“I know,” he assured her. “I was just being supportive.”
She elbowed him in the side.
“You might be the better craftsman,” he said, “but after nine years of marriage, I know a thing or two about love.”
“Who said anything about love?” she muttered.
“Your face did.” He slanted her a look. “When you love someone, you find a way to be together.”
Her throat prickled. “He’s already gone.”
Because she’d told him to leave.
Because he’d tossed off two ridiculous options, and she hadn’t suggested any.
“Is he?” Luther let go of her arm.
Angelica glanced in the direction he indicated.
There, in the castle’s open doorway, was Jonathan.
Her thoughts muddled.
“He’s not here for me,” she babbled. “I’d invited him to church and to dinner, and he probably felt honor-bound to come...”
“Uh-huh.” Luther took an exaggerated step aside. “Nothing to do with you at all.”
She couldn’t see Jonathan’s face.
His body was silhouetted by the warm light spilling from the castle. It was exactly like that first moment she’d glanced up from her work to discover a friendly Scot in her shop. Back then, she had thought nothing of yet another tourist passing through. But they were no longer strangers. Now when he left, he would take a piece of her soul with him.
Heart pounding, she closed the distance between them.
The lover’s locket she’d given him was affixed to his left lapel. It hung open. The brooch was no longer empty. Her own eye gazed out at her. Sketched with pen; painted with watercolor. A bold pronouncement pinned to his chest that his heart was spoken for.
It belonged to her.
“I’m sorry I let you down,” he said, before she could say the same. “I’ve been so used to my life being a certain way that I failed to envision what a new way would look like. What itshouldlook like.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll stop.”
She frowned. “Stop what?”
“Everything. I’ll stop running, I’ll stop traveling, I’ll stop...” He gestured helplessly. “I’ll stop being afraid. Or at least, I won’t let fear stopme. I love you, Angelica. No place would ever be home without you in it.”
She took a breath. Compromise. Love was worth it. “You adore travel just as much as I adore crafting jewelry. I didn’t want you to stop beingyou. I wanted us to beus. For more than twelve days a year.”
He touched her cheek. “I may not have a house to offer you, but I do have my heart, my soul, and my life. Those are the things I want to share with you forever. Wherever ‘forever’ happens to be.”
She leaned her cheek into his warm palm and gazed up at him with all the love in her heart. “Don’t try to please me. Tell me whatyouneed. We’ll find a way.”
“I need you,” he said without hesitation, then paused. “And to travel. It’s part of me. I’d like it to be a part of us. Something we do together. Not always—you need your shop, too. But sometimes.”
“What if we stayed here during the winter season, and took frequent trips to London to visit my family?Ourfamily,” she quickly corrected herself. “They’ll be yours, now, too.”
“I’d like that,” he said softly. “What if you came with me sometimes, on journeys to deliver catalogues or whatever future investments might hold?”
“I would adore that.” An even better idea occurred to her. “What if we took the long way home on those trips, making sure to visit places that are new to us both? We can be adventurers together.”
In response, he placed her hand over the lover’s locket. His pulse thrummed beneath, strong and eager.
