Page 108 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“It’s a jacaranda.”
“Maybe we should see if we could grow one at Hartbury. In the Orangery, maybe.”
She shrugged, like mention of the Hall didn’t interest her anymore. And he supposed with her father’s news he didn’t blame her. “How is your father doing? Really?”
She took a seat, and he sat close, careful not to sit too near. “He’s doing well. But needs to take things easy.”
“Is your mum doing okay?”
“She’s been a little like a chook with her head cut off.”
He blinked.
Her lips lifted for a second. “I mean, she’s been a little hysterical, but she’s calmed down a lot now.”
“And your family are all inside?”
She nodded. “I should go.” She half rose.
He clasped her hand. “Before you go, I wanted, I needed to say this.” How he hoped no one else would interrupt them. “Olivia, I’m sorry, so sorry for hurting you. I never meant for you to feel deceived. I suppose after what happened with Trinny and Toni I was protecting myself, not wanting anyone to know who I was. I … I couldn’t afford to risk my heart on someone who only cared about the estate, and who didn’t care about me. George, Veronica, and the others all wanted to protect me too. I honestly thought they’d told you the truth of my identity, but I should have told you myself, and for that I was wrong, and I’m truly sorry.”
She pressed her lips together, wiped under her eyes.
He shifted, his knee brushing hers. “I know this is bad timing, and I’ll let you go soon, but I wanted to ask for your forgiveness.”
She shook her head, and his heart fell. Then she peered up. “I’m the one who is sorry,” she whispered.
Sorry for ever meeting him? Sorry for trusting him?
Then she flung herself into his arms and whispered against his neck, “I’m sorry for getting carried away and misunderstanding.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed, revelling in the feel of her, the scent of her, the fact that she was in his arms again.
He closed his eyes. This was how it should be. Them, together. No matter where in the world they might be. “I love you, Olivia,” he murmured. “I missed you so much it felt like my heart was ripped out and I could barely breathe.”
She snuggled closer. “I missed you too.” Then her lips were on his jaw, his cheek, and then his mouth. “I love you.”
The bench seat creaked beneath them as he took his time kissing her, his hands tunnelling into her hair, savouring the feel of her, the fact that things were finally being made right. It might’ve been Christmas two days ago, but right now felt like the ultimate gift. Forgiveness. Grace. Love. His heart expanded. Oh, he loved this woman, loved her,loved—
A cleared throat drew them apart. He lifted heavy eyelids to see her family standing at the window, amusement on every face, except for one. A middle-aged woman, who blended Veronica and Liv in equal measure, who stood on the front step, scowling.
She raised her eyebrows, just like Liv. “I suppose you are the gardener man.”
He stood and helped Liv to her feet too. “Um, I’m Liam Fitzbrowne.”
“Fitzbrowne?” She blinked. “Not Sir William Fitzbrowne’s son?”
He winced. “He was my father, yes.”
Her eyes rounded. “Then you own Hartbury Hall.”
“Mum,” Liv murmured.
“Yes, although technically it’s in the hands of the Hartbury Hall trust—”
“Oh my dear boy!” She hurried down the steps and hugged him. “I’m Elizabeth Bennett, and can I say you arejustlike Mr. Darcy who owns Pemberley!”
“Mum!” Liv disentangled him from her mother’s clasp. “He’s not exactly Mr. Darcy.”
