Once alone, Fabian took Lillian in his arms. “I cannot think of another time in my life when I’ve been so afraid. If I’d lost you—” His voice cracked.
Despite the rain, for how could they possibly be any wetter, she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before. It spoke of a soul-deep connection. An unbreakable bond. It spoke of a desperate need to make every second count.
Lillian pulled away. “When I speak, can you hear me above this incessant roar?”
“Yes, why?” He wiped the rain from her cheeks.
“Because I want to tell you that I love you. Because I want you to know it is a love that took root long ago, one that has grown deeper over time.”
He bent his head and touched his forehead to hers.
“I have loved you from the moment you stuck your tongue out at me when you were eight. Perhaps even before that. There has never been anyone for me but you. You are the matching half that makes me whole.”
“That’s rather poetic.”
“I cannot take the credit. They are Aristophanes words, but the sentiment is mine.”
“It is a sentiment I share.”
They held hands and strolled back to the castle.
“And what of the treasure?” she said. Was it all nothing more than a drunken tale? “Do you believe the Spanish hid gold here and never returned to claim it?”
Fabian shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. But why chase a dream when the only treasure I need is at my side? One day we will tell our children the story. It can be their legacy, their treasure to find.”
By the time they reached the gates, the black clouds had dissipated to reveal an inky sky bright with stars.
“And what would your philosophers say if they could comment on the night’s events?” she said as they entered their bedchamber.
“Were they alive today, I imagine they would draw on the words of Vergil.”
“What, that all bad fortune is conquered by endurance?”
“No.” Fabian wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed his lips to her cheek, trailed hot kisses down her neck. “That love conquers all.”
Chapter Twenty
The midday sun shone, and the waves broke calmly on the shore as Fabian and Lillian stood with Mackenzie on the landing pier.
“Och, had a twenty-foot wave not swept me off my feet, I’d struggle to believe there’d been a storm.”
No matter how pleasant the day, Fabian would never forget the moment he came close to losing Lillian. “Violent storms bring devastation. Thankfully, only those deserving felt the full force of nature’s wrath.” Fabian captured Lillian’s hand merely to reassure himself all was well.
“I doubt I’ll travel in a rowboat again without taking a spare pair of breeches.” Mackenzie patted the leather satchel draped over his shoulder and winked.
“You have the letter?”
“Aye.”
“Lord Trevane will accompany you when you visit the magistrate. I suggest you both make a statement. Trevane has business in London and will not want to delay.” The need to discover Estelle’s fate burned in Fabian’s chest. She had plunged into the sea with The Torrens and survived. But what then? Vane’s warning that most people had an identical counterpart failed to rouse the faintest flicker of doubt. “A speedy inquest is advisable, and so offer to ferry the coroner and the jury to the island posthaste.”
“Aye, I’ll let Lord Trevane do the talking. I doubt anyone would refuse that man anything. Besides, the sooner they declare Doyle officially dead, the sooner I can marry Mary.”
Lillian squeezed Fabian’s hand. “I take it she accepted your proposal.”
“Aye.” A faint blush touched Mackenzie’s cheeks. “I think I impressed her when I charged into the sea like a Viking warrior.”
Lillian came up on her toes, placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The highly familiar gesture made the man’s face flame. “I wish you both well. After everything that’s happened, you deserve to be happy.”