"I was half-asleep when I wrote it. I had consumed far too much champagne, and I was not thinking clearly, and…"
"You were very creative."
"Please stop."
"I am merely complimenting your imagination." His grin was wicked. "I had no idea you had such a thorough understanding of…"
"If you finish that sentence, I will throw something considerably harder than a cushion at your head."
"Noted." But his eyes were warm, fond. "For what it is worth, I found that letter... illuminating. And not at all unwelcome."
"I despise you."
"You adore me."
"Those two things are not mutually exclusive."
He laughed a full, delighted laugh that made her heart sing despite her embarrassment.
"Come," he said, offering her his arm. "Let us return to the party before your mother does indeed send a search party. I believe we have a betrothal to celebrate."
She took his arm. "And after the celebration?"
"After the celebration, we begin planning our future." He covered her hand with his. "A wedding to arrange. A life to build. A thousand arguments to have and a thousand more to resolve."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It sounds perfect." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "It sounds like exactly what I want."
They stepped out from behind the curtain, into the light and noise of the drawing room. Heads turned. Conversations paused. Lady Wayworth spotted them from across the room and let out a small shriek of excitement.
"There you are! We have been looking everywhere!" She descended upon them with alarming speed. "Vanessa, your hair is mussed. Were you…never mind, I do not want to know. Lord Montehood, you must come speak to Lord Haberton. He has questions about the wedding venue, and I cannot be expected to answer everything myself."
"Of course, Lady Wayworth." Martin caught Vanessa's eye, his expression long-suffering but amused. "Duty calls."
"Go," she said. "I will survive without you for a few minutes."
"I doubt that very much." But he released her hand and allowed himself to be swept away by her mother's relentless enthusiasm.
Vanessa watched him go, her heart full.
Six years. Six years of silence and longing and desperate, hopeless affection. Six years of letters never meant to be sent and feelings never meant to be spoken.
And now—this. A ring on her finger. A future spread out before her. A man who treasured her exactly as she was, who had read her most embarrassing confessions and still wanted her nonetheless.
Helena appeared at her elbow, a glass of champagne in each hand.
"You look happy," she observed, handing Vanessa one of the glasses.
"I am happy." Vanessa took a sip, watching Martin navigate her mother's interrogation with admirable grace. "Deliriously, impossibly, terrifyingly happy."
"Excellent." Helena clinked her glass against Vanessa's. "You deserve it. Both of you."
"Thank you, Helena. For everything."
"That is what friends are for." Helena's eyes sparkled. "Now, tell me…when the wedding is because I wish to discuss the bridemaid dress…”
Vanessa laughed. "All in good time my dear."
