“It’s close by and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“How close?”
“Three blocks.”
She hedged. That wasn’t far, but she didn’t care to risk running into anyone on the street.
“I’ve just been out and no one is walking this early. Please, let me show you something. You’ll like it, I swear.”
“Fine.”
He stood and held out his hand. “Come along, wife. Let’s have some fun.”
Minutes later, they were walking north on Fifth Avenue. One of her arms was linked with his, and she used her free hand to hold up a parasol to block the midmorning sun. Thankfully, he was right about the lack of morning traffic. The sidewalks were empty, with only the occasional wagon or cart in the street.
At Eighty-Fifth Street, he stopped in front of the Xavier house and tilted his head toward the massive property. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
A sprawling Romanesque structure, the speckled-brick house had been built four years ago on a grand scale, with balconies, turrets and gables. She’d been inside a few times for various events, and had even watched a lawn tennis match in the gardens during her debut. “It is. I’ve always liked this house.”
“I know. I remember you going on and on about it three years ago. You loved the lawn tennis court in the back.”
He remembered that conversation? “I did. The Xaviers are lovely people, as well.”
“Her health is failing. Did you know?”
Maddie shook her head. “I didn’t. How awful. I wonder if my mother is aware.” Mama and Mrs. Xavier had chaired a flower show together years back.
“I think they are keeping it quiet. He’s moved her to St. Augustine.”
“Florida?”
“Yes.” He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a set of keys. “Would you like to look around?”
Her jaw fell and she stared at his hands. “You have their keys?”
“I do.” Dipping his head under the brim of her hat, he kissed her nose. “Come on.”
Taking her hand, he led her up the bluestone walk and under the portico. She stumbled along at his side, dumbfounded. “Wait, are you serious? How on earth did you steal their keys?”
“Stop asking so many questions and play along. This will be fun.”
“Harrison, this is not like sneaking into the larder for cherry pie when we were kids. This is serious. We could be arrested.”
At the door, he fit the key in the lock. “I am absolutely certain we will not be arrested. Now, after you.” He opened the door and swept out his hand.
She went in, positive they would be turned away at any minute. Except the entryway was empty, the lights off. The air had a stillness about it, as if the house had been shuttered a while. “Where is the staff?”
“On holiday since the Xaviers left. We’re alone.” He suddenly pinched her left buttock through her skirts, as if to prove it.
She yelped and pushed his shoulder. “You’re a scoundrel, Mr. Archer.”
Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her close. “I am your scoundrel, Mrs. Archer.” After exchanging a leisurely kiss, he took her hand. “Let’s explore.”
The house was open and airy, big rooms meant to impress. The architectural details were stunning, with intricate carvings and mammoth fireplaces, not to mention a stained-glass ceiling over the ballroom. Mr. Xavier had been an avid collector of art, and there was no shortage of classic paintings hanging on the walls.
They walked the four floors, quietly commenting to each other on the things they liked. She was most impressed by the indoor pool and the conservatory. Harrison liked the master bedroom and oak-paneled library. Their footsteps echoed on the tiled floors, and she began to suspect why he’d brought her here.
He had mentioned renting a house for the summer, but this was more square footage than they required. She’d imagined a town house on the Upper East Side, not a thirty-room mansion. Even though she did love this house, this seemed excessive.
They continued to the back of the house, finally reaching the terrace that overlooked the gardens. Outlines of a lawn tennis court could still be seen, though the grass had become unruly. “That poor court,” she murmured. “It was gorgeous a few years ago.”
“It could be gorgeous again.” Harrison leaned a hip against the balustrade and faced her. “With your help.”
“You want to rent this house.”
He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “I want to buy this house.”
“Buy it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to stay close to your parents?”
“It’s an awfully big house.”
Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I only want it if you agree. It’s a great location and there is already a lawn tennis court.” He kissed her cheek. “And this terrace reminds me of the chateau. Perfect for sharing cigars with you.”
She relaxed into his chest, the memories heating her skin. “You almost kissed me that night.”
Shifting, he cupped her jaw in his palm. His expression was filled with affection as he lowered his head. “I wanted nothing more in that moment.”
She whispered, “I wanted it, as well,” just before he kissed her. Gently, he nipped at her lips, delicate sweeps of his mouth that had her clinging to him within seconds. Their breath mingled in the quiet morning, with the birds as their only audience, and the entire world narrowed to just his hands, his lips and his tongue.
She was panting by the time they broke apart. He adjusted her hat, which had become askew during their kiss. “What do you think? Should we buy it?”
“Can we afford it?”
“I thought we covered this the other day, but yes, we can afford it. Would you like to live here with me?”
She could picture their lives here—with children one day, perhaps. They would make many happy memories together within these walls. It felt right. “Yes, I think I would.”
“Excellent.” He gave her one swift kiss, then led her back inside. “I’ll have the real estate agent start on the paperwork.”
By the time he locked up, more carriages were in the street, and the steady clip of hooves rang in her ears as she and Harrison crossed the street. “You found this house for us because you remembered how much I liked it,” she said. “I’m impressed.”
“I am trying to do better at the request of my wife.”
“You don’t have to buy us a house to earn my forgiveness.”
“I realize that, but how could I pass up the chance to see you smile? Besides, someone else will buy this house if we don’t.”
“Do you have any other surprises, Harrison Archer?”
He squeezed her forearm. “Perhaps.”
“Like what—”
“Harrison! Ho!”
A brougham jerked to the curb and a man jumped down to the walk. It was Thomas Archer, Harrison’s brother.
“Shit,” Harrison muttered under his breath, his body tensing.
Thomas didn’t spare her a glance, directing his attention to his brother. “Why haven’t you been answering me?”
Her husband offered no apology. “I’ve been busy.”