Page 78 of Phillip

Her heart soared that he could picture them together that far in the future. “We don’t.”

He took her hand.

“At Harvard, I let Mother get into my head, and at the time, I couldn’t see any other way. All I wanted was her approval, and I turned away from you when you were exactly what I needed most.”

He squeezed her hand. The interior lights had long since dimmed, and the moonlight provided a pale, shimmering glow. “I love you, Ashley. I loved you then. I love you now. Time and space haven’t changed that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a long kiss against them.

Tears, the first happy ones in ages, slid down her cheeks. “I never stopped loving you either.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Phillip ran his thumb over Ashley’s knuckles as they walked into the front entryway of the estate. Lights and conversation radiated from the living room.

“I guess we’ll say hello before bed,” he said.

Uncle Graham and Nana relaxed on the couch with a bottle of Blackthorne Gold perched on the coffee table. They each held two fingers worth of whisky in crystal glasses. A third, empty glass waited next to a whisky bottle. “We should’ve known to expect you two.” Uncle Graham stood, introducing himself to Ashley.

Phillip kissed Nana on the cheek. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” He put his hand on Ashley’s back. “Mrs. Fiona Blackthorne, my girlfriend, Ashley Cartwright.” He noticed his uncle’s nod of clarification of what Ashley meant to Phillip. “Ashley, this is my lovely grandmother.”

Nana stood and took Ashley by the shoulders. “Call me Fiona. These boys like to make me sound like an old bitty. It’s ’cause I can drink them under the table.”

They laughed, and Uncle Graham stepped to the side. “I’ll get another glass.”

“Thanks, Uncle Graham. But I think we’re going to turn in.”

“Take a minute and have a drink.” Nana shooed her son to get Ashley’s glass.

Once Phillip and Ashley were given their glasses, and all were seated around the coffee table, Nana offered, “Slàinte mhath.”

“Slàinte mhath,” Phillip cheered, adding for Ashley, “Good health and a happy life.”

She grinned. “Slann-Gaur-Vaer.”

“Close enough,” Nana decreed.

Laughing, he took a long, slow swig and let the smooth whisky slide down. Then he stood, ready to say good night.

Uncle Graham raised his hand. “One more thing.”

He couldn’t handle many more “one more things” this evening. But Phillip respectfully, if not exhaustedly, dropped back into his seat.

“I had a short phone call with Agatha Cartwright today,” Uncle Graham said.

“My mother?” Ashley gasped. “Is everything okay?”

Of course it wasn’t. Phillip knew better. Anytime Agatha Cartwright was involved, problems would arise.

“No, actually.” Uncle Graham’s eyes clouded, and his jaw went taut. “She explained that she’d misstepped in a conversation with Sean Paget.”

Phillip’s jaw tightened.

“It seems she had an opinion of a private matter between Claire and I.” Uncle Graham’s lips thinned, and Phillip cursed his uncle’s stubborn streak that kept him from chasing down the woman he loved. “Don’t worry about it, Uncle Graham. We didn’t give it any thought.”

“None,” Ashley confirmed.

“Either way, you should know it’s untrue,” Uncle Graham said. “And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”

Nana snorted. “You forgave Agatha Cartwright so easily.”

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