“You’ll never find another young lady like her, not in a thousand years.”
Sheridan slapped his list to the table. “Now see here, that’s quite enough. I already know all that—and I was set on convincing you.” He tapped a finger to the list. “It’s all written out—why’d you have to go and ruin it? Don’t you know you were supposed to object? I mean, it would have been stupid of you, but—but blue blood and family lines and all that. Ainsley promised me it would matter too much to you, and I’d have to . . . to . . .”
Abbie looked at him as if he’d been speaking in Gaulish. Which was absurd, because he’d only learned to read the Druid language, he couldn’t speak it. “So, the lady in question is Beth? Is that what you’re getting at?”
He pulled his hand free and sat back with a whoosh. “Of course it’s Beth! Who in blazes else would it be?”
“Well then. We’re all on the same page. Ah, and there’s Bram, awake at last.” Abbie stood, her hand extended long before she reached the door Telford was just stepping through, a teacup clutched in his hand and Lancelot all but climbing up his legs in his excitement.
A bit of Sheridan’s mood turned to glee at watching Telly try with valiant effort to will Abbie away. A losing battle. Within a few seconds, he sighed and took her hand with his free one, bowing over it. Though Sheridan could only see his sister’s back, he knew well the arch look she’d be giving Telly.
Who’d closed his eyes for a second. And, upon opening them, managed, “Lady Abbie.”
“There now. Was that so difficult? As I keep telling you, Bram, you are perfectly capable of intelligent conversation before the hour of noon—you simply must try.” Abbie pivoted back to them and motioned with her hand.
Millicent sprang to her feet too. “Quite right, Abbie. It’s high time we see what our lads have been up to. No doubt they’ve made an absolute mess of their search and we’ll have to bring some order to it.”
Beth leaped up, too, though a glance at her showed him that it was panic in her eyes now. “Oh, but no! It’s all ordered, I promise you. And most of it was mine.”
His sisters kept on smiling, Millicent saying, “Perfect. Then you can give us the tour of it all, like you did the islands.”
“Millicent.” Sheridan tried to halt her with a hand on her arm, but it was a losing battle. Wasn’t there a Scripture somewhere about grasping after the wind? The Lord had surely been talking about trying to stop his sisters once they’d set a course.
She did pause—for a moment, anyway—to pat his left cheek and chuckle. “You really made a list? You are adorable, Theo. Absolutely adorable.”
Millicent was at Abbie’s side a moment later, and somehow Mamm-wynn had gotten caught up in their momentum and was on her feet as well, offering to start the tour with the collection of whatnot Beth had brought her over the years.
Sheridan sighed. Though he was mostly mollified when Beth leaned into his side. “Well, she is right about that. You are adorable.”
He grinned down at her. “She’s right about you too. They both are.”
“Clever ladies, those. I quite like them.”
“Good.” Though he still felt a bit like the wind had been knocked from his sails. He fingered the useless list. “It was quite thorough, you know. All your virtues and charms. Took me forever to list them all out.”
Telford dropped into one of the vacated chairs, Lancelot jumping happily into his lap the moment said lap presented itself. He leveled a hard glare on Sheridan. “Everything.”
“Yes, I know. They do take over absolutely everything. But . . .”
“But they’re wonderful,” Beth said, glaring right back at Telford. For a moment anyway, then she turned a smile on Sheridan. “And really, I think you’re overlooking the most important thing.”
That they’d given him their blessing? Well, yes, that was definitely worth celebrating. And he would, once he got over the windblown feeling.
Beth grinned. “Ainsley was wrong.”
The rest of his cheer came surging back. And was it any wonder he loved her? He laughed and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “You’re right—how could I have overlooked that? Ainsley!” He charged toward the back door, knowing Ainsley would likely be in the kitchen. “Hey, Harry! You couldn’t have been more wrong!”
And he’d rub it in while he could. Heaven knew it didn’t happen very often.
25
There had been a day not all that long ago when Beth had bemoaned how empty their house felt—how empty the whole isle of Tresco was, with Mabena on the mainland serving Libby, her parents and Morgan gone, so many of her childhood friends having moved away, and Emily living in London.
Now their house and the island felt altogether bursting. Mabena and Libby both here, Emily on St. Mary’s, Senara home, and Telford and Sheridan staying with them. Toss in the Howe sisters, and she really began to wonder if little Tresco could hold so much personality. It was with a self-indulgent laugh that she sneaked back into the library while everyone else was still outside, enjoying the cake Mrs. Dawe had served with tea.
She’d liberate a piece from the kitchen later, if there was any left. But first she’d see what the two cyclones Sheridan called sisters had done with all her books and letters and maps and reams of notes.
She really did like them quite a lot—but Telford was right too. They were a force to be reckoned with, and they didn’t appear to know how to see a situation without trying to bring their own version of order to it.
She strode first to her usual place at the table, where the parish record books and Mother’s stories were still right where she’d left them. Well, more or less. They were a bit neater, with the edges all perfectly aligned, but nothing was out of order.
“Didn’t ruin anything, did they?”
Beth looked up with a smile. Sheridan lounged in the doorway, hands behind his back. “Not that I’ve spotted yet. Just tidied things up a bit—they must not have been able to argue much with Senara’s order. Although even if they’d rearranged it all, I’d forgive it. Given how much they love me.”
He grinned and pushed off the frame, advancing a few steps. “I suppose I should have given them more credit. How could they not see in a glance how perfect you are?”
“Perfect! Hardly.” A perfect person wouldn’t have let adventure put her family in danger. Wouldn’t have treated him so ill at the start. Wouldn’t have let herself be trapped by Scofield.
“For me, that is.” He paused on the other side of the table, his hands still behind him. Which was rather strange. “I know Telly thought me mad for inviting them, but I really did need them to come. To bring me something.”
She told herself to breathe normally. Not to flush. Not to let her imagination run ahead of her. Because really, it’s not like he would have asked them to bring any family jewels or anything, right? He might joke about proposing, but they’d only known each other a month and a half. And while it hadn’t even taken that long for Oliver to propose to Libby, such lightning wouldn’t strike their family twice in the span of a summer, would it? Sheridan wouldn’t ask her to marry him already—and especially, he wouldn’t have planned to do it before knowing if they’d have his sisters’ blessing. He clearly loved and respected them too much for that.