I end up getting lost in more genealogy reports, searching endlessly for children and grandchildren of the Davis’ family. Then I cross-reference them with our own lineage in the hope I can find something a little more connecting to us and reasons why anauthor would ever be looking into us in this detail, let alone be killed. There isn’t much other than a raft of potential people who might well be related to us, but one thing’s for sure, this George Broderick had a son, and that was covered up for reasons unknown.
Sighing, I lean back in Landon’s chair and swivel it around to look out into the garden, searching for inspiration. It’s only after ten minutes of staring that I begin wondering what the time is, and more importantly, why I haven’t had a phone call from Blake.
I spin back to look at the phone, frowning. Most of the day seems to have gone by, and—I swipe through a load of notifications—nothing from him.
“Miss Ivy?” I look up, watching as Sophie enters the room quietly. “Would you like a late lunch, or perhaps some tea?”
“Good idea. Thank you, tea would be great.” Not that it’s going to solve any mystery anytime soon, but I could do with moving. I stand at the thought, stretching my back. “I’ll take it out in the garden.”
As I walk out into the fresh air, hot summer sun warms my skin, and I glance around to see if anyone’s still here. Both Landon and Willow are over by the arbour, still a suitable distance apart for some reason, but I can’t stop the smile that rests loosely on my face as I look at them. It's good that he’s fought Father about the two of them, good that he’s made a decision on his own terms. I don’t really know why he’s always nodded like a dog in the first place, but I suppose all that family tradition doesn’t rest quite so severely on my shoulders as it does on his. Never has.
“Find anything?” he asks, as I approach them both.
“Yes.”
“And would you like to enlighten me?”
“No, not yet, but when I’ve talked with Noah some more, maybe. He’ll meet us at Tallington tomorrow morning.”
“Us? I'm not going tomorrow. I have meetings stacked out and—”
“Yes, Landon. Us. I need to look in the attic, and you need to hold Seffi’s hand while I do that. Considering it was, as she said, your absolute insistence that she come back, then maybe a little big brothering should be going on. Remember, Scott’s with her.”
He grumbles about something as I take a seat and wait for the tea to come. I don't care. I'm just happy to rest my brain for a while. I end up listening to them chatting about something legal to do with someone called Ash. My eyes close after a few minutes, and then I remember this morning in bed, and Blake’s hands, and the very real possibility that these feelings I have are more intrusive than I’m giving them credit for. Maybe that is love. It certainly feels like part of me has been missing these last few hours, no matter how mad I was with him for bringing love into the conversation. And if I’m honest with myself, like Landon said I should be, he has become someone I do feel deeply for, regardless of his hero antics.
I smile and close my eyes, letting the sun warm my bones further. Maybe I should take that risk, just go with it, and see where we end up. Time is what we need, and plenty of it. Without any more Saviour situations.
Chapter Twenty One
BLAKE
It’s surprising how you can change the course of your life in so little time. When I got into this car with Geoffrey, I did need to clear my head. Ivy drove me crazy back there, and I couldn’t see a way to show her that without risking her taking offence at the time. She was, as usual, spirited and fiery, but while I love that about her, I wish she could employ some level-headed calm at times. Her being in danger seems to be the only way that ever seems to kick in.
However, what the argument has done is form a crazy Ivy-esque plan in my mind, and with every passing moment, it's grown into something that I know is the only way forward. So what if I have the Broderick butler to escort me on my mission.
“I can always get a taxi back, Geoffrey,” I say, getting out of the car.
“That won’t be necessary. I am at your disposal.”
“Give me an hour?” I'm not sure how long this will take.
“I’ll be waiting.”
I head off down the busy street with a single purpose. Although, I have a few questions over the specifics.
The first shop I come across isn’t suitable, and it takes me a little while to find something similar to what I have in mind in another shop a few streets down. I ring the bell and wait for the assistant to let me in.
“Can I help you, sir?” The woman is all smiles with her bright red lips and poker-straight long hair.
“Yes, I’m looking for an engagement ring. There’s one in the window that caught my eye.”
“Of course. I’ll bring the tray over.”
Now I'm in the shop, my nerves start up. While I'm sure of my actions, the type and size of ring isn’t such a sure thing.
“Which one was it?” The woman places the tray down in front of me, blinding me with all the diamonds.
I point to the ring that caught my eye.
