Page 11 of Tears of Gold

Chuckling, he tugs me in for a cuddle. It doesn’t matter we are stood in the attic at Bowsley, both of us butt naked—apart from my bra, which miraculously survived his desperate fingers. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but God, I’m glad I did.”

“Feeling better?” I peck a kiss on his lips. I know sex won’t erase his grief, but maybe it will ease it for a moment.

He nods, linking fingers with mine. “I’m sorry I stormed off.”

“It’s okay, you were only one step ahead of me. But we agreed to become husband and wife. We both knew what it was going to be like with your family.”

“I wasn’t expecting my mother to suggest an engagement party before my brother is even buried.”

“She’s crazy. But we knew that.”

“Did you?” His gorgeous face is still for a long moment, serious. “Did you really know what you were marrying into?”

I pause for a moment, choosing my words. I want him to understand. “When I came back to London to find you, it was because I no longer wanted to run. The only direction I will ever run in again will be towards you. No matter what happens. No matter what shit comes our way. That is my promise, as long as we live and breathe, and maybe even after that.”

We watch one another.

Silent.

Our breathing is heavy and laboured.

“I won’t have them trying to scare you off again.”

“Where are they going to scare me off to, Eli? I’ve only got you to go to. You are it. My home.”

“But…”

“No buts. So they can talk about balls, once Peter is buried, whatever. I’ll take it all. Just so long as you keep fucking me against walls and I get to call you my husband.”

His smile is slow, his eyes bright. “I love you.”

“So you keep saying. Now, if you’ve finished this afternoon's activity, I’ve got an idea.”

He lifts an arched, dark eyebrow. “Yes?”

“We are going to see our new home.”

“But it’s Peter’s.”

I grin up at him, pushing my hair out of my face. “Exactly. Jeez, and you’re the barrister.”

His eyes watch me. “You want to go find his friends, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Peter was very private, even I don’t know what went on behind closed doors.”

“Well let's go and find out who your brother was so we can remember him with all the love and honour he deserves.”

Eli’s eyes fill with shining pools of water, but he smiles and blinks it away. “Let's.”

Four

“What the fuck is this?” I’m frozen on the leather seat of the Range Rover, my eyes glued at the view on the other side of the glass. “You know there is no way I can live somewhere like that? I won’t even be let through the door.”

Chesham Place is one of those London houses where the Regency period has stood the test of time. Three storeys with grand white pillars supporting the front portico; it has steps leading up to a huge black front door, with a brass knocker that looks so sturdy knocking could create a sweat. It’s the sort of place you’d expect a foreign ambassador to live in. In fact, I think they do.

“Yep. This is the Fairclough London residence. The heir always lives here, but access is granted to the Baron, or Baroness.”