted with this manor once she added her touch to it, but she didn’t say that. He was annoyed enough with her suggestion to finally take his eyes off her face—and notice the kitten in her arms. She’d brought it as an excuse to visit him—if she ended up needing one.
“I never expected to see it again.” He couldn’t help smiling at the furball. “Figured you would have found it a home by now.”
“Bite your tongue. Silver is quite entrenched. And it has been determined to be a he by my mother.”
His eyes came back to hers. “Why did you bring him?”
“I know you only gave him up because you had nowhere to keep him while you finished your business in America. I thought we might share Silver, now that you appear to be staying in England for the time being.”
“Share?”
“We can—figure something out.” She looked away.
Her nervousness had just shot through the roof. This wasn’t exactly how she had expected this meeting to go. Why wasn’t she in his arms already? Or was he as nervous as she was?
She set Silver down on the floor. He didn’t wander off, just started licking his paws. Nathan might have picked him up, but he followed her instead when she walked over to the room she’d first met him in—when she’d thought he was a ghost. And had, more recently, been kissed by him. He never did confirm that he was a smuggler. Still, she was sure he used to be one, but hoped he was done with that part of his life.
The room looked the same with blankets hanging over the windows and a rumpled cot in it. But the blankets looked clean. She guessed he simply preferred this old study for now to a moldering master bedroom upstairs.
“Show me the hidden room.”
She wasn’t sure he would, yet he moved past her to one of the decorative wooden strips spaced several feet apart on each wall to cover the seams of the old wallpaper. One had a switch on the side of it.
“A bookcase used to hide this,” he explained as a panel opened in the wall next to him. “It was empty, the books likely stolen, and wasn’t worth keeping, so I used it for firewood long ago. Then I noticed the latch when I was here one day, trying to see how easily I could punch my fist through these walls.”
She grinned. That must have been one of his angry-at-the-house days. She went over to peer inside the room. The decent-size space was filled to the brim with stacks of lumber and other supplies—and an open case of brandy up front, a few bottles missing from it.
“Ahha!” she couldn’t help saying.
He laughed behind her. “When The Pearl became mine, her crew expected me to continue in my father’s footsteps. Smuggling I knew how to do. Merchant trading is much more involved, and I didn’t know the first thing about finding markets that would turn a profit instead of a loss, or making contacts for cargoes. I do now, thanks to the Andersons.”
She swung around. “So you’re going to try legitimate sailing?”
He shook his head. “I’m actually thinking of hiring a captain and sending The Pearl to join the Skylark fleet, which was Boyd’s suggestion. They already know all the markets and have all the necessary contacts.”
“And you’ll turn a tidy profit from that while you—farm?”
He laughed again. “No, I think I’m more partial to your idea of building a few rental cottages. After the house is done, of course.”
They were talking about such inconsequential things while she . . . “I don’t have much time.” She hurried back to the main room to make sure her father hadn’t yet arrived.
He followed her and put his hands on her shoulders to keep her there. “I was going to give you two weeks.”
“Two weeks for what?”
“Before I returned to London for your answer. But I’m not exactly partial to climbing through windows, so I’m glad it only took one week for you to bring it to me. But if you heard my question, I’d like a chance to rephrase it.”
“I’m pretty sure I would have answered if I’d heard one,” she said breathlessly, her heart starting to soar. “When—did I miss it?”
“Last week, and thank God you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
She swung around with a gasp. “Excuse me?”
“I mucked it up, darlin’. You would have been too angry to say yes.”
He obviously wasn’t talking about what she hoped he was, if she would have been disturbed by what he’d said. She’d rather not get angry with him ever again, so she wasn’t going to ask him to repeat whatever he’d mucked up.
Instead she said, “About that rephrasing?”
He grinned and put his arms around her. “I’d get on my knees for this, but I don’t trust these floorboards to risk—”
“Yes!” she squealed, and threw her arms around his neck.
He leaned back with a chuckle. “You’re supposed to wait for the question.”
“Go ahead, but my answer is still going to be yes.” She smiled.
“So you guessed that I love you?”
She grinned. “It’s nice to hear it, but I had my suspicions.”
“Did you now? And that I want to marry you?”
“That I wasn’t so sure about—until now.”
“I do, darlin’,” he said tenderly. “It was agony fighting with you, and for that you can’t imagine how sorry I am. But it’s even more agony being apart from you, and it didn’t take long to find that out.”
“I don’t feel whole without you either. I’ve loved you for so long.” She giggled happily. “Even when I thought you were a ghost.”
“I was never—never mind. Just tell me how soon we can marry. Today can’t be soon enough for me.”
“My mother will want to arrange it. We can’t deny her that.”
“If you insist.”
“And you should probably formally ask—”
His hands cupped her cheeks, his words brushed her lips. “Will you marry me, Judith Malory?”
“I meant ask my father.”
He groaned, placing his forehead against hers. “I would do anything for you, but you must know I’d rather be shot than ask his permission—”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve already given it,” Anthony said from the open front door.
Nathan immediately stepped back from Judith to demand, “How long have you been standing there, Sir Anthony?”
Anthony was leaning against the doorframe, relaxed, as he replied drolly, “Long enough.” But then he straightened. “Just so you know, Tremayne, the only thing I had against you was that my baby was falling in love with you. I wasn’t ready to accept that yet, it was too bloody soon, but I’ve had it beaten into me that there’s no accounting for when, merely that it’s happened. So you’ve my blessing, for what it’s worth. But if you ever hurt her or make her cry again, I’ll bloody well kill you—just so we’re clear on that.”
Judith was grinning. “Go away, Papa, we were about to kiss.”
“No, we weren’t,” Nathan assured Anthony.
Judith grabbed the front of Nathan’s shirt. “Yes, we were.”
She started it, but he soon forgot they had an audience, embracing her fully, kissing her deeply. But she couldn’t quite lose herself with a parent in the room. She didn’t let go of him though, just ended the kiss so she could lay her cheek on his chest, a happy smile on her lips.
“Is he gone?” Nathan whispered after a moment.
She bit back a giggle to peer around his shoulder. “Yes. You will get used to him, you know. You’ll probably even become great friends.”
“Somehow I don’t see that ever happening. But as long as he doesn’t visit us too often.”
“He might, at least for a while. He’ll want to see for himself that I’m going to be blissfully happy here. He’s not going to just take my word for it. But it won’t take long for him to believe it.”
“But he won’t want to reside in this house when he visits, will he?”
“Probably.”
“Then I won’t repair the guest rooms.”
“Wait—”
“No.”
“But there’s something you don’t know about me. I’m rich, and I don’t mean my family is. I have my own money and a lot of it.”
“And why does that warrant a ‘wait’?”
“Because you have to promise me you won’t be like my father. He refuses to let my mother spend any of her own money on things that are needed. It quite infuriates her.”
“You had me at ‘don’t be like your father.’ I bleedin’ well won’t be like him.”
“So I can decorate our house?”
“I love the sound of our. Yes, to your heart’s content, darlin’. As if I know anything about decorating.”
“And furnish it?”
“Don’t press your luck.”
She laughed. Compromising with him was going to be fun. She brought his lips back to hers to prove it.