His breath shuddered out. “I wanted to kill him. When he spoke about teaching you, moulding you—God, Amelia, I wanted to break him in half.”
“I know.” She did. Had seen it blazing in his eyes even as he’d maintained iron control. “But you didn’t. You protected me without losing yourself.”
“He’s exactly what Daniel warned me about.” Tobias’s jaw clenched. “The rumours about his late wife’s death—the questions that were never properly answered?—”
“I know.” Horror curled through her belly. “I heard it in his voice. The way he spoke of her. Of teaching her, breaking her into submission.” She shuddered. “That could have been me.”
“Never.” The word emerged fierce. Absolute. “I would have stopped it. Would have found a way to intervene before—” He broke off, pulling her closer. “You’ll never belong to anyone but yourself. No matter what happens between us, that remains true. Always.”
Something in her chest cracked open at that. At the sheer conviction in his voice.
“Tobias.” His name emerged broken. Reverent.
“Marry me.”
The words weren’t a question. They were a plea. Raw and desperate and utterly vulnerable.
“Marry me, Amelia. Not because society demands it or scandal forces your hand. Not for Henry’s sake or for propriety or for any reason except this: I love you. I love your strength and your gentleness and the way you see past every mask I’ve ever worn. I love watching you with Henry. I love how you challenge me, frustrate me, make me want to be better than I ever thought possible.”
Her breath caught. Tears burned behind her eyes.
“I love you beyond reason or logic or any attempt at good sense,” he continued, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them. “And I’m done pretending otherwise. Done sacrificing what we could have on the altar of propriety. So marry me. Please. Let me spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of the gift you’d be giving me.”
For a heartbeat, she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Could only stare at him through blurring tears and feel her heart swell until she thought it might burst.
“Yes.”
The word emerged barely above a whisper, but she watched it land. Watched his eyes widen with disbelief that shifted rapidly into blazing joy.
“Yes,” she repeated, stronger now. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes to everything.”
He kissed her then. No hesitation, no restraint. Just pure, desperate relief and joy and love so fierce it stole what little breath she had left.
This kiss was different from all the others. No guilt shadowed it. No uncertainty. This was a celebration and a promise and the beginning of everything they’d been too afraid to reach for.
The carriage jolted into motion. Neither of them noticed.
His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, her throat, that sensitive spot below her ear that made her gasp. “Mine,” he murmured against her skin. “Say it.”
“Yours.” The word emerged breathless. Wrecked. “I’m yours, Tobias. And you’re mine.”
“Always,” he breathed. “From the moment you walked into that dining room and I defended you against Edward. From the first time I held Henry and saw our future in his eyes. Always.”
She kissed him again, pouring everything she felt into the press of her lips against his. All the love she’d been too frightened to name. All the longing she’d tried so desperately to deny.
When they finally broke apart—driven by the basic human need for air—they were both trembling.
“We just scandalised half of London,” she whispered.
“I know.” His smile was wicked and tender in equal measure. “Worth it.”
She laughed then. Couldn’t help it. The sound bubbled up from her chest like champagne—bright and effervescent and utterly joyous.
“We’re going to be the talk of society for years.”
“Undoubtedly.” He pressed kisses along her jaw, her temple, anywhere he could reach. “I’m counting on it.”
Outside, London rushed past in a blur of lamplight and shadow. Inside the carriage, wrapped in each other’s arms with the future spreading before them like an unwritten page, they thought only of this moment.
