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Brendan nodded solemnly. “It is. I regret to say that today has been most grievous.”

Beth inclined her head. “I am glad that her ladyship was not harmed.”

“As are we both,” he replied. “Thank you, Beth.”

The maid offered a final nod before slipping quietly into the corridor, leaving them alone at last.

Lily nodded in fervent agreement. She was thrilled to be unharmed, even though a residue of unease lingered over Wesley’s fate. Had his kindness been a ruse, or had he been a good man led astray? She supposed they would never know. The chamber was still, the scent of honey faintly rising from the linens on her bed.

Finally, Brendan closed the door behind them, his hand still warmly enclosing hers. As he led her deeper into the room, his grip was steady, reassuring in a way that made her chest ache. With a strength that felt both effortless and protective, he lifted her by the waist and set her gently atop the edge of her high featherbed, its damask coverlet cool to the touch beneath her fingers. Even as she sat upon the mattress, her muslin skirts pooling at her knees, he stood tall before her, broad-shouldered and solemn, his gaze fixed upon her as if she were a question he could not stop asking.

In the mellow afternoon light filtering through the casement windows, his eyes gleamed, flecks of amber catching in the brown, like sunlight through a cut-glass tumbler of fine brandy. They were warm, penetrating, and far too perceptive. Lily found herself breathless beneath the weight of his attention, as though he had placed her entire being under gentle scrutiny.

“I choose you.”

“I love you.”

They spoke in unison, and for a moment, time faltered, suspended by wonder.

“You love me?” Brendan asked, his voice rough with astonishment.

“You choose me?” Lily returned, her words no louder than a breath.

Again, they paused, two hearts speaking faster than their tongues.

Brendan opened his mouth just as she did, but this time, he lifted one finger to press gently against her lips. The touch, featherlight and reverent, made her pulse flutter.

“Allow me first.”

Lily nodded, her voice caught in her throat, and pressed her lips closed around her smile.

“I choose you, Lily Ridley.”

The words were spoken with such intention that they reverberated through her chest like a hymn. Her throat constricted, and her heart began to race.

“I choose your effervescent chatter.”

“Some would say I talk too much.”

“But I would say you speak just enough to bring color to the world.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, rising until her ears tingled. She dared not look away.

“I choose your courage in doing what is right, even when it threatens your own safety.”

“I could not watch you be arrested for something you were innocent of.”

“It was the act of a truly noble heart. And I am not yet finished.” His voice deepened, mellow as molasses. “I choose your beautiful face … and your glorious chocolate-brown hair.”

Lily lifted her hand to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “Chocolate brown?”

He reached out to gently retrieve the lock she had tucked away, coiling it around his finger with deliberate care. “The richest, most decadent chocolate available at Gunter’s.”

A smile curved her lips. “Oh,” she whispered, dazed by the warmth in his gaze, a warmth that seemed to gather her up and carry her to safety.

“I choose your incandescent eyes,” he said softly, brushing the silken strand down her cheek before letting it slip away.

She bit her lower lip, her pulse fluttering like a lark trapped beneath her stays.