46
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PENELOPE
RAVEN ABBEY LOOKED LIKE something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I almost expected a scarf to float out of the turret’s window. It certainly was an artist’s playground, and I couldn’t wait to create some sketches.
I was so taken with the facade, climbing up the stairs to what was now a hotel, that I tripped, and Blake caught me in those strong arms of his.
“You lived here?” I asked, my mouth wide. The grand entrance with the double staircase that spiraled to the first floor captivated me.
Blake nodded.
“Hello, Mr. Sinclair,” said the woman at the desk.
“Morning, Claire. This is Penelope, my girlfriend. Just taking her for a tour.”
“Welcome,” she said in a broad Irish accent.
“There’s a fresh batch of scones being served.” She gave me a bright smile.
Blake looked at me, and I nodded keenly. The country air had stimulated my appetite.
We broke our journey by staying at Nottingham, which was like stepping back in time. I gasped in wonder as we wandered through the forest, imagining Robin Hood in a tree, about to pounce. We even stayed at a castle that was now a hotel. I was convinced there were ghosts, given the creaking doors and howling wind, but it made for an entertaining experience, although I couldn’t have done it alone.
Blake’s tanned features had a healthy, warm glow. He looked different. In London, he wore cosmopolitan sexiness with ease, but in the country, the light made his eyes bluer, and he looked ruggedly handsome amidst nature.
The visit was primarily to scatter Milly’s ashes, and after my emotionally challenging fortnight, the countryside was just what I needed. I was touched that Blake, a normally private person, wished to show me his birthplace.
There was no question—I did want to marry him. After that heart-wrenching break, I couldn’t imagine my life without Blake. I just needed to know that it wasn’t only lust, given that he couldn’t take his hands off me. I loved having them all over me. Our deep sexual connection was torrid and addictive.
But can we do forever?
We sat in a big sunny room converted into a restaurant. Butter melted all over the freshly baked scones. I added some raspberry jam and whipped cream, and after taking a bite, I sang, “Yum.”
Blake wiped his lips and nodded. “Mm… they’re terrific all right.” He smiled wickedly. “Even the simple act of eating scones and jam is erotic around you.” He pointed at my cleavage.
I looked down and saw that some jam had slid down my front. “Ah… damn.” I grabbed a napkin to wipe it.
He shook his head. “No. Don’t. Leave it, and I’ll lick it off. With pleasure. In fact, this jam is so damn delicious I can imagine it spread all over you.”
I giggled and heated up at the same time. But I ended up cleaning it up anyway after noticing an elderly couple entering the room.
“This was once the ballroom,” said Blake, pointing up at the chandeliers.
I was in awe of the stained glass windows. “It’s overwhelmingly beautiful. I can’t believe you lived here. Did you play in this room too?”
He smiled sweetly. Blake wore the type of smile advertising agencies would have sold a kidney for. When I first met him, his lips had rarely curled.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“It’s just nice to see you relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.”
He reverted back to his natural earnestness. “I’ve had an eventful, life-changing three months, Penny.” His hand landed over mine.
“As have I,” I returned. “I’m so grateful to be here, especially after hearing about it. But I only see magic here.”
“There’s magic because you’re here. It’s a form of alchemy. We have an effect on places. You bring light and beauty even to that run-down estate where you were born.”
It was another Blake-making-me-melt moment. I unstuck my legs from the chair. “That’s profound and very complimentary.”
The sun poured in for the first time. Although the morning had been gray, suddenly, at that very moment, a burst of warm light settled on us like an aura binding our spirits. Blake’s eyes smiled in acknowledgement of it.
After I polished off my third scone, I said, “Since you moved here as a young boy, how was it that your mother and Sir William…” I sought a delicate choice of words.
“My mother worked at Raven Abbey all my life. We moved here after that asshole she married went to prison. Clearly, my mother and Sir William…” He paused.
“Your father, you mean,” I interjected.
“Yes.” He rubbed his neck. “That still sounds strange, even if it’s elevating knowing that I share DNA with such a great man.”
“Then Sir William and your mother formed a relationship before you were born.”
“So it would seem,” he said with slight hesitancy.
I reached over and touched his hand. “I hope you’re not judging your mother for cheating on her savage wife-beating husband.”
He shook his head. “No. I forgave her a long time ago. I just didn’t know that I was the result of it.”
“Thank God.” I smiled. “I couldn’t imagine a world without you.”
A sad smile touched his lips and turned his eyes a tender turquoise shade. “And I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”
We touched hands and remained lost in each other’s gazes.
Snapping out of that brief moment of enchantment, Blake glanced down at his watch. “I just realized I’m running behind. I need to go to Leeds to visit the solicitor.”
“Then can I stay here until you return? I’d love to draw.”
“Of course.” He touched my hand. “I’ll let him know.” He removed his cellphone from his jacket. “Let’s head up to the room.”
After Blake made his call, we climbed the serpentine staircase to the room that had once been Sir William’s. A sigh of wonder left my chest. The huge room with large windows overlooking a thick wood seemed to go on forever.
Crimson walls were framed in gold-leaf detail, drawing my attention to the gilded neoclassical art. Since that was one of my favorite periods, I ogled at the languid goddesses poised by arches and in forests.
“Oh my God. I don’t think I’ll ever leave this room. It’s so delightfully feminine. Were the paintings Sir William’s?” I asked, noticing that the original works were screwed into the wall.
He nodded. “Although I was advised to place them in a vault, I couldn’t do that.”
“How noble. I hate the idea of beauty hidden away from the world.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I share that view. In any case, most people are vetted, and we have their details, so if they tried to steal a painting, we’d find them.”
Blake smiled again. I sensed that this journey back to his former home had had a significant impact on him due to Sir William being his biological father.
He pushed me onto the bed gently and ravished my mouth. “I’ve been dying to do that all morning.”