She was right, of course. The stone floor was harder than he had anticipated, and his knee was beginning to protest the position. But he was not moving until he had his answer.
“I will accept your conditions,” he said. “But I require an answer first.”
“The answer should be obvious.”
“Obvious is not the same as stated. I have learned, over the months of our acquaintance, that you place great value on precision. I would like a precise answer.”
Mel looked at him for a long moment. Then she looked at the three children watching with barely contained excitement. Then she looked back at him, her expression carrying something that was not quite a smile but was very close.
“Yes,” she said.
The word fell into the silence of the schoolroom, simple and profound and exactly what he had been waiting to hear.
“Yes?” he repeated, wanting to be certain.
“Yes. I will wed you. I will become your wife, and I will continue to be governess to your children until such time as they no longer require instruction, and I will spend the rest of my life ensuring that you live up to the man I know you can be.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise. There’s a distinction.”
He rose from his knee, wincing slightly at the protest from joints that were not as young as they had once been. The ring was still in his hand, the sapphire gleaming, and he reached for her hand with a deliberateness that matched her own.
“May I?”
She extended her left hand, and he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, which he had ensured by stealing one of her existing rings for measurement and returning it before she noticed.
“It’s beautiful,” Viola whispered.
“It’s appropriately sized,” Anna added. “Papa clearly did research.”
“Can we celebrate now?” Thistle demanded.
“Because I’ve been holding Brutus very still for a very long time, and he’s getting restless.”
Mel looked at the ring on her finger, then at the three children, then at the man who had just become her official fiancé rather than merely her presumed one. Her expression was composed, as always, but there was something new in her eyes. Something that looked very much like happiness.
“We can celebrate,” she said, “After we finish the geography lesson.”
“Miss Grace…”
“The Iberian Peninsula. Spain and Portugal. Ten minutes, at most.” She turned back to the map, her manner businesslike despite the ring now adorning her hand.
“Madrid is the capital of Spain. Lisbon is the capital of Portugal. They are located on the western edge of Europe, bordering the Atlantic Ocean.”
Rhys watched her, marveling at her ability to return to educational objectives moments after accepting a matrimonial proposal. This was who she was, this was who she would always be, practical, focused and determined to complete what she had started regardless of emotional circumstances.
He held her in the highest esteem.
“The Atlantic Ocean,” Thistle repeated dutifully.
“Can we celebrate now?”
“In eight minutes.”
“Seven?”
“Eight.”
