Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"You little traitor," I tease, scooping her up as punishment. Her small body squirms with giggles, her legs kicking playfully against my chest, the dress bunching up as I hoist her higher.
"How could you betray us like that?" I ask with mock anger, as I drop her little body to the ground and start tickling her relentlessly. She starts squirming, begging, screaming, and shrieking before she gives in to uncontrollable laughter. Frances too, laughs joyfully in a way I have never heard her do. The whole library becomes alive with our laughter.
Freya is still panting and gasping when Dora comes in with a tea tray. She sets it on the side table and pours tea into a cup, adds a slice of lemon to it and takes it to Frances. She asks if I would like a cup, but I refuse. I have to go outside in a minute to check on the workers. She offers Freya a choice of buttery shortbread biscuits or animal-shaped strawberry jam cookies.
Frances thanks her, then turns to me as Dora leaves and shuts the door quietly behind her.
“Carolyn, come and confirm some last-minute details with me before you head back outside. The florist called about the arches—peonies or dahlias for the entrance? We haven’t concluded.”
Freya runs towards the tray and grabs a cookie.
“Of course,” I say, wiping my hands on a rag. "I’m happy with peonies if you are.”
“That would have been my decision too,” she says with a smile. “You’ve become quite the little painter, haven’t you?
“I'm just looking for ways to try and calm my nerves a bit—painting helps."
Frances pauses, her cup halfway to her lips, surprise flickering in her eyes. “You? You’re nervous? But you've done a great job, dear. The event's coming together nicely, I have to say, much better even than usual.”
Her words warm me. "Thanks, Frances—that means a lot. I think it’s the hosting on that night that’s worrying me. All those people.”
“Oh, you’ll be just fine,” she dismisses. “If memory serves, that’s what you excel at."
All warmth I might have been feeling dissipates instantly. Carolyn would have been in her element hosting a glamorous charity event. I’m not sure I can step into her shoes so effectively. I glance at Freya. She is humming to herself as she nibbles at a cookie and paints a blob that might be a flower.
“Well, I guess I better go out there and see the progress."
Frances nods, and rising slowly with the help of her cane, she goes out, the wood tapping on the wooden floor. Through the tall windows, I watch the tents going up by the lake beyond, white sailcloth billowing in the breeze.
It's peaceful here, the library's hush wrapping around us. Truly, now more than ever, I can't understand what Carolyn was so unhappy about. How could she have hated this wonderful family? This amazing life she had? The beauty of the sprawling estate. The cuteness-overload nature of Freya. The quiet but strong support of a mother-in-law like Frances, and a husband who is passionate and devoted.
This is the kind of home I've dreamed of since I was a kid without one.
Chapter Forty-Nine
BLAKE
The party is in full-swing. The garden has been transformed into something out of a dream under the twilight sky. String lights strung through the oaks twinkle like stars, casting a soft golden glow. Over on the lawn, more than two hundred guests mingle in clusters. Their voices bubble up over the gentle strum of the string quartet playing Vivaldi's "Spring" near the fountain.
Tables covered in ivory linens dot the grass with centerpieces of peonies and hydrangeas. Altogether it's going well, certainly better than Carolyn expected. For some weird reason she worried day and night about this one, but she needn’t have. It’s the kind of seamless event that makes the Bessant name shine. But my mind is only half on the goings-on, as I scan the crowd, that low hum of anticipation building in my chest.
Then she appears…
Carolyn steps out from the house onto the terrace, and I fucking can't take my eyes off her. Everything and everyone else literally fades to a blur. My breath catches sharp in my throat as she descends the steps, the black floor-length gown hugging her curves like liquid night. The fabric shimmers all the way down to her ankles, where strappy heels peek out. It's a deceptively simple number with a deep V-neck, but it makes her look like a goddess.
She's breathtaking, hair loose in waves. She begins to greet some guests, and I feel that pull, hard and insistent. My cock goes tight and hard as I watch her move. She is graceful and confident. She's always belonged in this world, but now she seems to fit right in even more with a new softness that draws me to fall deeper and deeper in love with her.