Chapter Thirty-Five #2
“Good afternoon, Linus.” She slid to the end of the bench on which she sat, making room for him without hesitation. With Arabella, there was always room for him, something he’d not always been granted by his loved ones.
He sat beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and threaded her arm through his.
They had established that pattern between them.
He would normally have laid his hand atop hers and adjusted his position until they were tucked cozily together.
This afternoon, however, he had pressing matters to attend to.
“I have something for you,” he said. Charlie would likely have dismissed the beginning as too ordinary. Artemis certainly would have.
“Have you?” Though she sounded interested, she didn’t pull away. His company appealed to her more than a gift. Was it any wonder he loved her so dearly?
He reached into his pocket with his free arm, grateful that their current arrangement allowed for easy access. His fist clenched tightly around the small bauble, afraid of both losing it and discovering she was unimpressed by it.
“It must not be very large,” she said.
“It isn’t.” He set his fist on his leg, suddenly nervous.
She reached across and gently, tenderly turned his hand over and peeled back his fingers one at a time until his hand lay open, the bead in the middle of his palm. Carefully, she placed her thumb and forefinger on either side of the bead and picked it up.
“It comes from Greece,” he said. “It is made of boxwood, the same variety as my lyre.”
“I love when you play your lyre.” She closed her fingers over the bead and pressed it to her heart. “This is the same wood?”
He nodded.
“It will be like having a piece of you with me.”
He took her hand in his and raised it, the bead inside, to his lips. “I don’t imagine I will ever be able to pass up another bead as long as I live. Soon enough, you’ll have the oddest necklace in all the world.”
She smiled. “I would love that.”
“Of course, giving them to you will be difficult if you are in Notting-
hamshire.”
Her countenance fell. “And we are leaving soon.”
“Do you have to?” He turned, necessitating that the arm threaded through hers pull free. He took hold of her hand instead, now holding both of hers in both of his.
“My family—” For a fraction of a moment, she paused, amazement pulling at her features. “My family is leaving.”
He knew full well what it meant to her to be part of the Jonquil family. She’d told him in detail the dreams she had harbored all her life. Belonging to a family, being loved and cherished and cared about, mattered to her deeply.
“Don’t you see, Arabella? My family is leaving as well.”
Her brow pulled low in confusion. “Your family left weeks ago.”
He slipped a hand free and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “You are my family. You are home to me.”
“And you are home to me.”
Relief and hope pulled a sigh from him. He knew enough of her history to have wondered if she could ever learn to trust his declarations of devotion. It seemed she had.
“Have you been happy here?” he asked.
“Have you?” It was not at all the answer he’d been expecting. His confusion must have shown. She smiled a little. “I know returning was difficult for you, and the memories you’ve been confronting are often heavy.”
“I’ve made it my own, as you suggested all those weeks ago. And you’ve allowed me to speak of my brother without pressing me or insisting that I suddenly stop grieving.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Have I thanked you for that?”
“You have now.”
For one who had arrived with a very specific purpose in mind, he had wandered far afield.
She was happy with the bead he’d given her, had expressed tenderness for him, had sat in his embrace.
Everything indicated she would accept his proposal, yet he was still nervous.
Were all gentlemen uneasy when undertaking this momentous task?
“I didn’t seek you out only to give you the bead,” he said. “I wanted to ask you something.”
A tiny, silent laugh shook her frame. “You have actually asked a lot of questions since you joined me here: Do I have to leave? Have I been happy? Have you thanked me for being a wonderful person?”
“I’d like to ask one more.”
She watched him, waiting.
“Will you—Would you consider—?” He shook his head at his own ridiculousness. He was a man of the navy. He had fought in wars. Losing his nerve, especially when reaching for something he wanted this desperately, was not acceptable. “Will you stay with me?”
Hope warred with uncertainty in her eyes. “In the garden?”
“In this home. In my life.”
Her hand, still clutching the bead he’d gifted her, pressed once more to her heart. She took a shaky breath. “I have been wrong about important things before, Linus. Please, don’t make me guess.”
That was fair. He slipped one arm around her middle, then the other.
He pulled her close to him, so close the flowery scent of her tiptoed over him.
“Arabella Hampton, I love you. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. The two of us have spent so many years searching for a place in our families. In meeting you, I found my place. I found my family. I found where I belong. If there is any chance you might have found the same—”
“Linus.” His name emerged as a scold and a plea.
He was still wandering around his point. The time had come to be bold. “Will you marry me?”
An exhaled breath lowered her shoulders as if a world of tension had suddenly dissipated. “Linus.” This time, she spoke his name with contentment. She leaned into his embrace, her head resting against his chest. “Linus.”
“Now it is my turn to plead for you to not make me guess.”
“I love you,” she said. “And I cannot imagine my life without you.”
“Are you saying yes?” His heart pounded even as his lungs contracted.
She pressed a feather of a kiss on his cheek. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He brushed his lips over hers. “I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her more fully, more deeply.
She held fast to him and he to her. For so long, he had silently cursed fate for tearing him away from home and family, yet fate had brought him to her.
His life, with its holes and gaps and loneliness, had filled with love and joy and hope.
“I love you,” he said again. “And I will love you forever.”