"What?"
"The important part."
Caroline's heart pounded. "I love you."
His eyes closed only for a second. When they opened, there was nothing guarded left in them. Caroline had never seen him like that: no duke, no reputation, no control. Only Nicholas.
"You love me."
"I am beginning to regret telling you."
He pulled her closer—not abruptly, enough to ask without words. Caroline stepped the rest of the distance herself. His hand came to her cheek.
"Caroline."
"Yes?"
"If I kiss you, I am unlikely to be sensible afterward."
She smiled. "That sounds promising."
Nicholas laughed, then kissed her. It was not gentle because he had waited too long; it was gentle because she mattered too much. Caroline felt every foolish imagined future she had once built fade into insignificance—not erased, replaced by something real.
When Nicholas finally drew back, his forehead rested against hers. "I had planned a speech."
"Oh, no."
"It was very good."
"I doubt that."
"I spent three years developing it."
"Then perhaps you may use it later."
His mouth curved. "Later?"
Caroline looked at him. "Surely you do not think one kiss has made you successful?"
Nicholas stared, then began laughing. Caroline smiled. There he was: the man she had somehow failed to see while looking directly past him for years, and now she could not imagine not seeing him.
Nicholas did not propose that day; that surprised everyone except Nicholas.
His mother found him in the library that evening. "Well?"
He looked up. "She loves me."
Margaret dropped the book in her hand. "She said so?"
"Yes."
"And—and what? Where is the ring?"
"In the safe."
His mother stared. "You have lost your mind?"
"Possibly."
"You have waited years."
"Yes."
"She loves you."
"Yes."
"And you have not asked?"
"No."
Margaret sat opposite him. "Explain."
Nicholas looked down at the papers before him. "I want tomorrow."
His mother blinked. "What?"
"I have spent years wanting the answer to one question."
"Whether she would marry you?"
"Yes."
"And now?"
Nicholas smiled. "Now I want one day in which I simply know she loves me." Margaret's face softened. He continued: "I don't want to turn every happy moment into negotiation."
"That is unexpectedly romantic."
"Do not tell anyone."
"I shall tell everyone."
Nicholas sighed.
Christmas Eve arrived without snow. Caroline was grateful; she had never understood why people insisted happiness looked better under frozen precipitation.
Everly Park was warm. Her parents were cheerful. Cecilia and Samuel had written; the letter no longer hurt. Caroline read it at breakfast and smiled: Samuel was her friend, Cecilia was her friend. That chapter had not ended badly; it had simply ended differently than she once imagined.
Nicholas arrived just after noon. He brought no grand entourage—only himself. Caroline met him in the entrance hall.
"You are late by four minutes."
"I noticed."
"That is encouraging."
She smiled. He kissed her hand.
Sir William appeared from the drawing room. "None of that in the hall."
"William," Frances called from behind him.
"What?"
"Leave them alone."
"They have been alone for weeks."
Nicholas looked at Caroline. "I like your parents."
"They like you too much."
Sir William called back: "I heard that!"
"Good." Nicholas laughed.
Later, after dinner, Caroline found him on the terrace: the same sort of cold air, the same kind of night. But everything inside her had changed. She stepped beside him.
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking."
"Dangerous."
"I know."
Caroline looked toward the dark gardens. "About what?"
Nicholas reached into his coat; her breath caught. He looked at her. "No deadline."
Caroline's throat tightened. "No Christmas plan?"
"No."
"No ducal decree?"
"Never again."
He opened his hand. A ring: simple, elegant, a sapphire.
Caroline stared. Nicholas smiled. "I know."
She laughed through tears. "You chose blue."
"You once told Hartley blue."
Caroline looked at him sharply.
Nicholas immediately added: "Before you murder me, I chose it because you still prefer blue."
She stared, then laughed. "That was nearly disastrous."
"I am aware." He took her hand.
This time, when Nicholas lowered himself before her, Caroline did not think of another man. Not once.
"Caroline Everly." Her heart pounded. "I had intended to ask you this by Christmas."