by Donna Alward
She nodded, wiping the tears away from below her eyes.
He sat on the bed next to her. “What the hell happened?”
“He proposed.”
Stephen sat back a bit. “He did? Huh.”
“I know you gave him the ring.”
Stephen held out his hand and gave her the box. “Yes, with Maman’s approval. What I don’t understand is why you obviously said no and are now crying in your room about it.”
“I don’t understand, either!” She started to sob and he slid forward, putting his arm around her. “Why is it so hard to trust someone? To believe that he loves me?”
“Oh, sweetheart. Shall I give you a list?”
She chuckled through her tears, making a snorting sound. He straightened her up and looked directly into her face. “I am not the right one to answer that question. I’m hardly biased.”
“I get it,” she whispered. “I understand why you were so upset when your engagement with Bridget ended. I had something similar happen to me years ago, Stephen. Someone I thought I loved who was more interested in the Pemberton name than in me.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much that hurts. Why did you never say?”
“I didn’t want to upset the family. Cause drama. Anyway, you had Gabi leave you, as well. So yeah, I get you not trusting.”
He frowned then. “Look, with Gabi it was different. Part of why I was such a git was because it was a stupid plan in the first place. We were foolish to think we could marry to solve our problems. She’s far more suited to William. But it does go to show something, Charlotte. That marrying for anything but love is a bad idea.”
She sighed then, slightly comforted. “But how do you know? How do you trust that someone won’t let you down?”
He rubbed her arm. “You don’t. People are human and occasionally let each other down. But that brings me to the next entry on my list—Maman and Father.”
Charlotte looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I know they had their share of arguments. They were two strong personalities with strong opinions. But have you ever seen anyone love harder or better? They set an almost impossible example to follow. And we Pembertons are a stubborn lot. If we can’t do it the best, we don’t want to do it at all. Because Pembertons don’t fail.”
“Except we do. All the time.”
“Precisely. So really, the only question is, do you love him?”
Her insides trembled. “I do. It’s the scariest feeling I’ve ever had in my life. I’m always the girl with a plan. Only now I don’t have a plan. And I’m still scared, Stephen. I’m scared of what he does for a living. I’m scared to take that leap only to lose him. How do I survive that?”
“So you’re willing to give up a chance at happiness just because sometime down the road he might possibly get hurt? Only you can decide if the risk is worth the reward. But I know you love him. And the way he spoke last night... He loves you, too. That doesn’t mean there won’t be obstacles. Maman is the better person to talk to about that. Do you think she would give up all her years with our dad if she’d known from the beginning that he’d die first?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.”
“It just seems to me that you have a chance to have what you want and you’re too afraid to reach out and take it when it’s offered.”
“He called me a coward.”
“I’ll beat him up for you.”
That made her laugh.
Stephen patted her knee. “Come down for dinner. And then take some time to think. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d propose today. I guess Jacob isn’t the kind of guy to waste time.”
No, because she knew to Jacob time was precious. Oh, there were so many feelings bubbling up within her that she didn’t know what to think or do. But the idea of dinner appealed. She’d barely eaten, and she desperately needed something normal to help clear her mind a bit, sort out all the threads of her thoughts. “I’ll meet you down there. Thank you, big brother. Wise counsel comes from the strangest places.”
“Hey, easy when it’s you. I’m not good at taking my own advice, though.”
When he left, she got up and went to put the ring box on top of her dresser. It was then that she noticed the small Aurora bag. It hadn’t been there before. She picked it up and inside was a white box tied with black ribbon.
And inside the box was a butterfly pendant on a chain, the bright gems sparkling in the spring sunlight filtering through her windows. A small note was tucked in beside it, and she put the necklace down gently and picked up the paper.
Picked this up in New York. It reminds me of you.
Don’t let anyone clip your wings, Charlie.
Love, Jacob
He’d bought it in New York, back when they’d barely known each other. That day at the store? Perhaps... It was the only time they were apart during the trip. Even back then he’d had her on his mind, he’d seen into the deepest part of her and her longings. And now, when she’d hurled such horrible accusations at him, he still left her with words of love and encouragement.
He’d once said that he didn’t deserve her. That he was wrong for her. But it was the other way around. She didn’t deserve him.
Holding the butterfly in her hand, she wept into her pillow.
* * *
Jacob put his duffel down in his office and let out a big breath. This last trip had taken him to Egypt for a week, and he still felt dusty and hot. And tired. What he wanted was a shower and a steak, in that order.
And a drink. Maybe several. Being back on English soil only reminded him of Charlie, and he was still smarting from their last encounter. She’d disappointed him. Even though he understood every one of her fears, he’d hoped she’d rise above them and say yes. What a fool he was. What a stupid, romantic fool.
He chuckled mirthlessly as he sat in his desk chair and spun a little, surveying the otherwise empty office. No one in his life would ever accuse him of being romantic, but here he was, being what his men would call a “sad sack.” Truth was, he was thirty-seven years old, and he’d given up the thought of a wife and family. Until Charlie came along. He could forget again, right? Build Wolfe Security up, maybe open a second and third office elsewhere. In the United States, maybe. Somewhere in the European Union.
The front door opened and he straightened, immediately alert. Was it Charlie, maybe? He rose, only to discover one of his logistical staff, MJ, was back to grab something they’d forgotten for the weekend.
“Sorry, boss,” they said, retrieving their backpack. “Can’t believe I left this here. Good trip?”
“Good trip,” he replied, attempting a smile. “Hot.”
“Not great for having a delayed flight, either, huh? We expected you a few hours ago. So did someone else, who came looking for you.”
“Who?” He sat up straighter.
“A woman, dark hair, pretty. About my age.”
Since MJ was still in their twenties, he couldn’t stop his heart from wondering if it was Charlie. “Did she leave a name?”
MJ shook their head. “But she did say she’d come back later, that she’d probably head to the pub to wait. She didn’t say which pub, though.”
He knew which one. “Thanks, MJ.”
“Have a good weekend, boss.”
When they were gone, he got up from his chair and paced. What was she doing here? Dare he hope? Or perhaps she was just delivering the agreement he’d suggested she have drafted. He closed his eyes. He had to deal with her sometime. The job in Mansoura had been a distraction, but now that he was back, Charlie and their child was all he could think about.
He grabbed his bag and headed upstairs for a quick shower. He didn’t even wait for the shower to run—hot water was overrated—and in five minutes he was dressed and downstairs again, trying to sort out in his brain what he
was going to say.
And when he opened the door, he jumped back when he saw her standing there, her hand raised to knock, a startled look on her face.
“You were at the pub,” he said, then wondered if he could sound more like an idiot.
“I was. And then I thought I’d try again. One of your staff said your flight had been delayed.”
“A couple of hours, yeah.”
She nodded. And then he clued in and stepped back. “You’d better come in.”
She stepped over the threshold carefully, looking around. “This really is a lovely space,” she said quietly. “The last time I was here it was dark and I didn’t really look around.”
“Thanks.” He wanted to ask why she was there, but figured she’d get to it eventually.
She bit down on her lip. “I, uh, can we talk?” Her hazel eyes slipped up to meet his. “The last time... We didn’t leave things very well.”
It hurt to see her, right in the middle of his chest, but he had to figure out a way to deal with it, for their child’s sake. “Of course we can. Do you want to go upstairs or go for a walk?”
She smiled up at him. “Would it be odd to say I’d like to sit on one of those benches on the Green?”
“It’s a beautiful afternoon. Of course not.”
He locked the door behind him and they crossed the street, walking along the perimeter of the Green until they found an empty bench. A group of teenagers were having a game of football and their shouts punctuated the air, a pleasant sound that reminded Jacob of childhood summers and a time when life was, if not carefree, at least less complicated.
“Jacob, I’m sorry.” She reached over and took his hand. “I’m sorry for all the things I said that morning in the garden. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for so much.”
His throat tightened. “I...don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll forgive me.”
“I forgave you a long time ago. I forgave you before I ever left.”
“When you wrote the note that came with this?” She moved the collar of her blouse to reveal the butterfly necklace, which winked in the sunlight.
It looked perfect on her, just as he’d imagined. “Yes,” he murmured. “When I wrote that note.”
“But you still left.”
He lifted his gaze from the necklace to her eyes. “I was hurting, Charlie.”
To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. “I know. I’m sorry. You asked and I panicked and I said everything wrong.”
“I’m not sure there’s a right way to say it,” he said, and looked away.
“There were things I should have said, too,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. “Like I love you. Like I’m scared to death. Oh, Jacob, I wasn’t ready for that.”
“Then tell me what you need. I’ve gone over and over it in my head and the only way we’re going to be able to move forward is if we’re completely honest with each other.”
She nodded, blinked away the tears. “You’re right. And you were right that day, too. I threw a lot of stuff at you out of fear, but the truth is I was too afraid to trust in it. That part is on me. What I need from a partner is just...honesty. To know that I—and my child—come first. I know you don’t have an agenda where I’m concerned. In fact, I’m pretty sure the fact that I’m a Pemberton and Aurora Germain’s daughter is a complication and not a perk.”
He smiled then. Honesty and putting her first? Easy.
* * *
Charlotte wasn’t sure why Jacob was suddenly smiling. This was by far the hardest thing she’d ever done, especially considering she was still afraid. Over the past weeks she’d come to realize that guarantees were impossible. That loving Jacob wasn’t something that was going away. They were having a child together. She had no idea what a relationship with him would look like...what marriage would look like, but she had to try.
“Charlie,” he said, his voice warm and sure, “you and our child will always come first. I meant what I said about the past. It’s been far more about guilt than love for a long time. It took you coming along to make me see it. I know this has happened fast, but sometimes you just know. That night, with you, it all just clicked. I walked away because I thought it was what you wanted. But in Paris, I nearly missed my flight to London because I wanted to go after you.”
Her heart leaped. “I wish you had.”
“Me, too, now. But in a way you were right. I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t until I was without you that I realized how deep my feelings ran. In New York you said I was worthy of redemption, but I’d never felt so until that moment. You changed me. How could I not love you?”
“Then why didn’t you fight harder?” Tears did come now, quiet ones, and she dipped her head because they were in public. Maybe this would have been better inside. She’d thought being in the park would preclude this kind of emotion.
“Because I knew it was pointless if you couldn’t trust me. I was hurting, too. I felt like I’d laid my heart at your feet and you kicked it back at me.”
Shame slid into her heart, along with regret, knowing she’d caused him such pain. “You don’t have to defend yourself against what I said that day,” she whispered. “I never should have said it. Especially about you telling Maman about the email. I used it against you, but Jacob, you telling her demonstrates how much integrity you’ve got. I admire it, even if I was angry about it.”
“You were scared. You are scared. You don’t like what I do. I get that, because I went through a lot of sleepless nights as a kid when my dad was on duty.”
“It’s part of who you are. I get that.” The anxiety was real, but he’d helped her step into her own. How could she demand that he be less than he was?
“Maybe, but it’s not all I am. Charlie, any relationship takes compromise. I know that. So here’s what I’m thinking... I stop taking field assignments. If it makes you more secure, I can do that, no problem.”
She hadn’t expected that. She’d expected another version of “I could get hit by a bus” but instead he was ready to make a sacrifice. Was she?
She looked around at the wide green space, thought about how close they were to Chatsworth Manor, and knew she could also easily adjust her life. “You’d do that for me? For us?”
“In a heartbeat,” he said.
Hope started to spiral in her heart. She squeezed his hands and looked into his oh-so-handsome face. “I can base out of London. We could...” She swallowed and hoped that she wasn’t presuming too much. “We could live here. I can keep the flat in Paris for when I need to be there, and we’ll be close to the estate, too. I can do my job from here and videoconference when I need to.”
“You’d leave Paris?”
“Compromise,” she said, and a smile started to bloom on her lips. Was this really going to work?
He slid over closer to her and hesitantly rested his hand on her still-flat tummy. “I hadn’t considered fatherhood before. Now I can’t think of anything else. I want to be with this little one, watch them grow. Can we do that together, do you think?”
The hope that had been growing in her heart expanded into happiness. “I know we can.” She reached into her small purse and took out an envelope. “Look. I got you a printed copy.” He opened the envelope and took out the image of the twelve-week scan she’d just had done.
“This is our baby?”
She nodded, tears threatening again. “I didn’t ask to know the gender. I didn’t know if you’d want to. I kind of hoped that it was something we could find out together.”
“I can’t...this is...wow.” He sat back on the bench, his face full of wonder and awe. “You and I did this.”
She nodded.
“If we did this, we can do anything.”
She was feeling that, too. So she reached down into her bag and took out one more thing.
�
��Jacob? I know it’s a little unorthodox, but... Will you marry me?” She held out the little box that contained the ring he’d proposed with only weeks earlier.
He took the tiny box from her fingers and opened it. Nerves—the good kind—swirled around in her stomach. She’d been so afraid that she’d ruined everything that day in the Chatsworth gardens, but Jacob’s love for her had been bigger than her fear. Maybe that was all she really had to know.
He picked the ring out from the slot and held it in his fingers, then reached for her hand. “Yes, I’ll marry you. The sooner the better. I don’t intend to let you get away again.”
He slid the ring over her knuckle and she stared at it there, then blinked away tears. Her father would have loved Jacob. And her grandparents would have been so pleased. Their own love story had been one for the books—a whirlwind romance during the 1958 flu pandemic, when he’d been ill and she’d been a nurse. They’d married one week after his recovery.
She’d tell Jacob that story one day, but not today. Today was for them.
“I love you,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the bright diamonds.
“And I love you.” He leaned forward and kissed her, in the way she liked best: slow, soft, tender. And then he leaned back and opened his arm, welcoming her into his embrace as they breathed in the early summer air and watched the football game, with everything right in their world.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CHATSWORTH GARDENS were glorious on the first Saturday in June. The immediate Pemberton family was seated in white chairs, waiting for the bride, while butterflies and bees flitted around them, sipping on the showy blossoms.
Charlotte stood just inside the garden doors, her hand firm on Stephen’s sleeve. Stephen, who had nearly cried when she’d asked him to give her away. Bella and Jacob’s father, Ian, were serving as witnesses. The wedding was small, intimate and certainly not what was expected for a Pemberton. But it was exactly what she wanted. The people she loved most in the place she loved most.
“Are you ready?” Stephen asked. “I just got the signal from the officiant.”