Between the Devil and Ian Eversea (26 page)
Read Between the Devil and Ian Eversea Online
Authors: Julie Anne Long
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General
What if it
was
a dream? Tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes. To have everything she wanted, and only to wake up, would be cruel.
But she was no coward, and so she stopped and turned.
The expression on Ian’s face turned her knees to water.
“Why are we here, Ian? Shouldn’t you be preparing to board a ship?”
His voice was gentle. “First, I want you to know that Lilymont is yours. It belongs only to you. If you want it. No matter what you decide your future will be.”
Her heart stopped.
“You bought this house . . . for
me
?”
“I bought the house for
us
, but if there is no us, it belongs only to you.”
She stared. “I don’t under—”
“I love you.” He sounded almost impatient.
He delivered the words like a musket shot.
Time seemed to stop. The birds ceased singing.
The words echoed in the quiet garden.
Magic words, those words: she felt them everywhere in her body, slowly, like tiny candles lit one by one in every one of her cells. And then suddenly she couldn’t feel her limbs, or the ground, and she would not have been surprised to look down and see a cloud beneath her slippers.
“What did you say?” she whispered.
Only because she wanted to hear him say it again.
“I love you. I love you. So much it amazes me I’ve managed to live this long without you. I used to think that in order to find peace, I needed to keep moving, to keep searching, until I’d exhausted every corner of the world. But . . . Tansy . . .
you
are the world to me.
You
are my home, and, quite ironically, my peace, though I haven’t truly known a moment’s peace since I’ve met you. Which I quite like. And if you would do me the honor of being my wife, I will always love you better than
anyone
in the world, until our children come, and then I will love all of you more than life. I will devote the rest of my days to doing my best to making you happy. You must marry me, unless, of course, you’d like to see me perish. Will you?”
She couldn’t yet speak. She was memorizing his beautiful face, and the way the light and shadows were just so, so she could savor the memory the rest of her days.
“That was quite a pretty speech, Ian,” she said finally.
“Thank you.”
He looked quite apprehensive now.
“Much more coherent than the one you gave at the ball.”
“Thank you,” he said again, sounding clipped and tense.
Ah, but she shouldn’t tease him.
“What if I said I didn’t love you?”
“I would say you were lying,” he said, and produced her list with a flourish. He dangled it in front of her.
She stared at it openmouthed.
And now she was blushing.
“Falconbridge gave it to me. I have his blessing. So you might as well say it, Tansy.”
She inhaled deeply, reached out and took his hand.
His was shaking a little, but then, so was hers.
Now that he had her hand, he pulled her abruptly close. Up against the sheltering warmth of his body. Wrapped his arms around her. Slid his hands down over her back, as if to claim her, as if to prove that she was real and she was his.
“Say it,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I will be honored to be your wife. And I think the only way my name will ever make sense is if the name Eversea follows it.”
He kissed her to seal that promise. It was gentle, that kiss, and slow, and deep, and it bound the two of them, soul to soul.
When he lifted his mouth and rested his forehead against hers, she whispered, “I think I saw stars.”
“Of course you did. And I will make sure you do. Every. Time.”
I
AN OBTAINED A
special license so they could be married in spring in a modest clearing in the forest that had nothing much to recommend it apart from the profusion of brilliant wildflowers, all of them American expatriates. He had referred to the book in the library and planted even more of them than she had, as a surprise for Tansy.
And all those American flowers made her feel as though her parents and brother were there with her.
A crowd of townspeople gathered to witness the marriage, as did innumerable Everseas, including Sylvaines who rode into Pennyroyal Green for the occasion, and the servants. Reverend Adam Sylvaine conducted the service, and even he couldn’t get through it without pausing to clear his throat suspiciously.
Everyone
wept, for different reasons. Really, said the magnanimous, it was very big of Ian Eversea to take Miss Danforth out of circulation, as she’d caused a temporary insanity.
And every man who acted like a fool was forgiven, since Ian Eversea had clearly acted like the biggest fool of all, and in doing so had won the equivalent of—as he legendarily said—a thousand Sussex marksmanship cups.
“
B
EAUTIFUL SCENERY, DON’T
you think? Such astonishingly colorful flowers. Such a lovely day for a wedding. So warm and bright and clear. Didn’t she look beautiful? I never thought I’d see the day when Ian would agree to be leg-shackled. He even took the promotion for the East India Company, so he’ll be in London part of the time. But she certainly is lively. He’s unlikely to be bored.”
Olivia was nervous. She was prattling inanely, and she
never
prattled, let alone inanely. Landsdowne was so quiet, and it was a full sort of quiet, the quiet of the preoccupied. The quiet of preparation. He was either going to tell her that they were through, that it was no use. Or . . .
“By rights it ought to rain right—”
“Olivia.”
She stopped. And took a deep breath.
“I know you don’t love me,” he said.
She nearly choked. Shocked. “I . . .”
He saved her. “But I think that one day you will. And until then, I would be content to devote my life to making you happy. For your happiness is mine.”
“Oh . . .” And now her breath was lost completely.
He paused and turned.
“Olivia . . . my dear, beautiful, Olivia . . . would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. Her hands went up to her face.
And fell again.
It wasn’t as though she hadn’t known this might happen.
She looked up at Landsdowne.
He had become dear, or he had become familiar, and sometimes those two things were one and the same.
She told herself this.
She didn’t know anymore.
She wondered if she ever
would
know.
It was only one word, she thought. A word upon which her entire future would turn. The word would decide whether or not she had a future. She need only open her mouth and say it.
It was simple as the flip of a coin. She told herself that.
Her heart pounded like a fist against a wall.
“Yes,” she told him softly.
She laid the word down. It felt strangely weighted to her. Like a monument.
Or a tombstone.
He closed his eyes and mouthed,
Hallelujah
.
And he took a long, shaky breath. His face was brilliant with happiness.
And there was that at least: she had the power to make someone else supremely happy, and it was as close to happiness as she’d felt in a very long time.
And maybe one day she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
“I should like to kiss you now,” he said.
“I should like that, too.”
She found that this was true.
He gathered her into his arms.
And in that moment she felt like a girl. It had been a long time, a very long time, since she’d been kissed. And if a tiny corner of her heart where she kept a memory in a dungeon howled betrayal, she ignored it. Lyon wasn’t here, and Landsdowne was, and she was still young.
D
ROWSY, THOROUGHLY SPENT,
happier than any two people on the planet had ever been since time began, or so Ian emphatically claimed, he and Tansy twined their limbs and rested after the fourth bout of married lovemaking in their new home.
“I wanted to give you something when we were alone, Tansy. Close your eyes and hold out your palm.”
“Very funny, Ian. It’s so large I’d have to hold out two palms to hold it.”
He laughed. “Just do it, please.”
She closed her eyes, and he trickled something that felt like a very fine chain into her hand.
“Open your eyes.”
She gazed down into a fine little pool of gold. She used her little finger to scoop it up, and lifted. It was a necklace.
Dangling from it was a tiny gold star.
He was rewarded when her eyes began to shine with tears and then she laughed.
“A gift! Of all things, yet
another
gift from Ian Eversea.”
“I’ve discovered I’ve developed a taste for giving them.”
Wonderingly, she ran her thumb over the tiny, simple, exquisite little star. Not expensive. But perfect.
“It’s etched!”
“Turn it over, Tansy, and read it.”
She turned it over and read it aloud:
“Forever.”
“My favorite word!” she said delightedly.
“Mine, too. It’s
our
word now.”
USA Today
bestselling author JULIE ANNE LONG originally set out to be a rock star when she grew up (and she has the guitars and fringed clothing stuffed in the back of her closet to prove it), but writing was always her first love. Since hanging up her guitar for the computer keyboard, Julie has written books that frequently top reader and critic polls and have been nominated for numerous awards, including the RITA®,
Romantic Times
Reviewer’s Choice, and The Quill, and reviewers have been known to use words like “dazzling,” “brilliant,” and “impossible to put down” when describing them. Julie lives in Northern California.
Visit Julie at www.julieannelong.com
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