And she was going to be bloody wellhappy.
* * *
Verity
“Er… Harry?” I asked carefully as I studied his profile. The look of steely determination was still there, and his jaw has been clenched so tight all day I wouldn’t be surprised if he was headed towards a wicked tension headache.
“Yes,” he snapped, pulling our linked hands over onto his lap and giving mine a firm squeeze. Since returning from the police station, brandishing my passport and announcing that I was free to go and that we were booked onto a flight later that day, unless he was letting me pack or had me tucked under his arm, he had yet to relinquish my hand. He was a weird mixture of very affectionate and very, very angry. It was a little disconcerting but at the same time strangely comforting. I’d been so angry about the toxicity of my parents’ influence for such a long time that seeing someone else’s absolute fury in response to learning of it was kind of a relief. Harry was so incensed on my behalf I felt like I could actually let go of some of bitterness, as though a weight had been lifted. But if Harry went on like this, he’d give himself a stroke.
“Are you… are you okay?”
He turned to me then and searched my face, his jaw still clenched and his eyes still burning with suppressed rage. His hand gave mine a brief squeeze before releasing it so that both his hands could come up to frame my face. I barely had time to suck in a shocked breath before he kissed me in a swift, firm, possessive way that I felt all the way down to my toes. When he was done his forehead rested against mine for a moment before he pulled back slightly to look into my eyes, keeping my face still framed with his hands.
“No, love,” he said, and I sucked a breath in as my chest flooded with warmth at the endearment. “I’m not okay. Neither are you. But once I get you back to the UK, take you back to your home where you feel safe and back to doing what you want to do – which does not include flying to some godforsaken French town to sort something out that you have absolutely zero responsibility for, then I’ll be okay. And so will you. I’m going to make sure of it.”
That warm feeling in my chest spread and it made me panic a little. I wasn’t used to letting anyone else sort out my problems. I’d been so self-sufficient for so long it was difficult to let go of that control. Even though I did know that this time I’d been pushed too far. This time I had to let someone in. But for that person to be Harry was terrifying. My feelings for him were definitely out of my control. I was going to have to do something I hadn’t dared try even as a child. I was going to have to trust someone. Maybe it wasn’t just Heath who deserved to find happiness. Maybe we could both be lucky? So, I pushed down the nagging doubts in the back of my mind and reached up to Harry’s hands on my face, taking them in my own.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“What?”
“I mean okay, you can take me home.”
Harry’s face flooded with relief and his angry expression softened.
“Harry I…” I trailed off as I looked down at our linked hands then back up at his face. “Thank you for coming for me.”
He frowned. “I’ll always come for you, Verity. Always.”
I glanced quickly to the side to hide my slight flinch. Because he hadn’talwayscome for me, had he? Shoving those nagging doubts back down as well I swallowed and looked back into his warm brown eyes again. I needed to let go of the past and trust this Harry to not let me go. Not this time.
Chapter26
You weren’t okay
Harry
“We haven’t been able to track down Lady Markham yet, but they’re close I think,” I said in an attempt to reassure everyone that I could keep that bitch away from Heath and Verity. In truth, she was proving very hard to find. There had been a few leads, but she was country-hopping so much that it was a near-impossible task. Verity stiffened next to me, and I could feel the anxiety rolling off her.
I’d thought that she’d settled over the last two weeks. After we got back from France, I took her home to her cottage where I knew she felt the safest, and I worked from there for a week. Well, fifty percent of my time was spent working, the rest was focused more on sorting out the mess in France and making sure it didn’t touch the Markhams. I had to have Barbara brought down – this involved transporting her in her own chauffeur-driven car, with a cat-sitter in the back attending to her every need, including a huge quantity of smoked salmon. Since arriving in Dorset, Barbara had now very much claimed Verity’s cottage and the entire surrounding area. The neighbour’s dog looked terrified poor thing.
Verity went back to work. Every day when she came home to find that Barbara and I were still there, she’d blink as if surprised I’d stayed. I didn’t let her get too lost in her thoughts. The minute she walked through the door I would sweep her up into my arms and kiss her before she was able to even put down her bag. I could feel the tension drain out of her with the contact. It was as if she’d been bracing for me to leave, and the physical reality of my open affection allowed her to release that.
What I found a little concerning was that this reaction did not lessen as the days went on. If anything, the relief that I hadn’t buggered off yet became more acute. I decided that all I could do was just consistently be there – hug her, kiss her, cook for her (okay maybe it was mostly ordering food rather than actual preparation), make love to her, hold her on the sofa whilst we watchedGame of Thronesor read LP Mayweather books with my cat digging her claws into both of us until she was stroked at the correct speed, and tell her I loved her. She hadn’t said it back to me yet, but I could wait. I knew she felt it. There were moments when I would catch her looking at me like she was trying to work something out. Like there was a trick being played on her, like I couldn’t be real or offering myself to her freely. Verity Markham’s trust was going to be hard won.
Her brother and her friends, however, were a different story. They had gone from open hostility before France to glowing acceptance. Even the toddler loved me, but then I’d always been good with kids – ever the fun uncle in my family and with Toby’s daughter. We’d gone to the pub with Max, Mia, Heath and Yaz one night in the week, and, whilst both Markhams were a little quiet, Yaz’s humour lightened the atmosphere. Even the perpetually grumpy Max managed a couple of dry comments about “some reight poncy bastards what need their house bulldozing” – I was starting to see why Verity kept the man well away from clients if at all possible.
So now it was Sunday, and we were having lunch at Max’s house, along with his and Yaz’s parents. It was clear they had open affection for Verity and Heath and so, understandably, were initially wary of me. But once it became clear how invested I was in Verity, and the fact that I was a favourite of their granddaughter they softened towards me. I found their protective stance when it came to Verity and Heath confusing at first, but of course I didn’t know the background. When the subject of Verity’s mother came up, I began to fully appreciate just how much history there was between Verity, Heath and the Hardcastles.
“That woman should be shot,” Fern Hardcastle snapped, after hearing about the situation in France.
“Shooting’s too good for her,” growled the previously benign-seeming Aubrey. “She should be left to starve to death. Let her know what going hungry feels like.”
Shocked silence had followed that out-of-character rant. Aubrey’s face was nearly purple with rage, the man looked about ready to burst.
“Aubrey,” Verity had said quietly, laying her hand over his. “It’s done now.”
He huffed out a breath and his body relaxed slightly as he managed a small smile for Verity. “I know, love,” he said, his voice now much softer. “It just makes me so bloody furious when I think about what you two went through back then. For her to still be causing you problems now is unforgivable. She’s done enough. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with it. When I think back to that summer you two didn’t come home with us. I just…” he shuddered and his face paled. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “I’ve never forgiven myself for letting you go back with them.”
