In Bed With...Collection

“You don’t have to live up to others’ expectations, Maggie,” he said quietly. “Especially if it creates a conflict within yourself.”

She glanced up, oddly relieved he understood.

He caught her gaze and transmitted an empathy that stroked her troubled heart. “Stay true to whatever you believe is right for you,” he advised. “In the end, that’s what works best. For everyone. An unhappy person spreads unhappiness.”

She recognised the truth in what he said and felt the strength of mind and purpose he’d harnessed to follow his own path in life. In this respect, he was very similar to his grandfather, a natural leader, exuding confidence. It didn’t matter that he poured his energy into something different to Vivian. The charismatic power that drew others to him was the same. It made them feel safe within the radius of such strength.

He has a generous heart. Just like his grandfather. You’ll be safe with him, dear.

The insight suddenly burst upon her. “It’s you they need, not me. Do you realise that, Beau?”

“You mean Feathers and Sedgewick and...”

“Yes. Vivian was the focus of their lives. They’re clinging on to him through me because...” She hesitated, reluctant to starkly state what they wanted of her.

“They see you as a way to hold on to their lives at Rosecliff,” he said, openly revealing his perception and encouraging her to speak hers.

She leaned forward, earnestly pressing the truth she had just comprehended. “It’s not the place so much. It’s you. You’re Vivian’s natural heir, and I’m not referring to simply inheriting his property. They want you to give their lives purpose, providing a hub for them to work around as your grandfather did, and they’re afraid you won’t, afraid you’ll let them go and they won’t know what to do then.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Maggie. They’re my family. One way or another, I’ll answer their needs. You can count on it.”

In so saying, he lifted all responsibility from her shoulders and the burden on her heart. She sat back and smiled, happy he understood.

They were safe with him.

Beau had made her feel very unsafe but she realised now he had felt unsafe with her, too. It had been right to tell him about herself, good to clear the air between them. She relaxed, enjoying a sense of freedom in exploring more with him.

“Any other worries?’ he asked, obviously wanting to erase her fears.

“No. Except...” She nodded to the view outside the window. “...I hope our plane doesn’t crash.”

He grinned. “We’re flying with an airline that has an excellent safety record.”

“Those jumbo jets are so huge.”

“I’ll hold your hand.”

She laughed as warmth flooded through her. Maybe she and their child would be safe in his keeping. A strong man with a generous heart would surely make a good father. Would he be her mate for life?

An hour later Maggie was strapped into a spacious and comfortable window seat, being treated to the privileges of a first-class passenger on a flight to London. The plane was zooming down the runway, picking up enormous speed. Just as she was tensing for the lift-off, Beau reached over and took her hand.

She felt the warmth and comfort of the reassuring gesture as she watched the ground fall away beneath them and experienced the exhilaration of climbing up to the sky. Once she was confident they were not about to drop out of it, she turned her head from the window and smiled at the man who was looking after her, her whole body humming with a wonderful sense of sharing.

“My grandfather called this the great adventure,” he said, returning her smile.

“Thank you for taking me on it, Beau.”

In more ways than one, she thought, looking down at their linked hands, liking the togetherness.

It was a journey towards trust.

The greatest adventure of all.

And the most dangerous.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ud535c0fb-8216-5cc4-a273-7d8e9771b73f)

BEAU very quickly understood his grandfather’s enchantment with Maggie Stowe. She was so eager for knowledge, she soaked up everything she could, loving the experience of a wider world, the wonder of it sparkling in her eyes. Fatigue, hunger, discomfort... none of it meant anything to her if there was something more to take in and savour. London was a historical feast and even its present living culture was endlessly fascinating to her.

She wasn’t a tourist as Beau knew tourists, notching up places they’d been. She wasn’t interested in buying souvenirs, nor even looking at them. That took up time better spent in active pursuit of a bigger treasure house of memories to be kept in her mind and heart and soul. So she said.

Beau suspected she automatically dismissed souvenirs as excess baggage. In a life led travelling lightly, books and ornaments would simply weigh her down. She didn’t have a family home where she could store them. What most people took for granted had not been available to Maggie Stowe.

To have carried through such an isolated and alienated existence and still have an open-hearted zest for exploring more and more of life, showed a truly amazing resilience. Gutsy and grand, Beau thought, and found himself admiring her more than he usually admired anyone.

Even with places he had already seen, she revitalised his interest and extended it. He remembered on his previous visit to the Tower of London with his grandfather, he’d been captivated by its fortress aspect, the rooms where famous people had been imprisoned, the instruments of torture, suits of armour. Maggie was more enthralled with the Queens of England who’d been buried in the chapel, and shocked by the wealth of the British Empire, embedded in the Crown Jewels.

It was fun to be with her. She brought a kind of magical joy to each day with her vibrant enthusiasm, a dancing smile and evocative comments inviting him to share everything that touched her. He loved her uninhibited reactions, enjoyed her perceptions, found intense pleasure in her company, and thought how much he’d like spending the rest of his life with her.

He took her to Harrods since a visit to London wouldn’t be complete without a look at the famous store. It was a natural expectation that Maggie would be tempted into buying something from the rich array of goods on display, if only one of the exotic pastries from the food hall. She did end up making a purchase, but not for herself, for Sedgewick.

“Look, Beau! A silver stopper for bottles of champagne. It’s to keep the bubbles in after the bottle’s been opened.” Her eyes sparkled with glee. “Sedgewick will love it!”

“Why?” he asked, bemused by her pleasure in it.

“Oh, he looks so pained when nobody wants any more champagne and there’s still some left in the bottle. With this stopper he can keep it for later and enjoy it himself. He never drinks while he’s on duty and he hates waste. I must buy it for him.”

She was being served when she was struck by second thoughts, turning to Beau in agitated uncertainty. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You don’t drink champagne as Vivian did. If you don’t intend to throw any more parties or do functions at Rosecliff...”

“Buy it,” he said decisively. When still she doubted, he added, “I won’t be dropping my grandfather’s charity balls. If I’m not there to host them, I’ll put Sedgewick in charge.”

And on such an off-the-cuff incident, the future of Rosecliff suddenly turned. Or maybe the decision had been building up in him from the day he’d first returned home to a heritage he couldn’t quite disown. Rosecliff represented home to him and having a home with a sense of continuity to it had a value now it didn’t have before getting to know Maggie Stowe. Every child deserved a proper family home and Beau was determined on giving their child the best he could offer.

Having said what he’d said, it felt right. He’d make it happen. And Maggie was an integral part of it. Somehow he’d make her realise that before this trip was over.

They caught the Eurostar train from Waterloo to Paris, travelling under the English Channel and speeding across the countryside of France faster than any cars they saw on the roads. They both gave the trip top marks for inclusion on a tour.

To Beau, in his teens, Paris had been a city of stupendous grandeur, dominated by the architectural splendour of its public buildings and monuments, the marvellous precision of their mathematical alignment, the spirit of Napoleon and the fantastic Eiffel Tower. He hadn’t seen it as a romantic city for lovers. He did now.

Spring in Paris. There was a nip in the air as Wallace had forewarned but the sun shone on them as he and Maggie followed the walking tours he’d planned; enjoying the pretty tree-lined streets that led up to the Sacre-Coeur, stopping to watch the clever acts of mime artists; strolling from the Louvre, through the Tuileries and all the way down the Champs-Еlysеes, pausing to cast a critical eye over an exhibition of sculptures, admiring the massed displays of flowers in the gardens, having fun simply people-watching.

On the very first day, he’d caught her hand when she’d stumbled over uneven cobblestones. He hadn’t relinquished it and she hadn’t withdrawn it. The tacit acceptance emboldened him to take her hand every day. Beau could hardly believe how good it felt...this least intimate of physical links. In his mind he tied it to liking, approval, acceptance and respect, and his heart swelled with the sense of achievement this gave him. He was breaking down the barriers between them, winning her trust.

They spent a day at Versailles, marvelling at the incredible artistry involved in supplying the best of everything to the Sun-King of France; the riches of the palace, the extravagance of Le Trianon, the breathtaking design of the forest and fountains and gardens. Maggie bought a book of photographs of the latter to give to Mr. Polly.

“Just to satisfy his curiosity,” she remarked. “He’s such a master gardener himself, he’ll appreciate the attention to detail in all of this.”

Another day, they wandered around an antique fair, set up along the banks of the Seine near the Bastille. On one of the stalls Maggie saw a collection of elaborately designed brass buttons. “For Wallace,” she cried excitedly. “He’d just love these on his chauffeur’s uniform. Help me choose, Beau. I’ll buy them and sew them on his jacket for him.”