Married in Haste (26 page)

“Even the one about the lady in the lake?”

He smiled. “Especially that one. Another story Father told me was of the Tylwyth Tegs who danced every night on a bridge; the movement of their tiny feet is what creates the bubbling of the stream.”

“Tylwyth Tegs?”

“Fairy people.” He tapped the drawing of the bridge with one finger. “This is the bridge he spoke of. I knew it the moment I stood upon it and heard the sound of the stream over the rocks. Later, I asked one of the shepherds if he had heard of the Tylwyth Tegs. He told me he’d even seen them dance.” Brenn’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “It was like coming home, Tess, to a place where I knew I belonged.”

She took his arm. “Let us walk the distance, too. I want to see Erwynn Keep as you first saw it.”

She expected him to be pleased. Instead, for a moment, he seemed ready to deny her request and then he kissed her, once on the forehead, the second time on the lips.

Passion rose up inside of her, just as it did every time he was near. She realized with a shaky start that he was her home. Wherever he was, was where she was meant to be.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I know you do, Tess, and a lucky man I am.” But he didn’t tell her he loved her.

Brenn didn’t know if walking the path leading to Erwynn Keep was a good idea. He needed her to be in the best mood possible before finally confronting her with the truth.

However, she was adamant especially after her first glimpse of the picturesque village.

Erwynn Keep’s village seemed to have been frozen in time. Roses in full bloom climbed the stone fences and up the gray stone walls of the cottages with their slate roofs. A person could easily imagine knights in shining armor and fine ladies riding through its narrow street.

Tess breathed out a sigh of satisfaction.

Cedric Pughe, the blacksmith, was not at his forge but his wife stood alongside the road talking to a neighbor. Her children played with several others. They all stopped and stared as the coaches drove past, scattering a group of chickens who had ventured out onto the road.

Word of Brenn’s return would spread through the village in no time.

At the bridge, Brenn signaled Tim to halt the horses and climbed down from the coach before helping Tess down.

“What is it, my lord?” Tim asked.

“Take the coaches on,” Brenn ordered and gave him directions.

The expression on Tim’s face let it be known that he thought they were a bit daft to be wishing to walk the last mile, but Tess laughed adventurously. She’d let Miles out of his basket and he followed them.

She stepped onto the wooden planks of the bridge with anticipation in her eyes. “This is the bridge where fairies dance.”

She untied her bonnet and removed it before tilting her head and listening. Water burbled over the rocks beneath the bridge as the stream made its way to Llyn Mynydd. “I can hear them,” she whispered.

A quacking started and she bent over the stone wall railing to watch baby ducks swim around their mother. Laughing, she turned to him. “This is really a lovely place. I was so afraid that it would be like that other village, but it’s not. It’s not like any other place I’ve ever been.”

She leaned back against the railing. “What we need is a swan swimming with the ducks. Would that not be the loveliest thing, Brenn?”

For a moment, Brenn couldn’t speak. In the soft light of a dreary, overcast day, she was like a ray of sunshine shooting through the clouds. The children had stopped their playing and craned their necks to look at her. He could see their mouths turning to round O’s of admiration.

At this moment, Tess was like a child herself, full of enthusiasm and the joy of life. “Come,” she demanded, already starting up the road. “Show me everything.”

He followed with less eagerness.

Wildflowers budded in the grass along the side of the road. She paused to pick some and giggled when Miles decided to chase a butterfly.

Her shoes weren’t the best for walking but she didn’t seem to mind. She took his arm and the two of them strolled as if they were in Hyde Park and not the heart of Wales.

He remembered walking this distance the first time; then, he had been a battle-weary soldier. As if in sympathy, a pain shot through his leg.

“Are you all right?” Tess asked.

“Fine.”

“But your leg?”

“Is fine.”

She obviously didn’t believe him but didn’t press the issue. In reality, it was nice to have someone fuss a bit about him. It was—he searched his mind for the right word—it was domestic.

They turned onto the drive leading to the house. Tess stared up into the pine boughs. “I didn’t realize it was like a canopy over your head.”

And she shouted with delight at her first glimpse of the lake through the trees.

Brenn steeled himself for the moment of truth. It was taking more courage for him to make this little walk with his wife than it had to face a company of French dragoons.

They passed his uncle’s cottage. It was a rambling affair built into the hillside. Across the way from the cottage, a distance off the road, was a huge barn. Several paddocks were built around it and there was a small pond. A cow lowed in the distance as if welcoming them. Tim and Clarence waited by the coaches there.

Over on the far hillside was a flock of sheep. “Those are mine,” he told her.

Tess nodded, uninterested in sheep. “Where’s the house?”

Then they turned onto the piece of road leading toward the lake.

Tess stopped. Her gaze searched the skies and the mountain. The lake reflected the heavy gray of leaden clouds. The Black Mountains loomed around them.

Brenn waited, wishing it could have been a brighter day.

She spoke. “Why, it is almost pagan.” She looked at him. “Do you understand my meaning? It’s bold here and uncompromising.”

Yes, he understood. He’d felt the same sense of awe in the face of this majestic, seemingly uncivilized country.

But his grin faded as he realized he must now tell her the truth. He held out his hand, hoping for the best.

“Come.”

They only needed to walk a hundred feet further for her to see the crag of land jutting out of Llyn Mynydd. On its summit was the skeleton of a house, two stories high. It had walls a foot thick but no door, no windows, no roof.

Willa came down from the barn with questions but Brenn waved her off. This was his moment with his wife.

He waited. She didn’t say anything. Taking her hand, he guided Tess to the lichen-covered granite steps leading up to where the front door used to be. Miles climbed along with them until he saw something move in the grass and he hied off in pursuit of it.

Tess grinned. “I think he likes it here.”

Brenn didn’t answer. Instead, he stopped on the top step and turned her so that she could have the full impact of the view overlooking the lake.

“It’s breathtaking,” she said, before innocently looking up at him and asking, “But where is the house?”

“Here, Tess.”

“Where?”

Brenn gently turned her by the shoulders in the direction of the ruins. “This is it, Tess,” he said in her ear.

“You have to use your imagination. It doesn’t look like much now but come a year’s time, there will be no finer house in Wales. I promise you that.”

“A year’s time?” she repeated blankly. She glanced around her, her gaze following the walls and taking in the stone stairs leading to the second floor. And then understanding came upon her swift and sure. “This is Erwynn Keep?”

“Yes.”

Tess rocked back against him. “But the drawings…I thought it was a full house with doors and windows.”

“It has doors and windows,” Brenn said. “They just aren’t filled in yet.”

She shot him a look that said his wit wasn’t appreciated. She placed her gloved hand on the pitted red limestone of the doorway.

“The rock is from a quarry around here,” he hurried to say. “We can get the slate tiles for the roof from the same quarry, too.”

She didn’t utter a word in reply. Her footsteps echoed on the slab floor. The earth beneath the slabs had shifted, and now grass and weeds grew here and there. Then she pointed to the staircase. “Is it safe to walk up there?”

“Yes. The foundation is solid…although the floor must be redone. We will lay a new stone floor and then overlay it with wood mosaic. I saw it done that way in a French chateau.”

When she didn’t comment, he added, “They haven’t built houses like this in years.”

“For a reason,” she noted dryly. “I imagine all of this stone is cold in the winter. It makes me wonder how the nuns kept warm.”

Brenn interpreted her small jest as a good sign. She was growing accustomed to the idea. He relaxed a bit.

She started up the stairs. “I take it the dragon weathervane doesn’t exist either?”

He followed her up the stairs. “Cedric Pughe, the local blacksmith, says it can be done. He has my design.”

Tess poked her head into one room and then another. The back wall of the third had caved in and the room had a clear view of the stream winding its way to the lake.

She started down the back stairs. “How many years has this house sat abandoned?”

“Two hundred,” he answered.

She turned. “But I thought you said your grandfather moved back here. And your uncle lived here.”

“I didn’t say my uncle lived here.” He pointed to the floor. There was no longer any purpose in evading the truth. “The family lived in London until two generations ago. Unfortunately, my grandfather was a gambler—a terrible one. He was caught cheating at cards and lost almost everything when his markers were called in as a result. For that reason, the family was forced to leave London.”

“And they moved here.”

“Yes, and built that barn you saw on the way in.”

“Ummm hummm.”

“But they didn’t have the money to rebuild the house.”

“So where did they live? Where will we live?” Tess asked.

“The little cottage.”

She took a step away. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that, but if you are going to rebuild the house…?”

“I am.” Brenn straightened, feeling hopeful. She was taking this very well. He had expected her to demand to be returned to London immediately.

He took her hand. “Tess, this house has wonderful possibilities. Plus, we can correct the mistakes that were made years ago.”

“What mistakes?”

“Like the location of the kitchen.” With renewed enthusiasm, he pulled her to the back of the house. “The kitchen was located in an out-building because of the heat of the fire, but of course we will modernize.”

He kicked a stone, which skittered across the floor. “I propose that we put the kitchen on this floor where the dining room and breakfast room will be. Right between them.”

“Between them?” Tess frowned. “In London, the kitchens are below stairs.”

“Yes, but the food is never hot. If we place the kitchen between the two rooms that use it—”

“Then you will find the smells of roasting things will completely overwhelm the house.” Tess walked through the rooms to be used as dining room and breakfast room. She turned. “Could this wall come down?”

Brenn walked over. “Of course. We can make any changes we like. Expanding the house is a definite possibility.”

“What if we built a cooking wing off of these rooms?”

He considered her suggestion. “It could be done.”

“If we do that, we move the kitchen out of the path of guests and the family but we’ll also have the convenience of it on this level.”

“You’re right!” He grinned. She was as challenged by the project as he was. “Do we want to build up another story above the kitchen? Maybe a workroom of sorts?”

“No,” Tess said. “I’ve heard the newest kitchens are being designed with the ceiling built with glass so that light comes through.”

“Then that is what we’ll do,” he agreed. “I’ll take some measurements and do some sketches. You can pick out the kitchen you like best.”

Tess bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know that much about kitchens.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Tess. This is our house. We can do whatever we wish.”

The worst was over. He’d confessed the truth—and she had accepted it.

With adorable shyness, she looked around the dining room. “My mother’s dining set will look good here.”

“Come look at the sitting room.” She had to skip to keep up with him. “What do you think of in here?”

Tess walked into the middle of the room. “The view is beautiful. It would be nice to have large windows to take advantage of it.”

“We can do that. We can put in window doors. All I need to do is knock down more of the wall. I thought a terrace like Lady Garland’s would be nice here, too, so we can sit and enjoy the lake. I might even be able to fish from up here.”

“I don’t want fishing off the terrace,” she decreed before pointing to a corner close to the front window.

“My mother’s harpsichord would be perfect here. And there is a lovely rug among her things that would look beautiful in this room. I couldn’t believe Stella when she wanted to throw it out.”

Brenn came up to his wife and put his arms around her waist. “This will be a grand house.”

“When do we start work?” she asked eagerly.

“As soon as possible,” he said. “Of course, I must wait until I receive certain lines of credit but it shouldn’

t take long.”

“Lines of credit?” A frown appeared between her eyes. “I hope it won’t take too long. I don’t know if I will like living in that cottage.”

“You will. It’s very cozy,” he promised. Now that he had confessed his secret, his hunger for her was stronger than ever. Her arms came around his neck. He pressed close, his arousal thick and strong between them.

“Once your funds are available,” he said huskily, “we can start work on the house.”

Tess jerked away slightly. “My funds?” Her voice rose on a touch of panic. “What of your money?”

He hated this question, but steeled himself to give the honest answer. “I used what I had to make the cottage livable and to pay for my trip to London.”

She stared at him as if she’d been frozen in time. He could see himself in the pupils of her eyes. “Tess, is something wrong?”