She turned and slowly tracked her gaze around the ruins of Carno Castle. This was a decision not just for today, but for future generations of the Morgan family. A family that she desperately wished to make hers.
Chapter Nineteen
From the upper floor of the stone gatehouse, Rhys watched Wister. She stood for a short while where he had left her. Her hand was to her mouth, which he took to be a good sign. Wister always adopted that particular pose when she was deep in thought. It meant she was taking her time and giving serious consideration to his question.
Carno Castle had been in the Morgan family’s possession for over six hundred years, but what had once been a powerful fortress was now little more than a crumbling ruin. Rhys loved the place—it was part of his soul. Morgan family blood had been shed on Carno’s dark soil.
He cracked open the window and let the chill air in. Down below, Wister was now pacing back and forth across the old castle bailey. Her steps, marked out in the snow, were even and measured.
What on earth are you doing?
When she stopped and pulled out her trusty notebook from her coat pocket, he smiled. She was doing exactly as he had asked. Measuring, checking, calculating how much it would cost to bring the castle back to life.
His smile disappeared as she slowly shook her head and put the notebook away. She had barely written in it.
Rhys had his answer.
Your history lies in this land, but your future is elsewhere
Chapter Twenty
Wister made her way up the narrow winding staircase to the top floor of the gatehouse. She took her time, knowing that as soon as she and Rhys were together again, he would press her for an answer. Carno Castle or Kington House?
He was waiting for her in the doorway of the grand hall. Rhys ushered her inside and closed the door. From the hooks and markings on the wall, she guessed this had once been the main living quarters for the castle guards. The room itself was not much bigger than the dining room at Kington House.
He shrugged as their gazes finally met. “When the family moved here following the castle’s destruction, some wit decided this room was large enough to be called grand.”
If she had not been in such a pensive mood, Wister may have thought the remark worthy of a chuckle. But she was more concerned with Rhys’s reaction to what she was about to say. “Before I offer up my opinion, I want you to understand that I do not have an attachment to either here or Kington House,” she said.
“Exactly. That’s why I want your opinion. It won’t be clouded with emotion.”
Wister pulled the book from out of her coat pocket and set it down on a nearby table. She opened it and placed her finger in the middle of the page where she had written but a scant number of notes. “If you sell Kington House and try to restore Carno Castle, it will likely bankrupt you. The money from your English estate will barely cover the costs to restore the outer walls, roof, and possibly the first floor. It will also leave you with little to no income.”
Rhys nodded. “Go on.”
“Having worked at Kington House for over three years, I know it has solid potential. If you could get the estate to generate an ongoing cashflow, it would allow you to fix up the house. That does not mean that you would abandon Wales completely. You could use some spare money, if and when you have it, to keep up the maintenance on your Carno holdings.”
It all made sound business sense to her, but it would mean Rhys having to give up on his dream of restoring his ancestral home. Only clear logic would help to soften that blow.
“I’m sorry, Rhys. I can tell by the way you talk about this place that it means a lot to you. And if it were my family home, I too would want to save it. But the reality of the ravages of time has to be faced. You cannot saddle future generations of the Morgan clan with the expense of trying to maintain Carno Castle.”
If Rhys took that prideful route, it would make the castle a burden for his children. As Wister saw it, he had a duty to preserve their financial inheritance and give them options. She knew a great deal about living a life without choices.
“Thank you, Wister. As always you make clear and reasoned sense. So, we pack up most of my things and take them back with us to Kington House. Our new life together will be in England.”
Wister closed the notebook. The time had come to force Rhys’s hand. He either finally confessed his love for her or she gave notice. She refused to ever again live a half-life. “I can help to get Kington House back in order, after which I will leave. You need to marry at some point, Rhys, and it wouldn’t be fair on your wife, for me to remain at Kington House. I love you, but not even for you will I live the life of a fallen woman.”
He sighed. “Once again I have muddled my words and made them come out all wrong. Wister, I am not offering for you to be my mistress…Just a minute…Did you just say you love me?”
Wister nodded. “Yes, I did. You baffle me at times, but I love you, Rhys Morgan.”
He quickly rummaged around in his coat pocket, then finally produced a small brown box. He handed it to her. “I love you too, Wister. Perhaps this will make things clearer.”
With tremulous fingers, Wister took the box. Her pulse began to race as hope flared in her heart.
He loves me.
“Open it,” he said.
The box and its top were joined by a spring which creaked as Wister lifted the lid. Inside was a round silver brooch of ancient design. She ran the tip of her finger over the top of the markings which decorated the jewel.
“The pattern is meant to represent the Welsh dragon. If you look closely, you can see the dragon’s scales,” said Rhys.
“It looks very old,” she replied.
He gently took the box back from her and removed the brooch. Wister fought back tears as Rhys opened her coat and pinned the trinket to the top of her gown.
“It is a priceless Morgan family heirloom. My mother used to wear it.”
“Oh, Rhys, I love it.” A soft kiss met her lips.
“And I love you. I should have said it before we left England. I just wasn’t sure how you would take hearing those words, and then they got all tangled up in my mind.”
Rhys dug into his pocket once more and went down on bended knee before her. He held up a ring. Wister placed her hand over her heart at the sight of the incredible piece of jewelry. The band might have been plain gold, but the glistening emerald which sat atop it was nothing short of stunning.
“Marry me, Wister. Be my baroness. My wife.”
Wister slowly blinked, mesmerized by the fiery glow of the green stone. “Yes. Yes. Oh, forever and always, yes,” she finally replied.
Rhys took hold of her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. He got to his feet, softly chuckling. “I finally got something right.”
Hot tears sprang to her eyes as the heady mix of relief and joy course through her. “Yes, you did. Everything is perfect.”
Rhys wrapped her up in his embrace and held on tight. Wister sent a prayer to heaven that he would never let her go. This man was the one thing she had been waiting all her life for—her soul mate. She would never again be alone in the world.
Wister glanced at the ring on her finger. The emerald was set above a gold flower. Like the brooch, it was old—another Morgan family treasure.