He stumbled to a stunned halt. “Bronwyn.”
Her name escaped his lips like a benediction. He must be hallucinating. That was the only possible way she could be here. It was some fever-crazed dream brought on by his need to see her again. Or he was asleep. Yes, that was it. He was exhausted, after all. No doubt he was not standing here with her before him but instead was still at his desk, and had somehow nodded off. And so, dragging in a deep breath, he took the sensitive skin of his wrist between his fingers and pinched, hard.
But no matter the pain, she remained, a veritable vision standing before him. And then she spoke.
“Hello, Ash.”
Chapter 23
Over the past four days, Bronwyn had kept herself fed on a steady diet of determination and pure nerve. Throughout the tedious trip to London with the girls she had not faltered once in her plan: she would seek Ash out, and immediately tell him that they all loved him dearly and wanted to be a family with him.
Now that she was here in front of him, however…
She gazed up at him, her inane words still ringing in her ears.Hello, Ash? That was the first thing she decided to say to him after all these days apart?
He must have been equally stunned by the idiocy of such a greeting, for he continued to stare at her as if he were seeing a ghost. Which could be either positive or negative, depending on how one felt about the ghost in question.
She cleared her throat, losing nerve by the second, painfully aware of the massive gentleman standing behind her, watching their every move. “Er, Mr. Beecher insisted on showing me to your office,” she explained lamely.
Finally, Ash seemed to notice his partner. He glanced up, his eyes narrowing. “Beecher?”
Though Bronwyn was not facing the behemoth of a man, she nevertheless heard the grin in his voice when he spoke.
“I vow, Buckley, I did not ever think I was going to have the good luck to meet this saint of a woman who agreed to marry you.”
Bronwyn flushed, glancing at him. “I assure you, sir, I am no saint.”
A rough bark of laughter escaped Mr. Beecher. “You would have to be to marry this bast—er, fellow. But this is wonderful, Buckley. Now you don’t have to go to her; she has come to you.”
Bronwyn gasped, her gaze flying back to Ash, pathetic hope surging in her. “You were going to return to us?”
She would not have been surprised if he vehemently denied it. After all, while she was achingly aware of how desperately she loved him, she didn’t have a clue what his affections toward her might be, no matter Seraphina’s assurance that he felt the same. It was an uncertainty she had tried with all her might to ignore over the past days. If she thought on it too much, panic and doubt would set in and she would never make it to London and Ash.
Instead of denying that he had any plans to return to Synne, however, he stared at her as if he were a man parched. His eyes roved over her face, skimming her features with a tenderness she had not expected. For the first time since leaving Synne, she truly began to believe they might have a chance together.
“Mr. Beecher,” Bronwyn said breathlessly, not taking her eyes from Ash, “would you mind giving my husband and I a bit of privacy?”
“Of course,” the man said magnanimously, waiting for her to step inside before closing the door behind her. Just on the other side of the panel his bellowing voice could be heard. “Don’t disturb Buckley. He’s got his wife in there.”
Ash winced. “I’m sorry about that,” he managed. “Beecher is not the most fine-mannered person.” Suddenly his voice thickened, his expression turning tortured. “But more than that, I’m sorry, more sorry than you can ever know, for what I put you through those last days on Synne. And that last fight especially, making you believe I looked down on you for remaining unmarried for as long as you did.”
“It does not signify,” Bronwyn replied, the words a mere whisper, even as her heart beat out a healing cadence in her chest, his heartfelt apology like a salve to her soul.
“But it does signify,” he insisted fervently. “No matter it was not my intent, you should have never been made to feel unworthy. You, who are braver and stronger than anyone I have ever known. And I would be proud if Regina, or indeed any of the girls, took after you. It matters not what they decide to do with their lives; the only thing that matters to me is that they are happy.”
Tears burned her eyes. “Oh, Ash. Don’t you know, the one thing that can make them happy is to have you back in their lives?” She swallowed hard, her nerves tying her tongue in knots. Then, taking a deep breath, she forced out the words that needed to be said. “They need their brother in their lives.”
Ash’s face paled. “What did you say?” he rasped.
His reaction was all the verification she needed that her suspicions were true. She took his hand in hers. “Ash, I know what the girls are to you.”
“Do they know?”
“No.”
He swayed on his feet, his relief was so great. Alarmed, she took his arm and guided him to a chair. Once he was safely seated, she continued.
“No, they do not know. I wanted you to tell them.”