“It’s not my dream,” he said, feeling more confident in his decision than he had ever felt before. Simply looking at Fern reassured him he was making the right choice. “You were right, I want to teach.”
“You can’t come with me, we would have to be—” Fern cut herself off and brought her hand to her lips. Alex sat up on one knee before her. He held up his grandmother’s ring, a modest silver circle with a sliver of emerald. He found it tucked in this bag after he left Birmingham, with a note from his mother saying simply,just in case.
“Fern,” he said, and heard her exhale a whimper. “I told you I couldn’t imagine my future without you, and I meant it. I want to be a part of your life, wherever it may be. Please, will you do me the honor of calling me your husband?”
Fern stared at him, her eyes full of hope and disbelief, joy and even fear. “That’s—you truly want me?” she whispered.
“Of course.” He dropped to both knees and took her hands, pulling her until their bodies were flush. “It could never be anyone but you.”
She pressed her lips to his, laughter escaping as he felt the moisture of her tears on his cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. “Of course, a million times yes.”
Alex pressed his palm against the back of her neck, his fingers lacing in her hair as he deepened their kiss. They leaned back together against the blanket, Alex’s body pressing into hers.
“When can we marry?” she asked, running her hands through his hair.
He laughed. “As soon as you would like. In a month?”
“How quickly can your mother be here?” Fern replied, calculations running through her mind.
Alex pressed his lips to hers, never wanting to be separated from her again. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, then,” she said, her face split into a smile. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter 37
Southampton, August 1899
Thethingoldbandon her left hand spun easily under Fern’s thumb. Glancing down, she stared at the two rings circling her finger, the tiny emerald set in silver Alex gave her on the riverbank, and the gold band she had worn every day for the past two weeks. She was not yet accustomed to their presence, nor to her new name.
Mrs. Carroway,the porter had called her when he came to collect her trunk, full of the possessions she found worthy enough to tote across the Atlantic to start her new life.The weight of what she was leaving behind felt much heavier.
The enormousocean liner and dock sprawlingbefore them was a hub of activity as passengers lined up to board, and dock workers hauled luggage and supplies onto cargo holds.The pungent odor of decaying fish and the cries of gulls overhead nauseated her, and she wavered on her feet.
“You’re doing it again.” Alex caught her hand in his, raisingitto kiss her fingers. “You’ll spin them right off if you keep it up.”
Fern rested her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit nervous.”
“You have every right to be,” Alex replied. “But,” he said, drawing a notebook from his jacket pocket, “it probably won’t surprise you I’ve been doing some research on Boston.”
Fern pressed her lips together, unable to fight her smile. “And what did you learn?”
He studied his list. “Did you know Boston is famous for its beans?”
Her eyes widened. “Beans?You must be joking.”
He shook his head, the picture of solemnity. “It is the site of numerous important events in the American Revolution. Also baseball. We’ll have to learn if we are going to be true Bostonians.”
Fern wrinkled her nose. “I’ll leave that to you while I find the nearest library and museum.” She glanced behind her and scanned the crowd. “Do you think she’ll come?”
Alex put his arm around her and squeezed. “I don’t know.” He kissed the top of her head. “You can always visit, we will save for tickets.”
The passengers around them shuffled forward towards the ramps as the second-class passengers were cleared to board. Their transatlantic passage had been a wedding present from Fern’s father. Her mother and sisters did not attend the small service held in the morning room of Boar’s Hill. It was hard to fully experience the joy of marrying Alex when someone so important was missing.
Alex sighed and held out his arm for her. “Shall we?” His light tone was forced, and Fern struggled to fight the tears pricking at her eyes. She couldn’t just leave, not with so much left unsaid.
“Fern!”
She spun quickly, standing on her toes to scan the crowd. In the distance she could see a wide-brimmed white hat bobbing among the sea of faces, pushing its way toward the edge of the dock where they stood. “Fern, wait!”
