“If you want my heart, I’m not going to second-guess your choice. I’ve spent my life second-guessing myself, my worthiness, and even my sanity.” He gave a humorless laugh. “But I need your love more than anything, and I refuse.” He stepped forward and closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he grasped her hands and pulled her in so that their toes touched. The scent of peppermint and clove clung to his skin, spicing the air around them. “I refuse to choose for you, and I confess that I was. I had made the choice to remove myself from your life, as much as was possible, so that you could find someone better, more worthy. Yet, with every conversation, every look…” He met her eyes, his tormented soul laid bare in his expression. “It haunted me, called to me, and eventually I realized that by removing myself, I’d also made the choice for you, which was unfair. After all our conversations about the place and position of women in our country, I fell into one of the oldest traps of thinking I knew better than you.”

Joan reached up and touched his jaw, sliding her fingers till she cupped his face. Her heart was breaking at his confession, at the bareness of his soul that didn’t see all the wonderful things she saw when she looked at him, talked with him, thought about him. How could someone be so blind to their own glory? She opened her mouth to speak the truth, but he continued.

“And then I had a thought, and it pierced me like an arrow.” He took a deep breath and leaned into her hand’s caress. “I might not be the best man available, but I swear to you, Joan Morgan,” he whispered, “my love for you will be the best love.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she smiled through them. “Yes, yes, it is,” she murmured, reaching up her other hand and cupping his face.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, setting her heart to hammering with the touch. Her blood pounded in her veins with the power of the moment, an she could feel his heart thudding as it echoed hers.

Two hearts.

One soul.

She’d never understood the concept she had read in books until that moment.

“Often the hero is the savior, but Joan…rescue me. You’re the only one who holds my heart. Marry me?” He leaned back, and with a reverent bow, he took a knee and laced his fingers through hers, gazing up at her.

Warm love surrounded her like a song as she nodded through the tears that fell freely down her cheeks. “I can’t imagine loving anyone more than I love you,” she whispered, hiccupping on a mix between a laugh and sob.