Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Silly girl, let me see that pretty face.” I wiped her tears away and kissed her now red nose before taking her head in my hands to hold her still. “Are you happy?” She nodded and those infernal tears started again.
“Are you trying to wash me away? Your nose is running.” She elbowed me in the gut and turned around to straddle me. “If this is one of your infantile jokes, I promise I will climb through your window tonight and cut your balls off.”
“Such language for a tiny little thing.” I picked her hand up and we both looked at her ring, which fit like it had been made for her. I didn’t know I was supposed to feel something just from seeing it there, knowing what it represented.
Okay, I kinda knew I would feel… something. But I didn’t expect it be this strong, to go this deep. Like there was a connection, something that now bound us together in more ways than one.
She was obviously fascinated with the ring. The way she turned her hand this way and that as if she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. “It’s beautiful Ethan, and so unusual.” She held it up and let the sun bounce off of it before placing her hand on my chest.
“The ring is eight hundred years old. Its first owner, one of my great-greats, was a fierce Irish beauty who won the heart of an English nobleman, an earl to be exact. It is said that she insisted that the second son of each generation should carry her last name.”
“One of her offspring brought the name here when he moved to America four hundred years later and that is where my name comes from. Soon it will be your name. Would you like to learn the history of your new family Lucia?”
“Oh yes can I?” I knew she would because I’ve caught her studying the portraits of my ancestors that grace the walls of the great hall more than once. Yes, my home has a great hall where balls and soirees were once held.
I could see her in the midst of such a gathering. Her beauty has always put me in mind of those great women in my ancestry. Women who had to fight the vagaries of their day to be heard. “There are dozens of books in the cellar for you to pore over at your leisure. But before that you have a wedding to plan.”
“Why can’t I do both?”
“Because I know you. You’ll get your nose stuck in one of those damn books and forget the wedding.” She may not like to study, but she has a ferocious appetite for history and historical artifacts. She would’ve made an excellent archeologist if she had a longer attention span than a gnat.
“And she wore this ring? What was her name?”
“Bridget O’Sullivan.” She sighed and stared at her ring and I got the feeling she was more interested in the history of the thing than it’s monetary value. Which is why I wanted it for her. I knew she would value it as much as I do.
“Her picture is the one you stare at each time you sneak into the hall.” She looked at me sheepishly through her long ink black lashes. “You didn’t know I knew about that did you? Well, now little princess, you no longer have to sneak. The hall, as does the master, now belongs to you. Don’t start that crying shit again my ears can’t stand it.”
I got a giggle and an eye roll before she wiped her nose with the back of her hand again. “What about your mother, and… Helen?”
“All taken care of. Mother will be moving into town and she’ll be gone by tomorrow so Helen is no longer of any concern to us.”
She didn’t look quite convinced and I understood why. She knows well my mother’s penchant for getting her way and I have to admit I haven’t done a very good job of showing her that I have balls.
She’ll learn soon enough that though I’d been willing to put up with much on my own accord, no one would be allowed to harm her in anyway. I held her closer and kissed her hair. “We’ll be fine princess, I promise. I don’t want you to give them another thought.”
She didn’t answer so I wasn’t sure if she believed me or not. I couldn’t blame her, I’d made a fucking mess of things. I hadn’t shown her the man I really am, too afraid that it would be too much. It’s a wonder she even fell in love with me. Weak fuck!
“I have to go tell mom and dad. Oh, what about my parents? I can’t live here and have them work for us.” Is there any wonder I love her so much? She’s always thinking of others, not a selfish bone in her body.