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She had spent so long guarding the peace of her house that she had begun to think peace required solitude. Yet the room felt no less hers with his book upon the table and his coat brushing the sleeve of her gown. There was merely someone in it she was glad to have near. “I was afraid I should find this difficult,” she said.

“Sorting books?” Alexander asked, glancing at the crowded table.

“Having you here again,” Charlotte replied. She smoothed a wrinkle in her skirt, suddenly uncertain how to explain. Why was this so difficult?

He turned fully toward her, his amusement fading. “Because of our walk?”

“In part.” She met his eyes. “I thought I might discover another reason to be cross with you.”

“And did you?” he asked quietly.

“No.” Her mouth curved as she remembered their argument over the travel account. “You gave me several, but none of them proved serious.” None of them were anything she would ever have cared enough about to take any true offense to. It had been nice.

“That is encouraging,” he said, smiling again.

Charlotte touched his sleeve, reluctant to leave the rest unsaid. “I do not want to spend our time together looking for reasons to doubt you.”

“Charlotte…” He lifted his hand toward hers.

“Let me finish,” she said gently, keeping her fingers upon his arm. “I seem to require that rather often with you.” His lips twitched, and her nervousness eased. She was glad he could hear the affection in her teasing. He inclined his head, and she was grateful for the faint amusement that remained between them. “I was right to tell you how I felt. But I feared one mistake meant nothing between us had changed.”

He considered that. “I gave you reason to fear I had not changed.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It was.”

“I would rather hear that I have upset you than have you say nothing to spare me,” Alexander said quietly.

“I know.” She looked at his face, at the patience there. The affection he no longer seemed to hide. “I am beginning to believe I may tell you things without losing you.”

His hand covered hers upon his sleeve. “You may.”

There were assurances she could have questioned. She knew how easily people promised more than they understood. But she had corrected him, and he had listened. She had invited him, and he had come. All afternoon, he had let her choose where the books belonged, laughed when she disagreed, and asked what she wanted to go on a map. She let those things matter. Charlotte lifted her free hand to his cheek. “I am glad you came today.”

“So am I.”

She kissed him before he could say anything more. Alexander drew her nearer, his hand settling against her back. His warmth was familiar now, though the pleasure of being held still caught her by surprise. She rested against him, letting the kiss become slow and unhurried. When she drew back, his eyes remained upon hers.

“Your dinner may suffer,” he murmured.

She smiled. “Then we must be considerate of my cook.”

“A formidable reason to behave,” he teased.

“For a little while.” Charlotte winked. “Later we can revisit ideas for wicked behavior.”

“I like the sound of that.” His smile deepened. “Please let me know when you are ready for that discussion.”

Charlotte kept her hand against his cheek. She wanted to ask him to stay after dinner, to return tomorrow, to be there when she finally unfolded her map for a journey rather than a memory. She need not ask for everything tonight. But she may ask him to stay after dinner. She wanted him. Charlotte suspected she always would.

“I think I like it when you are wicked,” she told him.

He groaned. “I shall attempt to control myself.”

She laughed, and he kissed the corner of her mouth. With him so close, she finally named what she had been feeling all afternoon. She loved him. The thought frightened her. It also made her want to smile.

Charlotte took his hand. “Come,” she said. “Let’s share a meal.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Later, I would very much enjoy the sight of you losing control.” She also would revel in coming undone herself, in the best possible way. As for her newfound realization… That could wait. It was not time to speak of love or a future.

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