Page 94 of To Treasure an Heiress
Innocence was the very thing Senara had given away.
She shook her head. “You’re a kind man, Ainsley. But you know what I’ve done. And while the Lord and my family may forgive me, that doesn’t mean...” She didn’t know quite how to say it, not in a way that he wouldn’t immediately argue against. Because he was good and kind and wanted to make her feel better.
But that couldn’t change facts.
He sat up, letting the blade of grass fly into the wind, then leaned back a bit so he could dig a hand into his pocket. She had no idea what he was about until he pulled something out and held it toward her on his open palm.
Even so, shestillhad no idea what he was about. She reached toward the white sphere glowing in the moonlight. “A ... bead?” It was the size of one of the peas he’d helped her shuck that day when she’d first come home, and it looked like the sort of bead she used to save her pennies to buy so she could sew them into her shawls or onto her hats.
But this one had no hole bored through it. And it didn’t quite feel like the costume jewelry she knew.
“A pearl.”
She drew her hand back just before picking it up. “Are you quite serious? A real pearl? It must be worth a fortune!”
He shrugged and kept holding it out. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t know—I’ve never had it appraised.”
He was the steady sort. Reasonable. She hadn’t thought him capable of shocking her with something so ... so utterlyunreasonable. “So, what then, you just carry it about in your pocket?”
His teeth gleamed, white as the pearl, when he smiled. “For the last six years, yes. That’s precisely what I’ve done.”
When it became obvious she was not going to pluck the pearl from his palm—what if she dropped it and lost it? It had to be worth a month of her old salary, if not more—he moved his hand so that it rolled into his fingers and he could hold it up to the moonlight.
“We were on a dig in Tuscany. Truly beautiful country, and I was quite enjoying myself. His lordship was helping excavate a tomb of one of the ancient Etruscans, and he was going forever on about how they were masters of jewelry-making. He’d not found anything of true note yet, though.” A hint of a smile settled in the corners of Ainsley’s mouth. “Each morning, one of his sisters or I would lead the whole team in a Scripture reading and prayer, and that day it was my turn. I admit I didn’t put a great amount of thought into my selection. I just read the next passage after the one I’d done the last time, from the Gospels. And it was about a pearl.”
Senara tangled her fingers into the grass. “The one about not tossing one’s pearls before swine?”
He shot her a reproving look. “No. The parable about the pearl of great price. You know the one—how the kingdom of God is like a man who finds a pearl of great price. And he sells all that he owns so that he can purchase the pearl. Just as we’re to give up anything He asks of us to follow Him.”
She nodded, though it was slowly. “And this went from a parable to a physical pearl how?”
“Well, later that day, his lordship had me moving the pieces they were digging up—mostly pottery shards and the like—from the excavation site to one of the tents for cleaning and cataloguing. I saw this clump of mud beside the pottery and tossed it away. But Lord Sheridan caught it—” He interrupted himself with a laugh. “You ought to have seen him pluck it out of midair, absolute horror on his face. And he said,‘Ainsley, old boy, don’t you know what this is?’Well, of course I did—a clump of mud.”
Senara felt her own lips tug up. “I suspect not.”
“I didn’t, not at the time. I knew mud when I saw it, after all. But he slapped it into my hand with that grin of his and said that perhaps I ought to make sure it was only mud before I threw it out like rubbish. I was curious then, and as I took it to the tent, I caught a glimpse of white that had peeked through the mud on one side. It only took me a few minutes to wash it clean. And there it was. A pearl.”
“He knew. And then he let you keep it?” She didn’t know many employers who would be so generous.
“Insisted on it, given the passage I’d read that morning. He said it was clearly meant to be mine. A reminder of the kingdom of God. But more than that.” He looked at her again now, and though she couldn’t see much of his eyes when his back was to the moon, she knew well what light would be in them. The same light that always was. “It was a reminder to me of what His salvation really means. I think ... I think too often we compare our souls and our sins to a grass stain. We think that His sacrifice is sufficient to knock off the clumps and blades clinging to the outside of us, but not quite strong enough to get rid of the stain in the fabric.”
She could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. That was exactly how she felt.
“But we’re not fabric, Senara. We are pearls.” He reached for her hand, turned it over, and set the pearl onto her palm. This time she didn’t argue. Just looked at it, gleaming so brilliantly. White and clean and beautiful. “I realize I risk preaching here like his lordship always accuses me of, but it must be said. He makes us with great worth. Creates us that way intrinsically. Our sins, our bad choices, perhaps they coat us like mud. But the mud cannot take away the value He instilled in us. Mud does not make a pearl any less valuable. If it did, then why would Jesus have deemed us worthy of the sacrifice of His life? But He loves us, as does the Father. Because we are valuable. And the blood of Christ, when it washes us clean, fully restores us to what He created us to be. A pearl cannot be stained. No matter how many centuries it sits in the mud, wash it in a bit of water and it’s gleaming again.”
Her nostrils flared, and she blinked a few times. He was right—they were words he had to say. Words she needed to hear.
He closed her fingers around the pearl. “Youare a pearl of great price, Senara Dawe. I could see that as soon as I met you. You are a woman of deep heart, of great love, of beautiful spirit. It is an honor to be counted among your friends.” He drew his hands away, leaving her clutching the pearl.
She shook her head and held it back out to him. “Don’t leave this with me. I may drop it.”
“You won’t. And if you aren’t comfortable keeping it forever...” He stood and brushed off the seat of his trousers.
She scurried to her feet, too, holding the pearl tightly so she didn’t lose it.
He turned to face her, stepping just a bit closer than he would normally stand. “You may return it to me after you’ve let its meaning soak into your soul. But only then. And if, when that day comes, when your heart is mended from the damage done by my selfish donkey of a cousin—” He hissed out a breath, shook his head, and then visibly calmed himself again. “If when that day comes you don’t find me a tiresome Puritan ... well, I would treasure the opportunity to see if perhaps we would suit asmorethan friends.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she wished she could banish them with a simple blink, but they wouldn’t be chased away so easily. How was it possible that this man—this good, kind, handsome, perfect man—could look at her and see anything beneath the dirt?
