Page 71 of Lady and the Spy
Graham came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.
“You did that,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Eleanor said. “To remind us.”
He kissed the side of her head. “I need no reminding.”
Eleanor closed the catalogue with a soft thud. “Humor me,” she said.
Graham’s laugh was quiet, warm. “Always.”
Amelia burst into the room, cheeks flushed. “Mama,” she announced, “Bramble has agreed not to eat the flowers if I give him a biscuit.”
Eleanor arched a brow. “And will you give him one?”
Amelia considered solemnly. “Yes. He is very persuasive.”
Graham’s mouth twitched. “Like someone else I know.”
Amelia lifted her chin. “Thank you.”
Eleanor laughed and reached for the biscuit tin. As she did, Graham’s hand found hers and squeezed—once, firm and sure. Joy unfurled deep within her for she had everything she had once believed impossible.
A child’s laughter.
A dog’s steadfast devotion.
A husband who no longer mistook love for weakness.
And a life, finally, that belonged wholly to her.
