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“I promise you will have pride of place, Sister,” said Delia in a gentle voice. “Thank you for everything. Your wise advice was so valuable to me.”

The nun put a hand to Delia’s face, smiling kindly. “I am just so glad that my misgivings about Mr Hartfield were wrong,” she said. “It seems that when faced with the prospect of losing, you he realised how precious you are to him. It was not a minute too soon.” She took a deep breath. “You have found your soulmate, child. Do not ever let him slip away.”

And then, she waved goodbye, heading to her new convent at long last.

Delia turned to watch Ambrose clapping Mr Giles on the back, looking overcome with emotion. The other man’s eyes were filled with tears. He looked overcome, as well.

“Thank you,” said Ambrose to the man. “I could not have saved her without your help.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” said Mr Giles, waving his hand dismissively, but he looked pleased. “The man and his dog were both cowed and made no more trouble after I bundled them into their carriage. Good riddance to them.” He took a deep breath, staring at Ambrose intently. “Just you make sure that you look after that lady of yours. Treat her like gold. For you never know when it will all be over, Hartfield.”

Ambrose nodded. “I will. I never intend to let her go now that I finally realise what she means to me. Every moment is precious. And I will treat her like gold. I know how lucky I am.”

Delia felt herself go pink with pleasure listening to the exchange. A warm glow infused her entire body. He had never betrayed her, as that terrible man had claimed. He hadn’t sold her for thirty pieces of silver. He had never known what Jack Baldwin was intending to do. And now, she felt ashamed that she had ever doubted him in her anguish.

When she had seen him running towards her when that dog was about to attack, physically throwing the beast aside before it savaged her, she knew how he felt about her even before he had said the words. She had felt his fierce love. He had been willing to die for her if necessary.

“I expect you at my factory next week,” said Ambrose to Mr Giles, fixing him with a pointed look.

The man laughed. “Very well.” He was silent for a moment. “My drinking days are over now. No more time to wallow in misery. My Nell and Sarah would want better for me. And I am determined to live a good life in their honour.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Ambrose in a gruff voice, clapping him on the back again.

Mr Giles turned to Delia. “I always knew you were a lady,” he said in a gentle voice. “And I hope you can live the life you have fought so hard for. Heisa very lucky man, you know.”

Delia laughed, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. The man turned pink. Then he raised his hat to them both and walked away.

They were alone at last. Or as alone as they could be at a crowded coach juncture.

Ambrose turned to Delia, taking both her hands. “You can stay with me for the night at least before we get you your own lodgings until we are married,” he whispered. “Let’s go home.”

***

Delia lay back in the hot bath, gazing at the pressed metal ceiling. She felt languid and deliciously tired. It had been a long, arduous day. An exhausting journey. But here she was, in Bradford at long last.

Here she was in Ambrose’s beautiful, sprawling mansion in a fashionable area of the town. She had never dreamt when she had stepped onto that shabby coach at the crossroads in Surrey, dressed in Minnie’s plain gown, that this awaited her at the end of this journey.

A man she loved. A home. Her life and her home forever now.

She sighed as she closed her eyes, leaning back further, watching steam lazily curling towards the ceiling. Then smiled dreamily as she felt cold hands from behind reaching around to caress her.

She opened her eyes, turning slightly to face him. His dark eyes were warm and darkening with desire.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” she laughed breathlessly.

“So do I,” he grinned, reaching for a sponge to wash her back. “I reckon work can wait for a few days.”

“Where have you taken Ambrose Hartfield?” she teased. “For surely a new man has taken his place!”

His grin widened. “Ifeellike a new man. And you are the one who is responsible for the metamorphosis, Lady Cordelia.”

She made a face. “Don’t call me that. I am not Lady Cordelia any longer.” She paused. “I cannot wait to become Mrs Hartfield. That is who I wasalwaysmeant to be. It seems you have made a new woman out of me, as well.”

“I cannot wait for you to be Mrs Hartfield either,” he said, his hand trailing over her back. She shivered with delight. “I will get in contact with your father tomorrow and inform him of my intentions. I will ask for his blessing but be quite adamant that we will marry without it.” He paused. “But in the spirit of reconciliation, I am going to offer him equal or more to what he was going to get from Lord Stanton for your hand. That should pacify him.”

Delia gasped, sitting up in the bath. “You would do that?”

He nodded. “Of course. Money is no issue, and I will think it money well spent if it appeases him, and he does not cause us any trouble.” He hesitated. “And it will mean that your ancestral home and his good name are saved as well, Delia. He will not end up bankrupt and penniless.”


Tags: Meghan Sloan Historical