The mask dropped from Griffen’s face as he let out a long breath, his eyes angry. Trapped. I knew what that looked like. I saw it in the mirror often enough.
“No, I don’t. No offense.”
“None taken,” I said, automatically, lying only a little. I knew what I was. My uncle’s boring lackey. I wasn’t hideous, wasn’t stupid, but there was nothing particularly appealing about me either. Nothing that would attract a man like Griffen.
“What do you get out of it?” he asked. “The prestige of being the lady of Heartstone Manor?” There was laughter in his voice.
I let a small smile curve my lips. I hadn’t changed that much. “Sure,” I said, “I’ll start throwing tea parties and join the Junior League.”
“Then why, Hope? Why haven’t you walked out of here yet? What does Edgar have on you?”
So many years away, but Griffen still remembered how things worked around here. Layers of loyalty and history, secrets and lies. My motives were simple. I didn’t have any secrets, no lies to protect, but I did have loyalty. Loyalty and a lifetime of debt.
I owed Griffen. I owed Uncle Edgar. I owed this town. “When Uncle Edgar brought me home, this town was good to me. You and I are the only thing standing between Sawyers Bend and Bryce.”
Griffen barked out a laugh. “Jesus, when you put it like that—”
“You know what he would do. If anyone could burn through the Sawyer fortune, it’s Bryce.”
He was exactly the kind of idiot who’d buy himself a dozen Lamborghinis, throw a million at the roulette wheel just because he could, who’d sell off everything for one more dollar to spend.
Alexander Braxton Sawyer had founded this town after fighting in the Revolutionary War. Some of these families had been here just as long. Griffen’s great-great-grandfather had built Heartstone Manor as a gift for his beloved wife. A gift that was now a piece of American history. If we said no, all of it would fall to dust.
“It’s only five years,” I said.
Griffen took a step closer, crowding me with his body. I’m tall, but he was taller—much taller. “You realize Harvey said it has to be a real marriage. You didn’t miss that part?”
He caught the shiver that ran through me at those words. His eyes flared, and I stepped back before I could stop myself. I jerked my head in a nod and looked down to see my hands fisted at my sides.
I’d cross that bridge when we came to it. If I tried to think what a real marriage with Griffen Sawyer implied, my head would explode.
“We don’t have all day,” Griffen commented, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you need time to think?”
I shook my head. There wasn’t anything to think about. We could pretend we had a choice, but both of us knew the truth.
“I guess the only question is will you marry me, Hope Daniels?”
I looked up into Griffen’s sea green eyes, so familiar and so distant, and said the words I never thought would cross my lips. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Griffen Sawyer.”
Griffen gave a brisk nod and left to call Harvey back in. We took our seats at the table again and carried on as if nothing momentous had happened. Calmly, I read and signed the prenup Harvey put in front of me as a part of me was completely freaking out.
Stop! What are you doing? Don’t sign that! Run, run far, far away!
I couldn’t listen to my fears. I had to do this. I didn’t have a choice.
“So,” Harvey said, reviewing my signature, “did you discuss your witness?”
“What about Miss Martha? Was she still working for dad?” Griffen asked, mentioning the Sawyer family housekeeper. Harvey was shaking his head in a negative as I bit back a laugh.
“Miss Martha quit four years ago,” I told him.
“If you could get her to come back, I’d agree to Miss Martha.” Harvey made a note in the file in front of him.
“Would you approve of Savannah?” I countered. From what I knew of how things had gone down with Prentice and Miss Martha, she wasn’t coming back. Her daughter Savannah had worked in the house when she was younger, and she might be willing to take the job.
Harvey thought it over. “I’ll agree to Savannah. If you can talk either of them into taking the job, send her to me and I’ll get it set up. Things are a mess over there.”
“What does that mean?” Griffen asked, but Harvey only shook his head and went on.
“I took the liberty of having Clary from the Register of Deeds office bring over the license. Judge Wilcox will be here in five minutes. We’ll do the paperwork and get this taken care of. The ring is on you,” he said to Griffen, who nodded.