THE CAVERN OF DEEP HARMONY
PART NINETY-FOUR:
Sometime in the wee hours Harmer came back into the bedroom, finding Susannah seated on
the side of the bed, holding both his hands in hers. "Still the same?" he asked, discouraged. "No, Papa. He woke up and we talked. He's in very much pain, though, I fear." Harmer came up beside the bed, holding the candle he carried closer. Morgan looked as he had
the last he'd seen him. "You're sure it wasn't a...." "No, Papa, it wasn't a dream. I explained to him what happened but he has a hard time staying
awake." Morgan moaned and opened his eyes. "Mr....Mr. Well...Wellington." He blinked slowly several
times. "Good to see you back, my boy. You had the lot of us mightily worried." "I...you...." He closed his eyes. "Two...two of you." "Double vision, is that what you mean, son?" "Mmmmm." "I'll talk to Graves about that come morning. You rest as best you can. And you, Susannah, I
must insist...." "I'm fine, Papa. I slept a while." "Not enough." "Enough for now." She lifted one of Morgan's hands to her cheek. Turning her face to her
father, the hand still held in place, she said, "He came back." Mogan, his eyes closed, smiled slightly. "Love you," he mumbled then he faded again. "What are we going to do with him, Susannah?" Harmer asked. "He can't go back alone to that room on Francis Street. No one will watch over him there." Harmer studied his daughter. Yes, without sight, she was, indeed, watching over him. "We
shall discuss that in the morning," he said, not knowing what else to say at the moment. "Let
us see what Dr. Graves says about his condition." Susannah dozed from time to time the rest of the long night, but mostly sat, holding his hands
or touching his face. When Harmer came back in the morning, he watched her more for a time.
His daughter was utterly changed from the young woman who knew nothing of loving or being
loved by someone her age. Morgan had come into her world and everything was different...she
was different. She seemed more a woman now than a girl. The expressions he saw on her face
had nothing to do with girlish things. Still, it would not work for him to allow a young man to
remain in his house with his daughter. Perhaps he could hire someone to care for Morgan at
the boarding house? "Suh." Myra was standing in the doorway. "Doc Graves done come, Suh." "Thank you, Myra. Please show him on up." "Mmmmmmm." Morgan was rousing again. Good, Harmer thought. It would be best if he were awake when
Graves were here. Doctor could probably tell me about how he was doing that way. "Good morning, Harmer," Graves said, entering the room. "How is the young man?" Susannah
had moved to the chair and Dr. Graves leaned over the bed, lifting one of Morgan's eyelids. "Ahhh!" Morgan moaned. "Hurts." "The light hurts?" Morgan nodded then nearly lost consciousness again, his face contorting with pain. Graves
exchanged a look with Harmer. "Can you open your eyes?" he asked Morgan. Harmer pulled the velvet overcurtains, blocking out most of the morning sunlight. Morgan lifted
his lids halfway. Graves held up a forefinger. "How many?" "T...two," Morgan gasped then closed his eyes. Graves drew in a long breath. "Man's got a really severe concussion," he said, straightening.
"Could take him some weeks to get past this, maybe more." "Weeks?" Harmer hadn't expected that. "Needs rest, lots and lots of rest. Not much moving around. These things can be slow, Harmer."
He set about unwrapping the bandage Myra had put around Morgan's throat. "I see Myra did
her usual excellent job. Her ointment works better than mine." He made a fresh bandage for it.
"Just keep it clean and it should heal fine." When Graves had gone, Harmer pulled a chair around close to where his daughter sat. "I shall
hire someone trustworthy, Susannah, to stay at the boarding house with Morgan." "No." "No? What do you mean 'no', Susannah? I can think of no other way to deal with this. Morgan
may have a long convalescence and needs someone there for him." "Yes, he does." "Who do you have in mind?" "Me." Somehow he'd thought she'd say that. He sighed. "That is not possible, my darling, you know the
two of you together cannot be allowed. I have made an exception this last night because of its
emergency nature, but you cannot continue in this manner. Surely you must know that." "I do know that." "Then what are you saying?" "I want him to remain here, in our house." "Have I not just said that is not possible?" "You have." "Why then...?" "I wish to make it possible." "He...he's right, Sus...Susannah," came Morgan's weak voice from the bed. "I can't...can't stay
here." "Why can't you stay here? I want to hear you say why you can't." "Be...because your rep...reputation...be ruined. Can't." "Do you think I care about that?" "I c...care." Harmer smiled in spite of himself. Morgan was a good man. "Thank you, Morgan," he said.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into her." "I...I should go...now." "Can you even lift your head off that pillow?" Susannah asked, knowing well the answer. He tried to raise himself up, pushing with his elbows, gasped and fell back, almost passing out.
Susannah waited a while for him to recover, she needed him conscious for what she intended to
say. "What are you waiting for now?" Harmer asked. "You shall see soon enough," she smiled. "Need help," Morgan managed. "Get...downstairs. Need help." He looked blearily at Harmer. "I can get Micah and Joel," Harmer offered. "That won't be necessary," Susannah said firmly. "Susannah! Enough of this! Morgan is right. You don't even have a brother in this house we
could say he's visiting. There's just me and you and you are a young unmarried woman." "What if I weren't?" "What could you possibly mean by that?" Susannah moved again, sitting on the side of the bed, taking Morgan's right hand. "Morgan
Kent," she said, holding her voice steady with some effort, "will you marry me?" "What!" Harmer burst out. "Wh...what?" Morgan gasped, feeling quite dizzy. "I said," she straightened her shoulders, kissed his hand, "will you marry me?" "Susannah! You've seen him twice! I know I've...." "Yes, you have, Papa. The bottom line is, do you trust me to know my own heart?" "Do I...?" He stared at his only child. She was a level-headed girl, no, woman, and had never
been given to flights of fancy, fits of temperament, or self-indulgence. Her blindness had brought
an early seriousness and maturity, but she was not really very experienced with men. Then he
gazed at Morgan, remembering the light in his eyes as he looked at Susannah, his kindnesses, his
thoughtfulness, how she had laughed so happily when he'd gotten her to dance. "I trust you, my
darling one," he said softly. "It's just that I...." "Morgan, do you love me?" His head was pounding because his heart was racing so. "With...with all my heart, Susannah.
But...." "What possible 'but's' can there be?" "How...how can you be sure...of me...how you feel?" "I've never been so sure of anything in my life, Morgan Kent." She meant that with every fiber
of her being. "Is...is...this just so I won't...go?" "That may be the catalyst of the moment," she admitted, "but it's what I want. You are what I
want. And I want you here, with me, forever, not just while you're getting well, you hear me, but
forever." "You're really serious, Susannah?" Harmer questioned, hundreds of thoughts racing madly
through his head. "Never more so, Papa." "Morgan?" Harmer asked, coming now to stand close to the other side of the bed, looking down
at him. "How do you feel about this?" "I...I...want to get on my knees...ask her proper." "You do want to marry her, then?" "I never...never...dreamed she would...want me...like that." Susannah kissed his hand again. "Is that a yes, my darling?" "N...no. I won't...can't have you ask me. Not right." He screwed his eyes tightly shut, gathering
himself. "They...they say that sometimes no matter what the attitude of the body, the...the soul is
on its knees. I ca...can't get on mine right now," he paused for several deep breaths, "want to but
can't. So, Sus...Susannah, can you take this from me as though I...were? My...my soul is on its
knees. Can...can that be enough?" Silently she leaned forward, kissing his lips very softly. He covered his face with his hands for a moment and when he let them fall away, Harmer saw
there were tears in his eyes and held his own breath, waiting. "Mr. Well...Wellington, I'd like...
like to ask you, Sir, for the honor of your daughter's hand in marriage." Harmer's eyes began to sting. He looked from his sightless daughter to the struggling young man
on the bed, who was trying so hard to do everything right for Susannah's sake. They fit. Good
Lord in heaven the two of them did just...fit. "Yes, Morgan," he said, "you have my blessing." Tears began to stream down Susannah's face, tears she ignored because all her concentration
was on Morgan. Morgan forced his eyes fully open and reached for her left hand, which lay in
her lap as she sat on the bed. One by one he slowly, tenderly kissed each of her fingertips then
lay her palm over his heart and pressed his atop it. "Susannah Wellington," he said, his voice
stronger than before, "will you grace my life by consenting to be my bride?" A ragged sob tore out of her, then she straightened again. "Yes," she replied, "yes with all the
love in my heart behind it." "I'll call the Rector," Harmer said. "Today." "Yes, Susannah, today. Is that all right, Morgan?" Morgan had never once considered he'd get married flat on his back or, worse, spend his wedding
night unable to lift his head from a pillow, but, well, this was Susannah. "Today," he echoed,
barely remembering not to nod his head. A sudden thought hit him. "No...no ring." "I would be both pleased and honored, Morgan, if you would consent to give my daughter the
ring I gave her mother twenty years ago." "Tr...truly, Sir?" "Oh, Papa!" Susannah cried. "I'd love that! Mama's ring, yes!" "Guess that settles...that," Morgan managed, feeling himself starting to drift as the constant pain
tired him quickly. "You rest now, Son," Harmer said, a deeper fondness in his voice. "I'll make arrangements." And so it was that wearing Harmer Wellington's night shirt and unable to lift his head, Morgan
Kent, quite newly arrived in America, married Miss Susannah in a bedroom with George
Washington, Thomas Jefferson, George Wythe, Myra, Layla, Micah, Joel, and Harmer himself
standing around. The Rector of Bruton Parish Church officiated, the bride wore lavender and
lace and the groom made his vows, gave his bride her mother's ring, and managed to kiss her
before he drifted away. In the parlor, the guests were served cakes and tea, but did not stay long. Going back up
afterwards where Morgan lay in a deep sleep, Harmer slid his arm around his daughter's waist.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, sighed with a great happiness, and said, "So, it's all
right for him to stay now, Papa?" "Yes, Mrs. Kent, it is perfectly all right."
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