by K. Sterling
“It’s pretty wonderful but it’s not as great as finding my soulmate and getting to make him happy for the rest of my life,” he pointed out and Alastair smiled as he pulled Byron through the door, toward the bed.
“You’re my greatest achievement too,” he said as he gathered Byron’s face in his hands and kissed him slowly and with enthralling tenderness. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I had enough patience but I managed to stick it out,” he added and Byron gasped then slapped him on the stomach hard.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s still early,” he warned and Alastair grunted and laughed as he hugged his stomach.
“You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. Insanity was your best grounds for divorce and it looks like I might be sane after all,” he said then became serious as he pulled Byron close. “You are the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me and if you’ll be patient, I might actually deserve you one day.”
“I can be patient,” Byron murmured as he brushed his lips against Alastair’s, letting them slide and cling as he twisted his hand in his tie. “As long as you start taking your clothes off right now.”
Chapter 38
-Excerpt from The Daily Post
Forthcoming Marriages
His Lordship, the Thirteenth Earl Waldeford
is delighted to announce his engagement to
Dr. Byron Granger of Gresham College and Harvard University
-Excerpt from London And Country Magazine
“The wedding of Alastair Frederick Percival Antal Bahnam Fiennes-Hatton, the Thirteenth Earl Waldeford and Dr. George “Byron” Granger of Gresham College and formerly of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, America, was an elegant yet reserved and intimate ceremony. The couple exchanged vows in St. George’s Church early last Saturday morning in a curiously exclusive and carefully guarded service. Members of the Royal Family, several of his lordship’s staff and academics from both of Dr. Granger’s universities were in attendance at the cathedral but photographers were not permitted access. Both grooms wore matching navy tuxedos and exchanged moving hand-written vows. A reception followed at Waldeford House and while photos have yet to be released, sources describe a surprisingly casual affair. Steak and ale pie was served with a 1961 Chateau Latour and a Cheap Trick cover band performed the couple’s first dance with Dr. Granger spontaneously performing part of the song as a serenade for his lordship. We are told his lordship was moved to tears and wild dancing. The newlyweds are currently visiting his lordship’s home in the Mediterranean for a week then leave for a private yacht cruise on the Nile. Sources close to the couple describe them as radiantly happy and obviously soulmates. We at London And Country Magazine extend our congratulations to his lordship and Dr. Granger.”
-Excerpt from The Daily Post
“…the astounding revelations in Dr. Granger’s translations cast new light into the heart and mind of Bede the Venerable and reminds us of his contributions to early English history. Almost as fascinating as the love story surrounding the rediscovery of Bede’s works are the hymns and poems contained in some of the six journals Granger presented to Gresham College. They are an unusual glimpse at the wit, creativity and imagination of one of England’s most prominent yet mysterious historical figures. Granger’s translations have been described as “Beautifully faithful,” and “…giving actual breath to Bede, allowing him to reach us through the centuries and delight us.” When asked about the response to his discovery, the resulting translations and his plans for the future, Dr. Granger was less illuminating. “I never gave any thought to anything beyond finding and translating them. It’s frightening to imagine what’s on the other side of your life’s work, what’s waiting for you when it’s done. I knew the world needed to know they were there and what was in them, figuring out what the world would do with them wasn’t part of the job. It’s odd, being interviewed about Bede or his journals. I know so little about them beyond the basic facts, at the end of the day, I’m just the man who found them and translated them. That’s it. I didn’t write them and I don’t know more about him than the average historian.” Academic critics disagree. Granger’s translations of Bede’s newly discovered journals have been hailed as a profound and articulate historical treasure and are already being added to theology curriculums around the world. “I think that speaks more to the original content,” Granger insists. “Completing those translations was one of the most satisfying achievements of my life. But that had much less to do with Bede and the journals than I ever expected. They were a labor of love but not in the way I dreamt they’d be.”
Epilogue
“I’m going to find you and when I do, you’ll be sorry,” Alastair said as he strolled into the library. He ducked to see beneath the sofa then turned at the sound of a giggle. His eyes narrowed as he scanned and a wolfish grin tilted his lips when he spied tiny toes peeking from beneath the drapes. “I think I’ll open the door and check the terrace,” he announced loudly and there was another muffled giggle. Alastair roared as he dove for the drapes and there was a maniacal squeal and a tornado of curtains and sheers before Delilah darted around the sofa.
“You can’t catch me!” She cried as she dashed across the room and Alastair reached as he lunged but she slipped through his fingers. He followed her as she ran down the hall and through the open french doors and out onto the terrace. Her bright red curls bounced and streamed behind her as she skipped down the steps and Alastair stopped for a moment to catch his breath as she laughed over her shoulder.
Delilah glowed in the soft morning sun as she twirled and danced around the fountain in her favorite princess dress. Her tiny, chubby hand pressed against her lips and she blew Alastair a kiss before she disappeared behind the roses. Alastair’s hand spread across his chest as he tried to keep his heart from bursting through his ribs. He heard her call for him and laughed as he jogged down the steps after her. A ribbon fluttered in her hair as she ran down the rose lined path toward the lake and he had to stop to pick a flower. He put it between his teeth then sprinted after her.
She was scrambling up the steps of the folly when he caught her and she shrieked in delight as he spun her then settled her on his hip. Her arms wound around Alastair’s neck and he felt a swell of pure joy and fierce and absolute love as she kissed his cheek loudly. His soul was soothed and the painful scars of his past healed and faded just a little bit more, every time she kissed his cheek or said she loved him.
Alastair wasn’t prepared for the bond he shared with Delilah but it was instant. One of Byron’s friends from college offered to be a surrogate and they both provided sperm but it was obvious that Delilah was Alastair’s. She had his mother’s red hair, bright green eyes and tiny nose. It was like holding a piece of himself, the first time he held her. All the things within him he feared and avoided were conquered and cleared away. It was as if his heart turned over and he was new.
“I found the prettiest flower in the garden,” he declared as he tucked the soft pink rose in her hair and Delilah’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed his neck.
“Thank you, daddy!” She whispered and he shook his head as he took her hand in his then twirled them and began to waltz.
“Isn’t she the most beautiful flower you’ve ever seen, Byron?” Alastair asked and his heart skipped as Byron looked up from his book and smiled.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” he agreed and Delilah reached for him as Alastair lowered onto the sofa next to Byron.
“Can I pick flowers for Mrs. Canter?” She asked and Byron gasped.
“I think that would be lovely!” He said then kissed her nose.
“Don’t pick anything with thorns and don’t disturb the bees,” Alastair said as he wound a curl around his finger and kissed it.
“I’m going to pick blue flowers,” Delilah declared. “They’re her favorite and they don’t have thorns,” she added and Alastair nodded.
“The bees don’t seem to like those a
s much. I think that’s a very sound plan,” he said and she kissed his hand before she squirmed out of Byron’s arms and took herself off to pick flowers. Widowed at a young age and childless, Mrs. Canter forgave Byron and was delighted to act as Delilah’s adopted grandmother. She moved from London to Waldeford Park when Alastair closed his office to work from home. Alastair insisted on building a large, luxurious summer house for her on a secluded corner of the property and Delilah often spent her afternoons with her. When Stapleton wasn’t visiting.
“I have a surprise for you as well,” Alastair murmured as his arm closed around Bryon’s shoulders and he pulled him close.
“I love surprises!” He said as he turned in Alastair’s arms and pressed his lips against his. Alastair hummed as he pecked at them. He might see if Mrs. Canter could keep Delilah for a few hours.
“It’s in my pocket,” he whispered then traced the seam between Byron’s lips with his tongue. He must have passed through the apple trees on his way to the temple to read. Byron looked over his shoulder and purred as his hand slid up Alastair’s thigh then slipped into his trouser pocket. Alastair groaned as he slouched and shifted so Byron could reach deeper. Byron’s teeth scraped along his lower lip and his pupils spread as his fingers danced over Alastair’s erection.
“I found something but your pocket’s empty,” he said and Alastair grinned.
“Coat pocket,” he clarified and Byron rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
“All you had to do was ask,” he grumbled and Alastair nodded.
“I plan to. Check the pocket,” he ordered and immediately regretted it when Byron pulled his hand out of his pants.
“Our anniversary isn’t until next week,” Byron pointed out and Alastair pulled his lips in to keep from laughing or grinning like an idiot. He still couldn’t believe six years could pass so quickly or that his life could be so perfect. Six years was a string of mornings filled with singing and flirting in the bathroom, afternoon naps and walks around the lake and romantic, sensual nights that often ended with peace and laughter.
“Your gift arrived this morning and I didn’t want to wait,” Alastair said as he sat back and lifted his lapel. Byron pretended to disapprove as he reached into his coat. His hand pressed against Alastair’s chest and his fingers dug into his pec as their eyes clung before he found the pocket. Alastair cleared his throat softly as he glanced at the garden. He’d message Mrs. Canter about keeping Delilah for a long lunch date as soon as he could think clearly.
“This?” Byron asked as his fingers curled around the pocket watch and Alastair nodded. He pulled it out and gasped. “Alastair!” He cried as his thumbs glided over the sapphires on the front of the case.
“You’re not getting much use out of the estate’s jewelry collection so I decided I’d have some pieces made for you. I took the stones from one of the bracelets,” he explained and Byron looked slightly appalled.
“These have to be worth several thousand dollars!” He complained and Alastair winced. If he was that bothered over the outside of the watch…
“Let’s not worry about the money,” he said as he waved and Byron’s lips pulled tight before he looked down at the pocket watch. He opened it and blinked at the inside of the cover and his head tilted as he read the small fragment of parchment paper beneath the protective glass.
“Please tell me this isn’t actually Bede’s handwriting,” he said and Alastair sighed as he looked out at the lake. He knew he’d fuss.
“When I donated the journals to Gresham on your behalf, I stipulated that a small portion of the most damaged page would be returned to the Waldeford estate to be kept as an heirloom,” he stated and Byron nodded.
“I remember…” He said then gasped. “Is this?” He asked as his eyes filled with tears and shimmered. Alastair winked as he pulled Byron’s hand to his lips.
“Technically, the watch belongs to the estate but you may keep it in your possession for as long as you live,” he said and Byron cried his name as he threw his arms around his neck.
“It’s so beautiful!” He sobbed against his neck and Alastair sniffed as his nose tickled and his eye stung.
“I wanted you to have a piece of the journals. You refused to let me keep them from you and I would have nothing today, if you hadn’t worn me down,” he whispered. He didn’t trust his voice. “I spent so long hating Beldon and Bede for his bloody journals but they gave me everything, they gave me you. I love you, Byron.”
“I knew they were waiting for me and I knew I’d find a treasure when I found them,” Byron said as his lips skated along Alastair’s jaw. “I found you and everything I’ve ever wanted.” His lips brushed against Alastair’s and they tasted like apples, tears and joy. Alastair kissed him tenderly then laughed softly.
“Thank you for being such a stubborn pain in the arse.”
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