Day lilies were in bloom everywhere throwing their orange robustness about defiantly against the cool green grass. Her husband dropped down beside her and touched her nose. “Your hair looks glorious in the sun … gold streaked … you beauty you.” She smiled at him. He was all she thought about these days. Gone was the terror that had taken place at Danfield. She didn’t think of it any longer but had managed to put it in its place. Mac had lost his mind, she told herself. He had killed Johnny. She couldn’t think about that any longer and set it aside. She ran her hand through the earl’s silky black locks and dropped a kiss on his nose. Everything that had happened—all of the things keeping them apart—was gone, and over. That night, he had carried her into the house, with everyone flinging questions at them. He had taken her to her room, but she hadn’t been able to stop shaking. Mac was dead—and it had been him all along. Jason had held her and soothed her, saying, “Hush, it is over.”
