“So, why don’t you just take your proposal—and whatever it is in the package—to the woman you really love. I’m sure she’ll graciously accept both.”
“I hope she does,” Ian said, kneeling down on the floor in front of Sarah. He slowly undid the string on the parcel he was holding and unwrapped it, revealing a book inside.
“I ordered this for you nearly three months ago,” Ian explained. “We’d been seeing less and less of each other, and I hoped to impress you—or win you over—with it.”
Sarah glanced down at the book and read the title, aloud,
“The Poems of Robert Browning.”
Ian smiled and looked at Sarah adoringly, and Sarah recalled the book she’d read in Russel’s living room months earlier.
“But, I was reading the work of Elizabeth Barret Browning,” she said. “And, this is the work of—”
“Her husband,” Ian said, cutting Sarah off before she could complete her sentence. “I got it for you because I find his poetry to be filled with much more passion—and, I wanted to share that passion with you through the same words he used to share it with the woman he loved.”
“Oh,” Sarah replied, taking the book into her had. Its leather cover felt cold to the touch, but it warmed her tremendously.
“I remember some of the things I said to you that night four months ago,” Ian wet on. “And, I mean them now a thousand times more than I meant them then… And, as I kneel here before you, I assure you that I feel a genuine love for you, as well for our child in your belly—and, in turn, I resubmit my proposal.
“Sarah Walker, will you marry me?”
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked up to the heavens. Before she answered, she looked down again—and, lo and behold, there, in the open doorway, stood Ralph. He had a heavily sadden look on his face, but, as soon as Sarah’s eyes met his, he smiled, closed his eyes briefly, and nodded. Then, he turned and walked away.
Sarah looked down at Ian and gazed into his dark brown eyes. She regarded his handsome face and strong features. He was a very good-looking man, and a very good man—and he’d just put his heart out on his sleeve.
“Yes, Ian Sawyer, I will marry you,” she said, more composed than ever.
Two weeks later Sarah and Ian were married, and, four months after that, Sarah gave birth to their son, Emanuel Sawyer. He grew to be a sweet child, who was love by all, including his Aunt Caroline and Uncle Russel and his grandparents, who regularly visited him during the travels between England and Philadelphia.
The End
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