Watching Harriet and Claymore heading off into town together, the Captain shook his head in disbelief, "No accounting for women's taste," he murmured. Looking up at him with a fresh appreciation of the man and of their relationship, Carolyn paused before offering, "Or the charm of a Gregg. You know that impromptu speech you did for Claymore was really quite lovely. As I said before, you really could have been a wonderful writer." "Thank you," he paused, considering if he could, if he should continue. Silently, he watched her expression, and the happy gleam in her eyes. "but it was hardly impromptu." He gestured toward the seawall, and side by side, they began walking forward slowly. "In fact it had been on my mind for sometime." "What had?" Carolyn asked looking down, an unseen wide smile spreading across her face. 'At last,' she thought, 'at last we get to the point . . . I hope!'
She peeped up, and was surprised to see the conflicted expression on his face as he looked out toward the horizon, as if expecting an answer to his dilemma to appear across the water. "It would not surprise you," he paused again, "I think, to know how very much I value you, value our . . ." "Relationship?" Carolyn offered. Finally smiling down at her, his blue eyes locked on hers, he nodded slightly. "That and quite a bit more in fact. Even though it was distressing, given your cousin's actions, it was quite irresistible to take advantage of the opportunity to tell you at long last what you have become to me, the place you hold in my life and my heart."
"So," she turned, suddenly unable to look up into his face, "you wanted to tell me that . . ." "That . . ." he continued for her, "all of the letters, each passionate, tender word you have been reading with such rapt attention, were not from my past, but rather our present." Seeing her absolute confusion, he hurried on, "You need to know that they were not written for any other woman. They are, in fact, were all written for you – or rather to you."
Having expected the simpler, the expected words, the long awaited, 'I love you,' she was taken aback, and frankly stunned. "So rather than just come out and say you loved me," she blushed suddenly, realizing that in contradiction of hundreds of happy daydreams, he had not been the first to say the words aloud. "Instead of that, you spent all this time writing me love letters even though we were never more than a few feet away from each other the whole time?" Her frustration was mounting, but seeing his woeful expression, she forced herself into silence and furiously grasped her hands together. "And that is precisely why I resisted telling you, kept myself from saying the words for so long," taking what appeared to be a long, deep breath he continued, "I knew silent longing was bearable for both of us, or at least it was until recently. Surely, M'dear, even now that you know how much I do love you," he grinned as her head snapped up and delight filled her expression, "you must accept it carries with it a rather immense burden of frustration as well. Open one door, and you expect to enter the next, and alas my love, the next door doesn't open at all, at least not in your lifetime."
"Aaargh!" she said, waving her hands about, as if swatting at invisible flies. "I beg your pardon," he said confused by the outburst. "The letters!" she bent over and slapped at her knees, "I spotted it with Vanessa, how in the world did I miss it this time? No one keeps their own love letters, and they were perfect, not early drafts, polished and beautifully written. How could you possibly care for someone who is fooled so easily?"
"Not fooled, M'dear. You trusted what you believed to be true. But in fact," with his coy expression, and tug of the ear, she understood perhaps he hadn't mislead her, but certainly had intended for her to mislead herself. Stepping closer, he raised a hand, and gently pushed the hair away from her eyes, "I did tell you there were love letters there in the box, but I never said who they were intended for, did I?"
"No, no you didn't," she admitted ruefully, "but know I'm going to be far more careful and attentive in future. Are you keeping any other things from me that I should know?" For instance, after waiting so long, why now, why today?"
"It was time," he smiled gently, "pure and simple. We had shared struggles and arguments, hope, anxiety and fear. We learned to live together, become a family and love one another. What remains possible or impossible from here, we need to face together." "Ah," she said quietly, "I thought you wanted me to be so caught up in the romance of your letters that you wanted me to fall even more in love with you." "Not a bad plan at that," he grinned. "Did it work?" "No, not really." Eyes wide he looked at her wordlessly. Pushing up on her toes, so her face was only a whisper away from his own, "Having been in love with you for so long, there wasn't anything you could do, needed to do. However, now that I know they are mine, I need you to read them to me, will you?" she said, green eyes shining.
"Of course," he smiled, as they turned back toward Gull Cottage. "And my Captain," she said facing him, "I entirely understand about the doors that close, but surely you know that in that case you seek windows to open – after all there is always a way!" "Indeed, my love, there is always a way," he murmured, as he held open the gate and they walked together into the house.