“I didn’t realize you were there.”
My mother stomps her foot. “Tell me your reaction to reading Margot’s letter! I am dying over here.”
“I… I’m going to go meet her,” I say, swallowing. “Papa was right… no half measures this time. I’m going to the gardens alone and leaving with a fiancée, come what may.”
My mother throws her hands up, squealing with glee, and bounds over to me for a hug. “That’s so wonderful, Stellan!”
My father digs in his pocket and pulls out a ring box. “You will probably need one of these.”
My eyebrows fly up. “A ring?”
He coughs. “Your mother dragged me along to the Copenhagen treasury after we met Margot for the first time. Your mother knew that you would need a ring.”
“Ohh, and it’s so perfect! It was your great grandmother’s ring. Sparkly and pretty. It will look great on her delicate little hand,ja?”
Pulling me over to my father, my mother opens the ring box. I look at the ring with wide eyes.
“This is really happening,” I say.
“Yes!” my mother sings, beaming so wide that it’s hard not to get caught up in her happiness. “I’m so happy for you, my Stellan.”
She cups my face, kissing me on the cheek. I smile, rolling my eyes a little.
“She hasn’t said yes yet.”
My father smiles softly. “I think we all know just what she’ll say.”
Shaking my head, I tuck the ring box in my pocket and wish my parents goodbye.
Chapter Forty
Margot
There is something tranquil about standing just where I am with my eyes tightly closed. The scent of gently blooming jasmine rises to my nose. Birds chirp from the perfectly manicured greenery all around me.
I exhale slowly, my hands still trembling. Opening my eyes, I take in the beauty of the romantic gardens with the soft pink wild roses growing up and around the natural wood gazebo.
I’m so nervous that I can’t think straight. What if Stellan never saw my letter? Worse, what if he did and still doesn’t show up?
This whole idea was really romantic in my head, but now… standing here in the same outfit I was wearing when we met, sweating through my clothes…
It seems destined to fail. Biting at my thumbnail, I pace the gazebo. Eight steps one way, eight steps the other.
This plan was not well thought through.
I hear a rustle and whirl around. The rose garden justbeyond the gazebo is still. The tree lined path leading away is long, empty, and all but silent.
I check the time on my phone. 3:15.
God, Stellan isn’t coming. I signed myself up for waiting all night for him… but I am as sure that he’s not coming now than I have been about anything in my whole entire life.
I head to the steps, sitting down and burying my face in my hands. I suck in a shaky breath.
“What are you doing on the ground,skatter?”
My heart pounds. I look up and my eyes widen. Stellan strolls down the path, looking as dapper as he’s ever looked in a tuxedo and a crisp white shirt.
One of my hands clutches my chest over my heart. “You came,” I whisper.
