And yet… he was willing to fight for her.For them.
Was she such a coward that she would surrender before the battle had even begun?
“I’m not…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t even know how to set a table properly. I wouldn’t know how to exist in your world.” Surely, he must understand this.
His lips twitched as if he might laugh, but instead, he smoothed his hand down her arm, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles. “Which, if I’m being honest, is part of what makes you the perfect wife.” His expression was utterly sincere. “You are intelligent beyond your years, truly elegant in your honesty, and on top of all that, you are breathtakingly beautiful.” He cupped her cheek, his palm warm and grounding. “Butmore important than all of that, you are real, Daisy. Andyou make me real.”
Her breath hitched. His words were finding their way into the cracks she’d tried so hard to seal.
He placed his palm over her heart. “You’ve proven yourself stronger than most men, Daisy. You’ve cared for your brother, built a business, survived against all odds. You have done what people in my world could never do.”
She stared up at him, stunned.
“You are compassionate and kind. Daisy, by God, you possess the heart of a queen.” His voice wavered now, raw with sincerity. “But most important of all, I love you.”
The words sent a tremor through her, stealing her breath.
“I’ll fight for us too,” she whispered. But a part of her was terrified—because what if they lost? What if this all crumbled beneath them? Failure felt like the most likely outcome, and she wasn’t sure her heart could survive losing him again.
“Is that a yes?” His grin was boyish, hopeful—too confident, as if he already knew her answer.
And how could she say anything but yes?
Her lips curled, and she wound her arms around him, tugging him down so his full weight pressed the breath from her lungs in the best possible way. “If this all works out,” she murmured against his skin, “I’ll marry you.”
“It will work out.” His mouth found hers, sealing the promise. “Trust me.”
Very early the next morning,while Daisy slept soundly beside him, sleep eluded Alastair. The weight of all that needed to be done pressed heavily on his chest.
By the time a hint of rose-colored light peeked over thehorizon, he had slipped out of bed, dressed in the clothes Daisy had mended, and begun pacing the room.
He debated waking her.
If he left now, he could speak with his uncle and possibly have everything sorted before she even finished preparing breakfast.
But if he woke her, she’d… not try to stop him, but perhaps distract him, delay him.
So instead of nudging her awake, instead of seeing that soft, worried look in her eyes, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, lingering longer than he should. Then he crept downstairs, moving as quietly as possible.
What he had not anticipated was Gilbert, already awake, seated at the kitchen table with a book open in front of him, a single flickering candle casting long shadows over the room.
The moment Alastair emerged from the stairwell, Gilbert looked up, his young face a mask of stern disapproval. His jaw lifted proudly—so much like Daisy’s that Alastair almost smiled.
“You have remembered,” the boy said. Not a question. A statement. He was sharper than his years suggested.
Alastair inclined his head. “I have.” He kept his voice low.
Gilbert’s eyes narrowed. “And so, you’re sneaking out before daylight—sneaking out of my sister’s bed.” He sat up straighter, shoulders squared. “I’m going to have to challenge you.”
Alastair blinked, first in surprise, then in fierce pride. The sheer audacity of the boy stunned him—but only for a moment. Of course, Daisy’s brother would stand up for her honor. Young though he was, he carried himself like a man already, a testament to how she had raised him.
Alastair exhaled.“I’m not sneaking out,” he assured him. “And I’m certainly not abandoning her. Or you.”
“She knows you’re leaving, then?”
Alastair hesitated for only a moment before answering. “We discussed it.”
The boy’s eyes darkened, and Alastair sighed.
