Blackmoore(90)

J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n

together with so much light that my heart cracked in two. I covered my face with my hands, overcome.

“Kate,” he said in a husky voice, “I am here to ask you one more time if you will spend your life with me. We can be adventurers together. I have followed you this far, my darling girl, and I will follow you wherever you choose to go next. I will love you no matter what happens in the future.

You know me. You know I am capable of being just as stubborn as you. I have given up my home to be with you. And so I ask you to give up your fears to be with me, to believe me, to trust me, to . . .” his voice broke “ . . . to love me, as I love you.”

My shoulders shook.

“Kate . . . are you laughing? Kate, if you’re laughing again, I swear—”

I dropped my hands, showing him my tear-streaked face, and reached for him, and fell into his arms. It felt like home. It felt like the surest home I had ever, or would ever, know. We clung to each other as if we were drowning, and we were the only ones who could save each other.

And then he kissed me, all over my tear-streaked face, my lips, my hair, and I hoped he would never, ever stop. And finally, when I had to pull away to catch my breath, I looked into his eyes, and I said, “I have to tell you something, Henry.”

“You—” I started but had to pause to wipe my nose on my sleeve.

“You are not The Giver of My Heart’s Desire, Henry Delafield.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

“No, listen,” I held his face in my hands. His eyes were soft and lit up, and his gaze roamed all over my face, with such adoration I felt caressed.

He tipped his head toward me and brushed his lips against my cheek.

“I’m listening,” he murmured, and he cupped my face in his hands.

His thumb stroked my cheek, drying my tears.

“You are not The Giver of My Heart’s Desire.” I took a deep breath and smiled as I said, “You are my heart’s desire.”

“Oh, Kate,” he murmured, bending his head to mine. “You are a Romantic, after all.”

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Chapter 40


Five years later


“What do you see ahead of us, love?”

Olivia rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “Only water, Papa.”

“Look again, darling. Do you see the land? Like a shadow in the distance?”

I leaned close, so that her soft, rounded cheek brushed mine, and I pointed to the land rising from the ocean. “Look there. And just wait. It will grow clearer, and then you will see a village full of red-roofed houses, and on a cliff high above the sea, you will see a large house. And do you remember what that is?”

She nodded and blinked her dark-lashed eyes. She had the grey eyes of her father and her great-grandfather.

“What is it?” Henry asked, smiling down at her and at me.

“It’s home.”

The End

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