Her head came up then, and when their eyes met, he saw disbelief.
He sat up straighter, staring into her eyes with a ferocity that he hoped she could feel even a fraction of. “I did not fall in love with you for your beauty, Amelia—though I certainly do find you beautiful. I fell in love with you for your wit. Your kindness. How you make me want to be a better person. I even went so far as to apologize in letters to the women I wronged. Those women whose families were at fault for their cornering me—not them.”
“You wrote letters?”
Was that bad? Her tone indicated it might be bad. “Yes.” He drew the word out. “Yet another thing I ought to have consulted you in, now that I think about it, being that one of your other great qualities that I do not possess is good sense.”
To his surprise, she let out a laugh. “Did any of them return your correspondence?”
He nodded. “Two. They were nice letters, absolving me of my guilt. Both are in fact happily married now. I sent the letters through their husbands, in case you were concerned.” He felt the need to make it clear that there had been no untoward intentions.
She laughed again. “Would they happen to be on your study desk? Or were they when you left?”
He thought back. “Yes. I do believe I left them there.”
She pressed her lips together. “Promise me that I will never again find letters from women on the desk of the man I love.”
He stilled. “You love me?”
Slowly, she nodded, the movement hesitant. “I think, despite my very prominent belief that I would be hurt in the end... well, Edward, I fell in love with you weeks ago.”
His face split into a smile that he could not have held back if he’d tried, but she raised a hand to silence his celebratory hurrah.
“I am not done quite yet. I owe you an official apology.”
He began to protest—she lifted her hand again, growing solemn.
“I am sorry for judging you harshly. I allowed myself to see Society’s tainted beliefs, rather than the man I saw increasing glimpses of right before me.”
“In your defense, I believe I made it rather hard for you.”
“You did, yes.”
He laughed, and a blush tinted her cheeks.
“Are you quite done now?” he asked once his mirth faded.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good.”
And grateful he had chosen to remain so close, he leaned across the small divide between them and raised his hands to cradle her face. Her resulting smile wiped his mind blank of everything but her. Slowly, he leaned in until his breath tousled the curls around her face. “I love you, Amelia,” he whispered, lightly brushing her cheekbone with his thumb. “I love every part of you.” He infused his words with meaning. Her scars made entirely no difference to him. If anything, they increased his admiration.
The affection in her eyes as they searched his was without words.
Thensheclosed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a collision of emotion and fire. He felt the kiss in every limb, every inch of his body coming alive through the connection. It was as staggering as their first, yet far more momentous. Her hands gripped the front of his coat jacket, and his slipped to the base of her neck as he dropped to his knees in front of her, wanting a nearness he could not manage.
A knock at the door startled them both, causing their kiss to break.
“Go away, Coombs!” he hollered to the door, and he could feel Amelia’s responding laughter as her forehead fell to rest on his shoulder.
“Oh, Amelia, please say you are in there!”
Amelia drew back suddenly, her brows pulling in. “That is Henrietta.”
“I am a wretched sister, and if you never wish to see me again, I understand. But—But please say you will!”
“She sounds as if she is crying.”
