She was staring up at him, her eyes searching and fraught, determining if his words were true. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before letting it go. And that was the moment-he watched it happen before his very eyes-that was the moment Eleanora Watters became Eleanora English.
"I'm going to fall in love with you," she whispered. "I'm going to give you the big family you want. I'm going to be sure you never, ever regret choosing me. I promise, Tom. That's my promise to you: I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy too."
"A dream and a miracle," he murmured, drawing her back against him and closing the distance between their lips.
An Interlude
Haverford Park
Christmastime 2015
". . . and he whispered, ‘A dream and a miracle.'" Eleanora English sighed as her daughter-in-law Emily Edwards English handed her another ornament, which she fastened onto a sturdy pine branch. "The end."
The room was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop, and then . . .
"Wait! What?" exclaimed Jessica Winslow English, the wife of Eleanora's third son, Alex. "What do you mean ‘the end'?"
Eleanora turned around to find six younger women-her husband's niece, Kate, plus her sons' wives and significant others-staring at her with their mouths gaping open, in various states of disbelief and indignation. She had invited the girls over for a tree-trimming party at Haverford Park this year, and was enjoying every moment with these smart, funny, wonderful women. When Molly, the brand-new fiancée of her fifth son, Weston, had asked to hear the story of how her future in-laws had met, Eleanora couldn't help indulging them and had been spinning the tale for over an hour.
"The end," said Eleanora again, gesturing uselessly with one hand. "Um . . . the end of the story."
"I don't think so," said Valeria with a little bit attitude. She was the girlfriend of Eleanora's fourth son, Stratton, and the most outspoken of the girls. Eleanora absolutely adored her for it because she'd pulled shy Stratton out of his shell and loved him for exactly who he was. "You can't just end it like that."
"What do you mean?"
Molly cocked her head to the side. "You're really leaving us hanging, Eleanora. Did they move to New York? Did he find a job? Were they happy? What about Evie and Van?"
"Good question," said Daisy Edwards English, her second son Fitz's wife, who had just been upstairs to check on her daughter-Eleanora's first grandchild-baby Caroline. Daisy picked up a plate of homemade cookies from the coffee table and handed them to her cousin, Emily. "We have to know what happened to ditzy, darling Evie! Did they end up together?"
Jessica pursed her lips, turning to Eleanora's niece by marriage. "Kate, did you know your great-grandfather?"
"He sounds like a real piece of work," added Valeria.
"Thankfully, no," said Kate English-almost-Rousseau, looking disgusted. "He died before I was born. But my dad is much younger than Uncle Tom, and they had different mothers."
"Did Tom ever get the money?" asked Jessica, turning back to Eleanora.
Eleanora grinned at her, and Jessica turned her sharp green eyes to Emily. "Susannah's your mother, Emily. Did you ever meet Evie? Do you know how the story ends?"
Emily shrugged, shaking her head. "I can't ever remember meeting someone named Evie. Ad even though I've lived at Haverford Park for most of my life, I promise, I've never even heard this story. Please, Eleanora, you've got to tell us the rest!"
Valeria leaned an elbow on Jessica's shoulder. "No more ornaments until we get the rest of the story, Eleanora."
Molly tucked an errant strand of red hair behind her ear, looking hopeful. Her enormous engagement ring caught the firelight and glistened merrily. "There's a fresh thermos of hot cocoa here. We could take a break from decorating, and you could tell us the rest?"
Emily and Daisy had already cuddled up together on the overstuffed couch, and Molly squeezed in beside Daisy. Kate poured them all steaming mugs of cocoa, and Valeria sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire. Jessica, still standing beside the tree with her hands on her hips, shrugged at her mother-in-law with a saucy grin as she gestured to the armchair by the fire.
"Fine! You girls win," said Eleanora, laughing as she sat down and accepted a steaming cup of chocolate from Kate. "But I warn you, ‘the course of true love-'"
"‘-never did run smooth,'" finished Valeria gently. "That's okay. We still want to know."
Jessica sat down on the love seat next to Kate, and Eleanora took a deep breath, thinking back, remembering what came next. Her eyes teared for just a moment, but she took another deep breath.
"We were falling in love. We were . . . full of hope," she started, letting her memories carry her away.
Chapter 9
Haverford Park
Christmas Eve, 1981
Eleanora and Tom walked back up the driveway toward Tom's car, their hands bound together as gleaming white gravel crunched under their feet. Eleanora's mind was spinning from the decision they'd just made together: Tom had turned down fifteen million dollars-an almost unfathomable sum of money-so that he could give their two-day marriage a chance.
It felt foolish and reckless, and his impetuousness frightened her.
It also made her heart swell with tenderness and her body tremble with longing.
Eleanora had never been anyone's first choice for anything. How in the world did she find herself here-with a man who had, literally, chosen her over diamonds and gold?
Looking up at the austere exterior of Haverford Park, she gulped, counting the sparkling windows nervously as she wondered if Grandfather English was watching them and hoping he wasn't. He was a hateful, hurtful old man who'd judged her before knowing her, and she couldn't wait to get back into Tom's car and leave Haverford for good.
She'd just asked him, What about the money? How can you do this? How can you turn it down for me? And he'd sweetly-and resolutely-answered, I want you more.
Clutching his hand more tightly as they approached the car, she made him stop and face her, ignoring the tears that blurred her vision.
"Are you sure, Tom?"
He glanced up at the old house, narrowing his eyes and tightening his jaw before looking down at her upturned face with such gentleness, she couldn't keep the tears from spilling over the edges of her eyes.
He nodded, using his thumbs to swipe at the wetness before it could wind down her face.
"Positive."
A quiet surge of pure joy lifted her heels from the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. His arms- so strong and so certain, it twisted her heart-pulled her against his solid body, her thrift shop coat colliding with his carmel-colored cashmere.
The kiss lasted only a moment before Tom rested his cold cheek against hers, still clutching her tightly.
"We'll be okay, sunshine. I promise."
"You don't know what it's like," she said softly, looking over his shoulder at a tennis court and a swimming pool in the distance, "to be poor."
"We won't be poor," he said. "I have some savings, and as soon as I get a job, we'll have a decent income too."
"You don't know what it's like to be alone," she pressed on, fearful for him, "without family."
"Believe me, a crotchety grandfather, an ineffective father, and a kid brother I barely know don't constitute a family. Somehow I think I'll get by." He leaned back, grinning at her. "Plus, I have you, baby. You're my family now."
She clenched her eyes shut against the welcome sweetness of his words, rubbing her cheek against his soft shoulder as tears ran over the bridge of her nose and plopped onto his expensive coat.
"Let's go," he rumbled near her ear. "I want to be alone with my family."
She heard the humor in his voice, but also the hunger, and she sucked in a deep breath as she realized how desperately she wanted to be alone with him too-in his bed, underneath his body, sharing the most private parts of herself with him.
"Me too," she said, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes.
"Smile for me," he said, cupping her cheeks in his cold hands. "It's my birthday."
Tomorrow she would think about their future.
Tomorrow she would close the floodgates to the overwhelming waves of emotion that so compromised her common sense today.