The Lightkeeper's Ball (37 page)

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Authors: Colleen Coble

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BOOK: The Lightkeeper's Ball
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“Would you get out the basket in the back of the plane?” he asked Lady Davenworth. When she nodded, he rounded up an armful of dried-out driftwood and began to build a fire. He fetched the kerosene lantern and lit it. When he turned around, she had shucked the hated overalls. Her hair had come loose from its pins without the leather cap. He could only stare.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Not really. It’s all too exciting.” She raised her arms over her head and lifted her face to the sky. “We’re still alive, Harrison.”

He grinned. “Are you ever going to tell me your name? I can’t call you Lady Devonworth forever.”

She paled, then smiled. “I rather like hearing you call me Essie.”

It was a grand opening to tell her how he felt, but he didn’t have the nerve. Not yet. “I don’t smell anything, do you?” he asked. “No poisonous gasses.”

She shook her head. “Just the sea.”

“Let’s take a walk and eat later then.” He held out his hand and she took it. The way she wrapped her fingers around his in such a trusting way made him smile.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked. Her other hand went to her hair.

“No,” he said. “I’m just enjoying your company.”

She squeezed his fingers. “It’s been a lovely day.”

They reached the hillside by the remains of the lighthouse. “Shall we sit?” he asked, indicating a flat rock barely visible in the quickly falling darkness. The lump in his pocket seemed bigger, more important. When should he pull out the box? Before he told her how he felt or after?

She settled on the rock, and he sat down beside her. “I like being with you,” he said. He wasn’t good with smooth words. He cleared his throat. “I’m not saying this very well.” Maybe his gift would say it better than he could. He slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out the ring box. “I have something for you.”

Her attention went to the velvet box, and she went very still. She shifted on the rock, and he couldn’t tell if she moved a bit closer or farther away. She offered no cues on how to proceed. His fingers were all thumbs as he fumbled to open the box. Now that his proposal was in front of him, he realized daylight might have been a wiser choice. Lamplight wouldn’t reveal how lovely the ring was.

He succeeded in prying open the top. The ring sparkled against its black velvet backdrop. Tiny black and white diamonds circled the most magnificent white diamond he’d been able to find. When she gasped, he took heart. “I wanted to give you something no one else would have. Do you like it?”

“I-It’s beautiful,” she said. She reached for the ring.

“Allow me.” He lifted it from the slit in the box and took her left hand. Her fingers were cold. Maybe this had been a mistake. She was likely to laugh in his face.

But she didn’t. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth trembled as she stretched out her fingers. He took that as an invitation to slip on the engagement ring. The light from the lantern sparkled on it as she turned it to and fro.

“I’m not good with words, my love, so let me just get this out.” He swallowed hard. “I want our engagement to be real. I know I don’t deserve you, but no one will cherish you like I will. I’m asking you to trust me. To believe in me. To be by my side as we make a life together.”

Her lips parted and he waited to hear the words of rejection he feared were coming.

The engagement ring took her breath away. So did Harrison’s words. Olivia stared at the glittering diamonds, then into his face. His eyes were brighter than the diamonds, more compelling than the comet she’d come out here to see. The pain of knowing that his love would fade when he discovered she was one of the hated Stewarts dimmed her joy. Was it possible his love could withstand the reality of her heritage? When they left this magical place, she had to tell him. It would either all end or he would find it in his heart to look past the Stewart name.

She wetted her lips. “Are you saying you love me?” she whispered. The wind whipped a strand of hair across her face, and she pushed it away so she could study his expression. Surely that was love in his eyes?

He rubbed his forehead. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Not exactly,” she said, smiling. “I’d like to hear those words though. I’ve been waiting days on them.”

He lifted a brow and a grin broke the worried set of his mouth. “I love you. I love the way you have to figure everything out. I love your optimism and how smart you are. You make me want to be better than I am.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a way with words,” she said, her voice husky. She cupped his face in her palms. “I love you, Harrison. I’d be honored to be your wife forever and ever.”

A flash of light caught her attention and she looked up, dropping her hands. “Oh look, it’s a meteor shower!”

The heavens were a display of fireworks like she’d never seen. Falling stars arced across the sky as they plummeted toward the ground. When she glanced back at Harrison, his face was tilted to the sky. His profile was strong and her soul filled as she looked at him.

He turned toward her, and she knew her whole heart was in her eyes. He palmed her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her lips. Her eyes closed when he leaned forward. His lips pressed against hers, and she exploded with feelings she’d never experienced. Heat swept over her skin, and she pressed closer to him, winding her arms around his neck. She wanted to be closer to him, closer than to anyone.

She couldn’t think beyond this moment. Nestled against him with passion arcing between them, she had no concept of time or place. Just the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of his mouth, his arms holding her close. When he broke away, she made a sound of protest and tried to pull him close again.

He sprang to his feet and raked his hand through his hair. “We should be getting back.” His voice shook.

As her cheeks cooled, she realized she’d lost her head. She’d totally forgotten propriety. A lesser man would have taken advantage of her innocence. Her trembling legs barely supported her as she slipped off the rock and put her hand in his.

“Can we see the comet?” she asked.

She focused on the heavens and tried to calm her ragged breathing. The sky was filled with stars, some brighter than others. The meteorite shower had ended. She saw the Big Dipper and Orion. The bright northern star was rising. She gulped and dragged in oxygen. What had just happened between them?

He looked up into the sky. “We were supposed to be able to see it, but all I see is Venus.”

She’d seen stars when he kissed her. She’d like to experience that again, but the heat in her cheeks still surged when she touched his hand. “We haven’t talked about when the marriage will take place.”

He tucked her hand into his arm. “I think as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Her cheeks flared again once she understood his meaning. What must he think of the way she’d clung to him? Did he think her a wanton woman? Maybe she was. Surely the feelings she’d had weren’t normal. Her mother had never warned her of the way her flesh could respond to a man’s touch. She’d thought the bedroom side of marriage was something to be endured, something that only delivered the children she wanted, not something to be longed for.

An awkward silence fell between them. She wished she knew whether her behavior had frightened him off.

His fingertip touched the moisture on her cheeks. “Are you crying? I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just love you so much. I’m afraid I lost my head a bit.”

He
was apologizing when it should be her? “Did you think me overly amorous?” she asked. “I shall try to behave better the next time you kiss me.”

His choked laugh was cut off as he gripped her shoulders in his hands. “Please don’t change a thing.”

His mouth came down on hers again and the same passion swept her up in its wake like the tail of the comet they’d heard so much about. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed against him.

He pulled his mouth away but hugged her close. Her ear was over his heart and she could hear it going crazy. His reaction to her was just as strong as hers was to him. Her hand crept up to touch his face, and his heartbeat marched double time. She nearly laughed. He wanted her too. What a relief to realize she hadn’t made him want to run from her.

By the time they flew back, her hair had come loose from its covering. Harrison landed the plane on the field, and Jerry rushed to help her down. She pushed her hair out of her face and steeled herself to tell Harrison the truth on the way back to the manor.

“You need to get home,” Jerry said. “Your mother took a spill from her chair.”

Harrison stilled. “Is she hurt?”

“A lump on her head, but she’s been fretting for you since your father is still away and will be gone at least another week.”

He’d be gone for the ball. Olivia managed not to smile.

“I’ll go right there if you can take Lady Devonworth home.”

“I’m going that way,” Jerry said, flashing his grin.

Harrison brushed his lips across Olivia’s forehead. “Sorry, honey.”

She watched him walk away. She could savor his love for another night.

Harrison found his mother abed when he stopped by her house. He assured himself she was all right, brushed a kiss across her brow, then left her to rest. He paused in the hall and glanced at his father’s office.

Since Lady Devonworth had mentioned her doubts about his father’s dealings with the Stewart fortune, Harrison had determined to find out the truth.

His mother’s butler motioned to him. “Sir, your fiancée called. She was checking on your mother and also asked you to call on her if it’s not too late tonight. She said she needed to speak with you.”

“Thank you.” He waited until the butler went through the door to the kitchen, then Harrison went down the hall to the office and shut the door behind him.

His father’s office was sacrosanct. No one came in without an invitation. No one sat in his father’s chair, and it was all Harrison could to do to circle the desk and settle onto the leather cushion. No papers marred the surface of the polished desk. He tugged on the lap drawer and it slid open. Nothing there but pens and ink.

He methodically went through every drawer and examined every paper. Nothing was out of place until he picked up a notebook. He flipped through it and saw that the sheets were empty. As he closed it, he noticed impressions on the blank pages. Looking more closely, he realized some pages had been cut out.

He grabbed a pencil and put the notebook under a light. Using a light stroke, he smudged the paper with the impression. A signature began to appear.

Marshall Stewart
.

Over and over, all down the page. The signature was the same. It varied in small ways, but the bold handwriting showed up as though someone had practiced writing the name. The only reason for that would be
 
.
 
.
 
. forgery.

He closed his eyes briefly. His fiancée’s fears were true. Harrison’s father had orchestrated all of this. She had to know about this, but he didn’t want to tell her. Not after this evening. Not after the acceptance and love he’d found in her arms. What if she didn’t believe he had nothing to do with it?

But if she loved him, wouldn’t she believe him? He cut out the incriminating page, folded it, then tucked it into his pocket. He’d put it in his office and tell her about it when he saw her. Honesty was best.

If his father had forged the will, what else had he done? Harrison opened the drawer that held the business books. The men had owned a diamond mine in Africa, and his father had just purchased a second one. Upon his marriage to Eleanor, the Stewarts were to receive half the income from the second mine. He studied the rows of numbers. Both mines appeared to be incredibly profitable, but hadn’t Lady Devonworth said Mrs. Stewart’s money was gone? With her share from the one mine alone, she should have been extremely well off.

Harrison rubbed his forehead. Could his father have been cheating the Stewarts? Had he misled them as to their financial condition to force them into agreeing to a marriage between him and Eleanor?

He flipped through the remaining pages of the ledger, but they were empty. He lifted the receiver on the telephone and instructed the operator to place a call to Mr. Grayson. When the phone rang and he was connected, he told the attorney what he’d found.

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