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As if at any moment, she would awake to discover that all the wondrous developments of the last few weeks had been nothing more than her imagination. If it were a dream, she didn’t want to wake. Far better to remain sleeping so that she could enjoy this unparalleled contentedness just a bit longer.

There was also the fear—never far—that her joy would come crashing down, like a precariously hung painting on the wall. Because she and Apollo had yet to make their engagement public. Only the children and Aphrodite knew. When the banns were read, that would change. Word of the betrothal between the Marchioness of Corbett and the Duke of Prestwick would travel over London like the flames during the Great Fire.

And then, she would have to face Lord Timothy.

Her stomach clenched at the reminder, but she wasn’t going to allow her brother-in-law to intrude upon the precious time she could spend with her husband-to-be, her dearest friend, and her children.

Apollo’s gaze found hers, his smile turning tender. “My lady, you are looking especially lovely this afternoon.”

He always told her that, but she never grew tired of hearing it.

“And you, sir, are looking particularly handsome,” she returned with a flirtatious air.

Aphrodite shook her head. “The two of you are quite maudlin.”

Henry caught hold of Aphrodite’s hem and began tugging.

“Henry, no,” Ophelia chided sternly.

“What’s maw-din, Auntie Goose?” Catherine demanded.

“It means they are being overly sentimental, dearest,” Aphrodite explained gently, extracting her gown from the pup’s jaws with a swift tug.

Henry rolled onto his back and played dead, making Bitsy trot over to investigate and lick his ears.

“Scent-a-metal?”

Ophelia bit her lip, exchanging a look with Apollo.

“Perhaps the two of you might visit with Auntie Goose for a few moments,” Apollo suggested, “whilst I take your mama for a turn in the gardens.”

The garden at the town house was frightfully small. Two turns, in fact, were likely all they could manage in its tight confines. But it mattered not. She would leap at any chance to be alone with him, however tiny the space in which it happened.

“What a wonderful idea,” Aphrodite said brightly. “Come, children. It looks as if everything has been prepared for us to take tea. You too, scamps,” she aimed at Bitsy and Henry.

The dogs followed eagerly, not wanting to be left out. The children gathered around the table that had been laid out at Ophelia’s request for the occasion. A tea tray awaited them, and Aphrodite looked as if she had everything firmly in hand.

“We shall be back soon,” Ophelia promised her children, before accepting Apollo’s proffered arm. “Thank you, Aphrodite.”

“You know I’m more than happy to spend time with my nephew and niece,” her friend returned, smiling easily as she waved a dismissive hand in Ophelia and Apollo’s direction. “And your furred demons as well. Now, do go for your little walk before it starts to rain. The skies were looking rather ominous on our way here.”

“The skies are always looking ominous,” Apollo pointed out wryly. “But the lady has a point.” He turned to Ophelia and lowered his voice. “Come, my love.”

She left the children happily chattering and pouring tea with Aphrodite, stopping to retrieve a wrap on her way into the garden with Apollo. When they ventured into the small, outdoor space, she cast a glance overhead, thinking Aphrodite had been right. The clouds looked prepared to unleash a torrent at any moment.

“I do think your sister was correct,” she mused. “It looks as if we are in for a deluge.”

He startled her by whirling her about so that her back was against the wall, pinning her in place with his body. “Do you remember what happens when we get caught in the rain together?”

With a pleased sigh, she settled her hands on his broad shoulders. “I have a hazy recollection, but perhaps you could remind me.”

He grinned, the dimples she couldn’t resist bracketing his sensual mouth. “It would be my greatest pleasure to remind you, but as we are trying our best to be proper, perhaps it will have to wait until we are husband and wife.”

She sighed again, allowing her fingertips to roam over his chest, absorbing his heat and the potent strength leashed within his fine coat. “I miss you.”

His grin deepened as his head dipped toward hers until their noses brushed. “I’ve missed you more. How long do you think we have before the children grow restless and come looking for us?”

She rubbed her nose against his, yearning so desperate bubbling up inside her that she feared she might burst. This was love. It was painful, it was terrifying, and it was wondrous. It made one run through the rain hand in hand and make decisions that could have frightening consequences. It was small glances, speaking without words, breathing in each other’s breaths. It was thinking how fortunate I am to be here, with this person, in this moment. How glorious it is to be alive.