Page 86 of Undercover Infidel
“And old libraries,” Lex added with a smile that reached her eyes.
As we progressed through the meal, our conversation flowed easily, touching on memories of our time together and plans for the future. I found myself entranced by the way the candlelight played across her features, highlighting the intelligence in her dark eyes and the subtle curve of her lips.
When dessert arrived—a chocolate soufflé that Mrs. Thorne had perfected over decades—I knew the moment had come. My heart hammered against my ribs, a reminder of how completely this brilliant, challenging woman had dismantled my defenses.
“Before we finish,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “there’s something I want to say.”
Lex set down her spoon, her expression curious.
“When you first arrived at Blackmoor, I saw you as an intrusion. An outsider who represented everything I distrusted about institutional bureaucracy.” I smiled at the memory. “I was wrong.”
“About the bureaucracy?” she teased.
“About you.” I reached across the table, taking her hand. “You challenged me, pushed me to be better. You saw through the walls I spent a lifetime building, and instead of exploiting that vulnerability, you honored it.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“These past two weeks, even before that, watching you move through Blackmoor as though you’ve always belonged here, I’ve realized something profound.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I don’t want to imagine this place—or my life—without you in it.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes as I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small velvet box.
“This belonged to my grandmother,” I said, opening it to reveal a platinum ring set with a brilliant-cut diamond flanked by rubies. “It’s been in the Carnegie family for generations.”
I moved to her side, kneeling despite the twinge in my healing wound. “Margot Sterling, will you marry me?”
For a moment, she stared at the ring, her composure giving way to naked emotion. Then her eyes, shining with unshed tears, met mine.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Conrad.”
I slipped the ring onto her finger, marveling at how naturally it belonged there. When I rose, she stood with me, her arms encircling my neck as our lips met in a kiss that sealed our promise.
“It’s beautiful,” she said when we parted, examining the ring in the candlelight.
“It suits you.” I brushed a tear from her cheek. “The way it sparkles reminds me of your eyes the first time you challenged me in this very room.”
She laughed softly. “I was so determined to dislike you.”
“And now?”
“Now, I can’t imagine my life without you.” She rested her hand against my chest, the ring catching the light. “Though I expect you’ll still infuriate me on occasion.”
“I’d be disappointed if I didn’t.” I grinned. “Your mind is never more beautiful than when you’re proving me wrong.”
Later, as the evening deepened into night, we stood together on the battlements of Blackmoor. The Highland air carried the scent of heather and pine, and stars scattered across the velvet sky.
“What about our careers?” Lex asked, her head resting against my shoulder as we looked out over the moonlit estate. “MI6 and Unit 23 are two entities that don’t exactly accommodate married couples.”
“We’ll make it work,” I assured her. “Units have been crossed before, rules bent. And if the institutional constraints become too limiting”—I shrugged—“I’ve operated independently for years. We could establish our own consultancy.”
She considered this. “Partners in every sense.”
“Precisely.”
“And Blackmoor? Will you want to stay here full time?”
“This is home,” I said, gesturing to the ancient stones beneath us. “But it’s not the only place we could be. London, Edinburgh, wherever our work takes us—as long as we return here.”
She nodded. “It feels right. Coming back to Blackmoor.”
