“I do.” He kissed her once more, brief but thorough. “And I will spend every day proving to you that you made the right choice.”
He slipped through the connecting door, leaving Sophia standing in the morning light, her heart so full she thought it might burst.
The journey back to London felt different.
Oliver chattered as before, recounting his adventures with Grandfather, his plans for the hedgehogs, and his certainty that Thunder would be very jealous to hear about Biscuit the horse. But something had shifted in the carriage. The air felt charged. Electric.
Edward sat across from her, his eyes finding hers with a frequency that made her pulse race. Once, when Oliver dozed against her side, Edward reached across the space between them and took her hand. He held it for the rest of the journey, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across her knuckles.
When they arrived at Heatherwell House, Oliver bounded up the stairs to tell Mrs. Palmer about the fish. Sophia stood in the entrance hall, suddenly uncertain what came next.
Edward dismissed the servants with a few quiet words. Then he turned to her.
“Dinner at eight?” His voice was low, meant only for her.
“Dinner at eight.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes held hers, dark with promise.
“And after?”
Her breath caught. “After.”
He smiled. A real smile, unguarded and warm, that transformed his face into something breathtaking.
“Until tonight, Sophia.”
He released her hand and walked toward his study, his footsteps echoing through the hall. Sophia watched him go, her heart racing, her body humming with anticipation.
Tonight.
She pressed her hand to her chest and tried to remember how to breathe.
CHAPTER 32
“You are staring.”
Sophia glanced up from her plate, candlelight catching the green of her eyes. A smile played at the corner of her lips.
Edward did not deny it. He had been staring and could not stop staring since they sat down to dinner. Not since she appeared in the doorway wearing a deep burgundy gown that made her skin glow and her hair gleam like copper in the firelight.
“You look beautiful.” The words came out low, unguarded. He didn’t take them back.
Color rose in her cheeks. “You have seen me in this gown before.”
“I have seen you in many gowns.” He set down his fork. “You are beautiful in all of them.”
The blush deepened. She looked away, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass. The dining room felt too large, the table stretching between them like a continent. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to finish what they had started in her father’s house.
Dinner had never lasted so long.
The servants moved through the courses with agonizing precision. Soup. Fish. Meat. Each plate removed and replaced while Edward counted the minutes, while anticipation coiled tighter in his chest. Sophia ate little. He ate less. They spoke of Oliver, of the journey home, of inconsequential things that neither of them truly cared about.
Beneath the words, something else hummed between them. A current. A promise.
At last, the final course was cleared. Edward rose from his chair.
“Shall we?” He extended his hand across the table.
