Chapter Thirty-One
N avigating his phaeton through the congested street, Logan tensed his fingers around the leather reins. As he approached Amelia’s library, he was struck by one indisputable fact.
Caldwell’s carriage was nowhere in sight.
Amelia was gone.
Damn the luck. An invisible fist plowed into his gut.
He needed to get to her. He had to tell her the truth—the truth he should’ve spoken days earlier.
He loved her.
Bollocks, he’d been a pig-headed dolt. Like a fool, he had hurt her deeply and allowed the wound in her heart to ache. Could she forgive him?
Or would she board a steamship for New York and sail out of his life?
Forever.
The fist twisted in his gut.
Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the glint of sunlight against metal. What in blazes was lying on the steps, nearly at the landing?
He slowed the carriage to a stop and bolted up the stairs. Light gleamed against a thin length of silver.
Heathy’s collar.
He lifted it up to examine it. He’d never questioned why steadfastly practical Amelia had chosen a decidedly impractical silver collar for her little mop of a mutt. Now, seeing the engraving on the band, he understood. The outer surface bore the dog’s name in ornate script. But the inside of the band was marked with an endearment that brought Paul’s hearty chuckle to mind.
A bell... for my dear Pixie’s beloved little beast.
Again, the fist twisted into Logan’s belly, deeper and more unforgiving. Tucking the collar inside his pocket, he headed to the carriage. If he managed to find Amelia at the dock, she would be delighted to see he’d found the collar. At least he could count on that. Her response to seeing him was very much more in doubt.
Returning to his phaeton, he spotted Finn’s coach. Evidently, they’d been returning to the library. Mired in the congestion on the avenue, he’d stopped the brougham a few blocks away. Logan watched as Finn let down the steps. Amelia hiked her skirts past her ankles, navigated the ornate metal treads, and rushed down the street.
He knew the moment when she first spotted him standing there, in front of what had been her home. Her brows quirked and her head tilted slightly, as though she wasn’t entirely certain her eyes were not deceiving her.
As she drew closer, her mouth settled into a line, not quite a frown, as though she were making a great effort to maintain a semblance of composure.
Just as he was.
“Looking for something?” Meeting her eyes, he forced a casualness into his voice he did not feel.
The tension in her mouth eased by a fraction. “I believe you know the answer to that question.”
Taking the collar from his pocket, he handed it to her. “I came upon this on the steps.”
As she gazed down at the silver band, her perfect mouth curved into the most subtle of smiles. She drew her fingertip over the engraving. “Thank you. This means a great deal to me.” Her smile broadened. “I don’t know how the little rascal wiggled his way out of it.”
“The wee beast has a strong will. And a sense of mischief.”
“Quite so.” Amelia tucked the collar into her reticule. “If I had known you were coming to wish me well, I would have waited.”
Rays of sunlight danced over the lush red-gold hair she’d piled atop her head and topped with an elegant little black hat. For a long moment, as he took in the rebellious strands framing her face, Logan could think of nothing other than releasing the tresses from the pins which held them properly in place, freeing the waves to tumble unbound around her shoulders.
God above, she was lovelier than a man like him could express.
Amelia’s vibrant spirit was a light in the darkness that had shrouded his heart.
He met her gaze, seeing the questions she could not hide, no matter how resolutely she squared her shoulders and tried to pretend she was simply preparing to say goodbye to a man who’d come into her life for a purpose that was now over and done.
Just as she believed they were over and done.
She still had not puzzled out the elemental truth between them, a truth as clear as the stars in the sky.
He loved Amelia. Beyond all doubt, he knew that elemental truth.
When he held her in his arms, he wanted for nothing else in the universe. And he prayed she felt the same. He had seen love in her eyes. True and enduring, unlike any he’d ever known.
Amelia was meant for him.
And he, for her.
He had never been more certain of anything in his life.
Now, he had to convince her.
“Amelia, there is one thing ye haven’t yet figured out. When yer brother sent for me—when he asked me to watch over ye—he gave me a gift.”
Her eyes flashed with a gentle challenge. “Did he now?”
“He led me to a treasure. To a gift more precious than riches could buy. Yer spirit will keep me intrigued until I am an old man.”
Her top teeth grazed her plump lower lip. “An old man?”
“A very old man.” Reaching for her, he caught her hand in his and brushed a kiss over her satin skin. “An old man whose bones creak as he trudges up the stairs every night to share a bed with his enchanting wife.”
“An old man with creaky bones.” Mischief lit her eyes. “Rather a tempting prospect, I suppose.”
A fierce yearning coursed through him. Amelia was his treasure, infinitely more valuable than the gems in a monarch’s crown.
He wanted her in his arms. In his bed. In his heart.
Tonight.
And every night.
“Ye’ll still be a beauty then. Waiting for me there with your hair lying loose over the pillow.”
She blinked and took a step closer. “By then, my hair will be more silver than ginger.”
The sounds of familiar voices cut over the clatter of a carriage rumbling along the street. Logan glanced up. Finn and Mrs. Langford sat on the driver’s bench of the carriage. The coach slowed to a stop, and Finn offered both a tip of his hat and a word of advice.
“Be a man, ye dolt,” he grinned. “Tell her.”
Cocking her chin in that fetching way of hers, she regarded him for a long moment. “And what might it be... that you need to tell me?”
Steps from the place where he had spent his first night with her, a night during which he’d slept on a torture-rack of a chair while a cheerful dust-mop of a dog licked his hand rather than leave her unguarded, Logan met her keen-eyed gaze. Blast it, he should’ve brought his whisky flask. He had never been a coward. But at a moment like this, a man could surely use a gulp or two of emotional fortification.
Finn was right. It was high time he spoke the truth in his heart.
“No matter if we’re both old and gray and creaky, I will never be able to take my eyes off ye, mo chridhe .”
Had he ever spoken truer words?
Her eyes softened with emotion. “My heart.”
“Amelia, my sweet, I’ll want ye until I take my last breath.”
“But...” Her plump lower lip quivered. “Do you love me?”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Aye. How could ye doubt it, lass?”
Her eyes widened, seeming to drink him in. Glimmers of pure joy danced in her gaze as a smile played on her tempting mouth. “I must say, I’ve never heard the words directly from your lips.”
“Amelia, I was a fool.” He searched her eyes, as if in their depths he would find the answer to the question he desperately needed to ask. In his life, he’d faced down cheats and killers. He had not cowered in the face of danger. Yet now, looking at the beautiful face of the woman he would cherish until his last breath, he felt tongue-tied. At a bloody loss for words.
“Tell me again, Logan.” Amelia’s eyes glistened with tears.
“If ye will have me, I want ye by my side for the rest of my days. For the rest of my nights.” He caught her hands in his. “With every breath... with every beat of my heart, I love ye, Amelia.”
*
I love ye, Amelia.
Waves of emotion crashed over Amelia. Her pulse raced, and she struggled to find her voice. The man she adored had spoken with raw feeling and honesty. Logan was not a man accustomed to flowery words. He was not a man who crafted smoothly spoken seductions.
His gravel-edged declaration had come from the heart. From his soul.
How she’d longed for this moment. Her love for him would hold strong for every moment she had breath. And beyond.
She drank in Logan’s warm gaze. Was that a trace of uncertainty in his eyes? Could it be he truly did not know the depth of her love?
Slowly, he drew the pad of his thumb over her hand, tracing small circles against her skin. “I do not expect ye to make any promises. Not just yet,”
She edged closer. Smiling with all the joy in her heart, Amelia wove her fingers through his sable-brown hair. She didn’t care a whit that curious onlookers had stopped in their tracks, eager to take in the scene.
She didn’t care that Finn and the ladies were hanging on their every word.
At this moment in time, all she cared about was the man who’d spoken the words that made her heart sing.
She cupped her palm against his jaw, delighting in the feel of his skin against hers. “I am not inclined to utter any promises. Or any vows. Truth be told, I don’t really want to say anything.”
Understanding flashed in his eyes. Had her smile given away the truth?
“Is that a fact, lass?”
“It is.” She whispered against his mouth. “All I really want to do is this.”
And then, she kissed him.
Perhaps it was her imagination, but through the haze of her joy, she heard the crowd emit a collective sigh.
And then she kissed him again.
Slowly, reluctantly, they parted.
He caught her hand in his and pressed it to his heart. His gaze seemed to see into her soul. Had he read the uncertainty in her heart?
“Every beat is for ye, Amelia.”
“I do hope this is not all a dream,” she said with a lightness she did not feel.
“A dream?” His smile was by equal parts seductive and adoring and amused. “I am very real, and ye’re very much awake. I do love ye, my sweet lass. More than ye can imagine. Now the question is, do ye love me, too, my sweet Amelia?”
She pulled in a draught of air, willing the words to come. Why was it so hard to tell this man, this man she adored with every fiber of her being, the truth in her heart?
“Oh, Logan.” She glided her fingertips over the curve of his face, over the stubble of new beard on his chin and jaw.
“Say ye love me, lass.”
Swallowing against the emotion welling in her throat, she met his eyes. “I do love you, Logan. Truly, I do.”
He stilled, seeming to take it in. “And ye want to be with me... for a very long time?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “A very long time.”
“’Til death do us part?”
Slowly, she nodded. “’Til death do us part. And perhaps beyond.”
Behind her, the crowd sighed, as if in unison. He grinned, genuine joy lighting his dark eyes.
“So now, Amelia, there’s only one thing left to do.”
“And what might that be?” she whispered.
He retrieved a small velvet-covered box from his pocket. “I’d planned to give this to ye at a more romantic time,” he confessed.
Anticipation swept over Amelia. “I cannot imagine a more perfect moment.”
As he opened the lid, sunlight gleamed off an intricately cut diamond surrounded by tiny emeralds. Her breath caught at the beauty of the ring. If this was indeed a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.
Logan dropped to one knee. His smile warmed her very heart and soul as the adoration in his dark eyes entranced her.
Good heavens. Her heart thrummed with emotion. This is happening... it is truly happening.
When he spoke, Logan’s voice was rough with emotion and an unfamiliar note of uncertainty.
“Amelia, my love, I have a question for ye.”
“Do you now?” she teased, prolonging his misery.
“Aye, I do. Will ye travel to the Highlands with me, my love?”
“I do believe I would enjoy that,” she said, feigning a nonchalant tone.
“And there is one more thing we need to do, my sweet Amelia.”
She blinked against the hot, happy tears in her eyes. “Tell me, Logan.”
He slipped the ring upon the third finger of her left hand. “A Highland wedding.”