Chapter 8: The Hands of Honest Labor
Sebastian Harrington spent every weekend at the farm, shedding his tailored suits for canvas work pants, heavy flannel shirts, and leather work boots.
Alongside Tess, he spent hours repairing the conservatory’s timber frames, replacing cracked glass panes, and building a wide, child-safe wooden ramp leading from the farmhouse to the garden beds so Leo could walk without assistance.
One Saturday afternoon, while lifting a heavy cedar beam into place, Sebastian paused, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Tess walked over, handing him a cold mason jar of fresh lemonade.
""You don't look like a Newport heir right now, Mr. Harrington,"" Tess smiled, her hazel eyes dancing with warmth.
""Good,"" Sebastian chuckled, taking a long drink. ""My grandfather used to say that a man who only knows how to sign checks doesn't know how to build a life. Working with these hands is the only honest thing I do all week.""
He looked at her, his gaze lingering on her soft, radiant face. The shadow of the bruise was gone, replaced by the healthy, golden glow of coastal sun.
""You saved me that night, Sebastian,"" Tess said softly, her voice dropping into quiet reverence.
May you like
""No, Tess,"" Sebastian replied, his eyes locked onto hers with absolute truth. ""You saved yourself the moment you refused to lie. I just held the light so everyone else could see it.""
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