Page 56

I t took a good part of the day to reach Wood Grange and the sun was sitting low in the sky as Silas headed along the long drive up to the estate house.

His body sparked with nervous energy, the long train ride not having dissipated any worries he had about speaking with Ophelia.

He moved steadily onward, passing along hedgerows and fields as familiar as the back of his own hands.

The ancient oak that marked the turn past his family’s house and down toward the big house loomed ahead, and Silas felt grateful he had seen his mother so recently.

The weight of the tenancy had been a heavy one, and it felt wonderful to know that Samuel and his mother were tucked into their house, safe and secure as they should be.

He couldn’t wait to be able to visit them again without the spectre of Blackwood hanging over them.

Right now, he needed to find Ophelia and tell her that he loved her.

The words he had been turning over in his mind the entire train journey ricocheted around his chest like caged birds.

This desperate aching need to be near her, to watch her work and laugh, to touch her whenever she was within reach.

It seemed so obvious now; how could he have mistaken it for anything else?

He laughed aloud, his voice ringing in the country afternoon, and did an awkward little jig step, his body suddenly impossibly light.

Passing under the oak, he lengthened his stride, covering the distance to the main house as quickly as possible.

He arrived at the front door slightly out of breath and thinking it unlikely any of the staff was still about, turned toward the high green hedge that enclosed the kitchen garden at the side of the house.

The wooden plank door in the hedge opened on silent hinges, but when he let go of the handle and stepped through, the door swung wide and crashed into a stack of terra-cotta pots, toppling them with a smash.

A shriek drew his attention. On the bench under a window, nearly hidden by the wisteria slowly taking over the first floor of the house, was Ophelia, her knees still drawn up to avoid being hit by the avalanche of pots.

She looked horrified, her cheeks hot, her eyes reddened.

“Fee?” Silas stammered, caught off guard. Relief crashed through his body and it took every ounce of restraint not to crush her to him.

“Silas!” she cried in surprise and bolted up from her seat on the bench.

“I know you don’t need me here, but I had to see you, Fee,” he said, still trying to find his bearings. Words rising to his lips almost faster than he could think them through. “The longer you were gone, the less I could bear that you were facing this task without knowing ...”

She walked toward him. “Without knowing what?”

He tried to recover some of his composure, but his heart was banging at his ribs and he didn’t think he had ever seen anything as beautiful as Ophelia standing in this abandoned kitchen garden.

She had disposed of her WLA uniform and wore a grey pinstriped skirt he recognized from before.

An embroidered shawl hung loose around her shoulders, a whitework blouse buttoned primly up the side of her elegant neck.

He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek so badly his fingers itched.

The stood awkwardly for a moment before Silas remembered what he had come to say.

“I’ve had almost a fortnight to think and I realized how wrong I’ve been; I haven’t been able to let go of the idea of protecting you, clung too hard to what’s past. I was afraid this injury had broken me, that I couldn’t protect you, and what good was I then?

It blinded me to what I can offer; companionship, a champion in equality, a promise to withstand the storms beside you.

I can shield your dreams, help you with the privilege of this body, scarred as it is.

Until women’s bodies and minds command the same respect as men’s, I will use mine in your stead. ”

Silas took a deep breath and met Ophelia’s eyes. She was watching him, taking everything in, her grey eyes cloudy and uncertain.

“The thing is, Fee ... I don’t care about the land, certainly not the way I care for you. I’ll walk away and not look back, we can start somewhere new ... anywhere you choose. You are everything to me. I love you.”

He felt her gasp and then her hands were reaching for him, and she was looking at him, surprise and joy warring in her eyes.

“This summer you taught me we can make anything we want, a family, a farm, a partnership, or nothing at all but two bodies pressed together for a space of hours.”

“Silas,” Ophelia breathed, tears pooling in her eyes.

A silvery trail snaked down one cheek and slid into the crook of her smile.

“Say it again. Say it all again.” She laughed and reached for the collar of his coat to pull him toward her.

“I don’t want what your parents or mine had, and you’re right that I don’t wish you to live like a shadow, hovering around me in case something goes wrong.

It will, probably many, many times and all I want is you right beside me, facing it all together. ”

Silas leaned forward, his mouth millimetres from Ophelia’s, feeling the warmth of their breath mingling between their mouths. “I can do that. I want that,” he whispered.

She let go of his lapel to reach a hand up to his face, pushing a few strands of hair back off his forehead, then running her palm down the plane of his cheek and along his jaw. He growled in satisfaction, wanting to push into her cupped hand like a house cat.

“Come here,” she said and pulled him to her, arms surprising and strong around his back.

Silas laughed and wrapped both arms around her, feeling his blood leap at the long, lithe body pressed eagerly against his.

“God, but I love you, Silas Larke. Thank you for coming all this way to tell me,” she said with a glorious smile.

“I’d go to the ends of the earth, Fee. Truly.”

“I know, but luckily you only had to go across Somerset.” And then she pressed up on her toes and kissed him.