Eyes Wide Open
Page 74“That sounds very nice,” he said with another nuzzle against my neck, “but everything about you is my gift.” He held my face with both of his hands as I loved him to do. “How does Mrs. Blackstone feel about leaving here and getting started on the wedding night?”
One second later . . .
“Mrs. Blackstone is so onboard with that plan.”
He held out his arm for me. “My lady, shall we?”
“Did I ever tell you how much I enjoy your gentlemanly manners? Such a contrast with that filthy mouth you’ve got, but man, it really works for me.”
Ethan got a very pleased look in his eyes. “Well, that’s really good to know, baby. I think I can walk that line for you.” His eyes hooded, he drew my hand up to his lips. “I’ll make sure of it tonight.”
Thank sweet baby Jesus. “I have to run upstairs to our room and get my gift for you, okay? I’ll just be a moment.”
He kissed my hand and swirled his tongue in a circle, just above where my ring sat next to the wedding band he’d slipped on my finger during our vows, before letting me go. “I’ll be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs when you come down. I just have to tell Hannah that we’re escaping,” he purred at me.
“God, I love you so much,” I said to him.
“Highly doubtful,” I called over my shoulder, “but I’ll take it!”
I hurried to get the package from our bedroom and was coming back down when I sensed a warmth of feeling. It touched me, wrapping around my body like a cloak in a comforting way. I stopped on the landing where the magnificent Mallerton of Sir Jeremy and Georgina hung on the wall. I loved looking at this painting, and it wasn’t just the subject matter or the execution, which was stunning, it was the emotion expressed in it. There was great love in this family. Sir Jeremy with his blue eyes and sandy hair looked to his lovely, fair Georgina with an expression that just exuded his deep love for her. I don’t know how Tristan Mallerton managed to get it down in paint, but he most certainly had captured the moment between these lovers from so long ago. And it just took my breath away in its pureness.
And then there were the children—an older boy and a younger girl. The little girl sat on her mother’s lap, but she had eyes only for her father. I imagined how he must have entertained her during the long hours of sittings for such a portrait as this. My art training gave me an understanding of the time involved to create a painting of this scale; it would have been immense. A child didn’t look like that unless she felt it. This little girl had loved her daddy, and been loved very much by him in return. Just like me.
I love you so much, Daddy . . .
As I turned away from the painting to go down the rest of the way, I could see Ethan waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase. Just waiting patiently as if he understood I was having a moment and needed my privacy. Ethan seemed to recognize my moods at times like this. And if I really thought about it, Ethan had been the greatest gift my dad had ever given to me.
Thomas Bennett, my precious and loving father, had sent Ethan Blackstone to find me in London so he could rescue me. I now had the rest of my life to be thankful for that fact.
Thank you, Daddy. I looked at the little girl in the painting and felt the connection with her, even with centuries between us. I hoped that Sir Jeremy Greymont’s daughter had enjoyed many long years of knowing her father. Twenty-five years was the amount of time I had been given with mine, and I must accept it with grace for the priceless gift it was.
I refused to be sad in thinking of my dad on my wedding day. He was only a happy thought for me now. He loved me and I loved him. He was still with me somehow, and I was still with him, and nothing could ever take that away from either of us.
“Eyes are closed, Mr. Blackstone,” she said, standing before me. “My package. Give it to me, please.”
I retrieved it from the seat and placed it carefully in her hands. It was light, just a flat black box tied with a silver ribbon. “Ready?”
“I am,” she said.
“Okay, keep them closed, and I’m going to pick you up and carry you.”
“Sounds very traditional,” she said.
“I like to think of myself as a traditional guy, baby.” I scooped her up, careful to arrange her dress so it wouldn’t drag, and started walking up the gravel drive of Stonewell Court. The rocks crunched under my feet and you could hear the sound of the waves on the rocks far below us. It looked amazing and I hoped she liked it. The whole place was lit with torches in old urns, and candles glowing inside glass luminaria on the ground. Even the upper suite was lit up from the inside. Our wedding-night suite.
“I can hear the ocean,” she said up against me, one hand on the back of my neck lightly caressing back and forth.
“Mmm-hmm.” I stopped at what I felt was the perfect place for the unveiling. “Okay, we have arrived at our nuptial destination, Mrs. Blackstone. I’m going to set you down so you can get the full effect,” I warned before tilting her down to stand on her own. I faced her toward the house and covered her eyes gently with my hands.
“Not sure how much sleeping we’ll be doing . . . but we will be here tonight.” I kissed her on the back of the neck and took my hands away. “For you, my beauty. You can open your eyes now.”
“Stonewell Court. I thought this is where we were. I remember the smell of the sea and the sound of the gravel when we walked here. It’s so beautiful I—I can’t believe all this.” She opened her arms. “Who did this for us?”
She still doesn’t understand. I brought my hands to her shoulders and kissed her neck from behind. “Hannah, mostly. She’s been trying to work a miracle for me.”
“Well, I think she has succeeded. It takes my breath away.” She turned to face me. “It’s the perfect place for us to spend our wedding night,” she said, leaning into my body.
I took her face in my hands and kissed her softly, surrounded by the glow of torches and the ocean breeze. “Do you like it?”