Hope Between the Pages by Pepper Basham (ebook reader for surface pro .txt) 📕

wanted to afford you a private home during my time away while still giving you close access to Father and Grandmama. So my father gifted me one of the preexisting structures on the property as a wedding gift—without Mother knowing, of course.”

I studied him. His caution would have inspired worry if I hadn’t trusted him so much. “The gatehouse?”

“It’s actually very castle-like, as I told you.” He looked out the carriage window. “Only on a much smaller scale.”

I had basically lived in a bedroom for the past two years as my only personal space, so the idea of living in a gatehouse, even a small one, with Oliver only encouraged my smile.

“Ah, you are not thwarted by my explanation, I see?”

“Not one bit. I’d happily spend time in a closet, let alone a gatehouse, as long as it was with you.”

He rewarded my declaration with a rather thorough kiss. “You are absolutely wonderful, Sadie, and I love you.”

I wasn’t certain why his sweet comment garnered my tears, but his face suddenly blurred and I shook my head. “I can’t believe you gave up your inheritance for me, Oliver.”

“Why not? I wanted to be with you, and if something as ridiculous as my mother’s penchant for social norms threatened to keep us apart, it seemed a fairly easy decision.”

“But won’t you miss the lifestyle? The money?”

He grimaced and brushed his fingers against my cheek. “Wealth is measured in more ways than money, my darling, and I feel rich as a king with you and our dreams.”

“Our dreams?” The words barely rose above a whisper.

“You, me, and a cozy little bookshop. Perhaps with a little Camden or two.” He squeezed my shoulder, tugging me closer. “It sounds rather perfect, if I do say so myself.”

I laughed as I wiped away a rebel tear. Three weeks of these tender memories. Three, and then he’d leave for war. I forced the thoughts away and embraced the moment, the now, and this wonderful dreamlike reality of being with him. Being loved by him.

“And a rather obnoxious amount of kissing, I should think.” He shrugged, feigning a look of pure innocence.

“Then perhaps you should increase the one or two little Camdens to a few more.”

His laugh burst out and he pressed a kiss to my lips then gestured toward the window.

Clearly, my knowledge of gatehouses, which was extremely limited, failed to prepare me for the building appearing through the window. A two-story structure of stone with an archway down the center and a connection overhead with windows everywhere, bay windows on the second floor. Spires rose from the two separate towers on either side of the gateway, offering a castlelike-look, just as Oliver had said.

I leaned closer to the window and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

“I don’t know why I doubted you.” He took my hand and pulled me from the carriage, sweeping me up into his arms before I could take a step. “Let me take you to our castle, my lady.”

Without another look back at the driver or the carriage, he marched forward and, with me helping from my perch in his arms, opened the door. We entered the coziest sitting room I could have imagined. A few simple chairs, a settee, and even—he flipped a switch—electric lights? “Oliver? How did you… ?

“Knowing my mother’s fickleness, I’ve been saving my money for years.” He set me down and closed the door behind us. “Besides, I need to properly prepare for my bride. You’re used to Biltmore, and I wanted this place to be—”

I stopped his words with a kiss, my arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. He was so good. So kind. How I ever managed to catch his eye, I do not know, but I thanked God for the providential fingerprints pasted all over this union, even with its uncertainties.

“It’s perfect. Just being with you makes it perfect.”

After a prolonged expression of my gratitude, which left my hair spilling over my shoulders and his coat in a heap on the floor, we made our way to a little winding staircase at the corner of the room. Across from the stairs, a small doorway led into a kitchen area.

“Sally, the daughter of Granny’s maid, Eliza, is coming to be our cook and help with housekeeping until we can hire someone.”

“Oliver, I can take care of—”

He halted my rebuttal with a kiss. “Well now, that works quite well for stopping arguments, doesn’t it?” He kissed me again. “I’ve created a credit for you in all the shops in Fenwick which you may have need of. You’ll want for nothing.”

I followed him up the stairs, and the next room nearly brought me to tears all over again. Bookshelves, most empty, lined almost every wall, with a few small seating areas situated throughout. “Our library?”

“Our library,” he answered. “Just waiting to be filled, but I already placed a few of my favorites on the shelves.”

I turned to him, my heart so full I didn’t know if I’d be able to speak. It was as if within a few hours, the meetings at Biltmore and the myriad of letters blended into this deeper bond between us. Two parts of the same heart. Two sides to the same dream.

“I wasn’t looking for romance.” I slipped my hand into his as we stared at the room. “That was never in my plans, but then you came, and I feel as though I’ve belonged with you from before our first conversation.”

He gave my fingers a squeeze and walked with me across the room to a little hallway that led over the archway of the gatehouse. “You know how one can identify, most of the time, a good book by the end of the first chapter, and an excellent book by the end of the first page?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yes.”

“You are like an excellent book. I just knew. I didn’t need to read the ending or even the next chapter. I didn’t require all the answers or to have