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“I’m glad. And I’m proud.” Surprisingly, his next admission was the hardest one to make. “The exhibition...”
“Oh!” She laughed, snuggled into his embrace. “I completely forgot. Tell me everything.”
“When I dropped by last week, they gave me a tour of the studio. Right now, it’s just a spare room, but come spring they’ll have a new addition to the clinic.” He smiled slightly. “There was an older woman in the back corner of the room when I visited. She wasn’t done, but her canvas was partially covered by a field of flowers. Square ones, diamond-shaped, rectangles and all sorts of colors that shouldn’t work. But they did. She told me how she started drinking after her husband passed away. How she was painting the field where he proposed and how the art helped her process her husband’s death. Helped her stop drinking. It got me thinking. Maybe other people would like to see their artwork, too, hear their stories. That maybe I could do more to help. Recovery will open with featured artwork from members of the clinic’s art therapy program. Admission fees will fund treatment. Artists can be anonymous, but most are sharing their names. They have the option of keeping their work when it’s over, or having it auctioned off at a gala to celebrate the end of the exhibition.”
“Griffith...” Her tremulous smile made his blood sing.
“It’s a step. Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive the man who hit my car. Forgive myself for all the years I wasted not dealing with my mother’s death.”
“You don’t have to do it alone.”
He slipped an arm under her legs and the other behind her back as he lifted her up, held her tight for a moment and then set her on the bench next to him. Before she could move, he slid off the bench and got down on one knee.
Her eyes widened. “Griffith...”
“You make me want to be a better man, Rosalind. You make me want to be the best I can be. And while I’m terrified I will let you down, I want to try. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning. I want to hear your thoughts, live with you in our chateau by the sea with five or six kids running around.”
“Six?” she asked with a laugh. “How about three?”
“Four.” He kissed her again, simply because he could, and then reached into his jacket pocket. When he flipped the lid open on the white velvet box, she gasped.
“This was my mother’s.” The yellow pear-shaped diamond winked up at them, set on a gleaming silver band and surrounded by smaller jewels. “Rosalind, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
The words had barely left his lips when she flung her arms around him.
“Yes! Yes, Griffith!”
Laughing, he pulled back long enough to slide the ring onto her finger before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the far side of the capsule. The sun hovered just above the horizon. The timeless landmarks of London, from the sprawling walls of the Houses of Parliament to the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral, lay below them.
He set her on her feet and pulled her snugly into his side.
“We missed almost the entire ride to the top.”
Rosalind held out her hand, the ring glinting in the evening light.
“I’m not disappointed.”
He cut her laugh off with another kiss.
“How soon will you marry me?”
“As soon as you want me to.”
“I can bribe a justice as soon as we reach the bottom,” he said. Then, seeing her pointed look, laughed and said, “All right, a week?”
“How about long enough for me to plan my dream wedding?”
“You don’t already have it planned?” he teased.
She smiled up at him. “Bits and pieces. But I was missing the most important part. Until you.”
EPILOGUE
ROSALIND SIGHED AND wiggled deeper into the embrace of the plush egg chair in the garden. Spring had finally come to France, ushering in warm temperatures and budding blooms. Exhaustion and a vague sense of nausea had kept her inside the past week. But when she’d seen the green in the rose garden, heard the faint whistle of a bird outside her window, she hadn’t been able to resist going outside.
She had nearly fallen asleep when a shadow fell across her. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw her husband standing above her with a cup of tea in hand.
“Hello.”
