“I bought it. Not just the garden. The house too.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? How? I thought you said he’d never sell.”
“Oh, Oliver put in a good word for me. He reminded the duke I’d saved his life on Martinique. Evesham gave me a very good deal.” A satisfied smile curved his mouth.
Harriet shook her head, still amazed. “You’ll live next door to Gryff and Maddie.”
Morgan squeezed her hand. “We’lllive next door to Gryff and Maddie… if you’ll reconsider my proposal.”
He turned more fully toward her and his free hand came up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
“I love you. I’vealwaysloved you. Even when I hated you.” His lips quirked and he shook his head at that wonderful contradiction. “You’re etched into me like one of your maps. Engraved upon my heart. You’re a fire in my brain that I never want to put out.”
The walls surrounding them gave the garden a magical feel, like a fairy bower, and Harriet blinked several times to make absolutely certain she wasn’t dreaming. She opened her mouth to say something, but her throat felt hot and scratchy, and to her utter mortification she felt tears sting her eyes. She gulped and tried to blink them back, but one treacherous teardrop slipped out and ran down her cheek.
Morgan saw it, of course. His lips curved in that smileshe loved so well and her heart almost stopped as he tenderly cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, as if polishing the wetness into her skin.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “This was supposed to make you happy, not sad.”
Another tear slid down her nose and gathered at the corner of her mouth. Morgan bent and pressed his lips to the tiny drop. His tongue flicked out to taste it, and when he straightened he gazed deep into her eyes.
“You’re salty. Like all the important things in life. Tears. Sweat. The sea.”
Harriet finally found her voice. “AmI important to you? Truly?”
“You’re indispensable,” he said solemnly. “My love for you is as deep and as dark as the ocean.”
“But will youleaveme for the sea?” she pressed.
He raised his brows, and the humor returned to his face. “Well, as to that, I should probably tell you that I’m no longer Captain Morgan Davies of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. I’ve resigned my commission.”
“But you love sailing!”
“I love you more. And if I have to choose between the two of you, then I choose you.” He gave an elegant shrug. “I was going to do it anyway. Now that the war’s over the navy has far more captains than it needs.”
“But isn’t there a chance Bonaparte might escape again? He managed it from Elba, after all.”
“He’s being sent to St. Helena this time. He’ll never escape from there. It’s an island right in the middle of the Atlantic, miles from anywhere.”
Harriet sent him a chiding smile. “I know where it is.”
He grinned. “Of course you do, Madame Map.”
“But what will you do if you’re not in the navy?”
“I still plan to sail. The coal from our mine needs transporting from place to place. I’m going to buy my own ship and do that.”
“Will you be away for long stretches of time?”
“Not at all. I told Gryff you were going to be my wife and you wouldn’t like it.”
Harriet’s eyes grew wide and heat stung her cheeks. “You told him that? Oh, God! That was a little presumptuous, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe. But I had hope. Even when you turned me down.” Morgan smiled. “Rhys said I must have really buggered up my proposal, and for once he was right. I’ll do it properly this time.”
Before Harriet could protest, he bent down on one knee, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small leather-covered box.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears, and when he opened the box to reveal a ring comprised of a huge blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds she couldn’t hold back her gasp of delight.
