Samantha James (22 page)

“My cousin Caro says that love will happen when and where it will and there’s not a thing we can do to stop it. And in much the same way, I suppose, I know that I—I can’t make him love me back. But he needs to be happy again, Ellie. I think you’d want that—to see him happy again…So I’ve decided I must try…”

A moment later, Simon retreated, as quietly as he’d approached. By the time she came down the path toward him, Simon stood on the terrace. His hands clasped behind his back, he turned.

“Come here,” he said quietly.

Anne hesitated, then crossed to where he stood. She held perfectly still as he trailed a finger down the line of her jaw.

“You do know that I would have come after you, don’t you? There’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you.”

Judging from her expression, he had the feeling he’d shocked her.

Catching her hand, he slipped on her wedding ring. Carrying her hand to his lips, he kissed the circlet of gold.

“Never take this off again. Never.”

For the space of a heartbeat, he caught it up tight against his cheek.

There was an uneven catch in his voice.

Anne was stunned to feel a damp, peculiar warmth…

Yet when he raised his head, his eyes were shining and clear, a soft, pure gray. There were no shadows, no darkness, no doubts, no emptiness. Instead they were filled—filled with a wealth of tenderness.

It proved her undoing. Anne burst out sobbing.

Simon closed his arms around her and wrapped her close. Drawing back, he slipped a finger beneath her chin, bringing her eyes to his. His voice was very soft.

“You told me that everything’s been said. But there’s one thing that hasn’t.” He bent so that their lips just barely touched. “I love you, Annie. I love you.”

Anne began to cry all over again.

“Hush, sweet.” He rocked her back and forth against him. “I’ve hurt you so much. I only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Her fingers on his lips stopped the words. She shook her head, her mouth turned up in a crooked little smile. “Simon,” she whispered, “this is what is in my heart…I’ve never loved you more than I do at this moment. And I’ll never
stop
loving you.”

Their kiss was long and lingering. Reluctantly Simon released her mouth, then rested his forehead against hers.

“Anne,” he whispered. “My Annie…I’ll give you everything I have, Anne. My heart. My home.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “My baby…”

Her smile was dazzlingly sweet, dazzlingly bright. “Simon,” she said softly. “You already have…”

Their daughter arrived the following May.

It was just after midnight when Simon helped Anne into their bed. She’d had a nagging backache throughout much of the day, but it wasn’t until evening when her belly began to draw and cramp that she realized what was happening. Simon had a feeling throughout the day that her time was near. Just before dark, he sent for Dr. Gardner.

It was a good thing, too, that they decided not to wait.

Shortly after midnight, clouds began to smother the light of the moon; they gathered in
wait to release their fire and fury. And indeed, it was a night such as they’d not seen for quite some time. A night when thunder raged, and the wind blew wild and fierce and seemingly never-ending. It was a night when the very walls of Rosewood Manor seemed to shiver and shake—and all the earth for miles around.

It was easily the most vicious storm of the year.

And this was the night their daughter chose for her arrival.

But when the storm was over…

Ah, but when it was over!

Simon held his daughter for the very first time.

Wrapped in a delicate lace blanket, she was the most enchanting little creature he’d ever seen—with the exception of her mother, of course. She had fine, delicate features that were a miniature of his own—a tiny little button of a mouth, a dusting of sun-drizzled hair, and a pointed little chin that made both mother and father eye each other and laugh, wondering where on earth it came from!

Simon had stayed with Anne throughout—where else would he have been? Anne held the baby and cradled her close, then gave her over to her father. Simon kissed Anne with a fervor that had poor Dr. Gardner clearing his throat and turning away—then settled in to inspect his daughter.

It was precious, that moment when she was laid in his arms, and one he knew would stay with him forever. Anne was beaming as she eased the babe into his arms. A powerful surge of love and protectiveness shot through him.

Anne smiled mistily, her heart in her eyes, as always.

Simon wanted to shout to the world that all was
right
in his world. Instead he laughed and traced a fingertip over the babe’s cheek. He glanced at the first faint glimmer of sunlight peeping through the curtains, then back to his daughter. He pressed his lips to the golden down of her scalp and smiled.

“Welcome to the world, sunshine.”

They named her Katharine—or Katie—not for anyone in particular, but just because they liked it. And because it somehow suited this tiny little girl who slept blissfully in her father’s arms.

Four years later, it was somewhat different story, for Katie was a bit of a whirlwind. Among a slew of other things, she loved nothing more than whirling around the floor with her mother.

“Dance,” Katie commanded. “Dance, Mama!” Anne swirled her around and around until they were both dizzy and breathless. And if they chanced to stumble, there was always a pair of strong male hands there to rescue both mother and daughter.

And when Katie was joined by her cousin
Margaret—Maggie, as she was called (and who was a scant four months older than Katie)—the two were a veritable tempest.

They chattered. They squealed. They chased after the sheep in the pasture—and chased after Izzie and Jack.

At least, as Caro laughingly commented to Anne one day, they always knew their whereabouts when the girls were together.

There was no doubt the two would be as close as their mothers had been…and still were.

On this particular summer day, Katie and Maggie had been into both of their mothers’ trunks. They’d decided to put on a play in the drawing room. They paraded and pranced, necklines hanging, hems dragging. Katie’s younger brother Jameson dragged across the floor in his father’s boots. Izzie was declaring herself “Mama” to all present. Jack was busy trying to restore order among his siblings and cousins.

Katie had gone to change into yet another outfit. There was an eruption of giggles from behind the divan where Simon and Anne, Caro and John were seated.

Katie rushed out before them, flinging up her arms. “Mama,” she crowed. “Look! Papa, look!”

She had decided to don her mother’s corset over the rest of her costume.

Simon leaned over. “An adventurous girl, I daresay.”

Anne wasn’t sure whether to convulse into laughter or tears. She settled for a moan.

Later that same night, Simon had to shoo Katie and Maggie back into their bed at midnight.

Yet both Simon and Anne thought the house dreadfully quiet when they packed the children off to Caro and John’s home in Lancashire for a week.

It was, however, an opportunity both decided should not be wasted, particularly when a wet drizzle began to fall that evening.

Climbing into bed that night, Anne ran a hand over Simon’s naked chest. “I do believe,” she announced blandly, “that it shall rain at least another three days.”

Simon slipped a hand beneath her nightgown. “Mmmm,” he said with a wicked grin. “We can only hope, can’t we?”

Anne pursed her lips, in utter innocence. “I suppose,” she murmured, “we shall simply have to find something to occupy ourselves indoors. Oh, dear, whatever shall we do?”

Simon’s grin was utterly wicked. “Ah,” he said. “Leave that to me.”