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Now that she had found him, she was not sure what to say.

“You had better not bother with him,” she finally said. “He is quite taciturn, I’ve been told.”

Lord Dalmeer let out a short breathy laugh, but his gaze moved to the papers in her hand.

“You might have told me to read them.”

His arm dropped from the plinth. “You had the headache.”

Nell smiled ruefully, and her chest fluttered as she remembered the words he had written on the paper. For her.

She was afraid to believe them. “You do not wish to marry.”

“You did not wish to marry. You rejected my offer.”

“An offer made out of duty.”

He gave a caustic laugh. “Devil take duty, Nell! I offered”—he took a step toward her—“because I have not stopped thinking of you since the moment I met you in this wretchedly drafty corridor.”

Her breath came with less ease with every word he said and every step he took. “Then it is not because of Mr. Tomlinson’s lecture that you feel you must…”

“Mr. Tomlinson’s lecture did nothing but put thoughts about you into my mind that would make him faint.”

Nell’s face flushed, and she broke her gaze away, trying to stop a smile. “My lord...”

He tipped her chin up with a finger until her eyes met his. “Archie. For heaven’s sake, call me Archie, Nell. I do not wish to be my lord or Lord Dalmeer. I wish to be something far dearer.” His hand slid across her cheek, his pinkie grazing her neck and sending a cascade of chills across her body.

“I am not a proper wife for you. Archie.”

His eyes searched hers. “You are the only wife I will have.”

There was only so much resistance within her, and it crumbled as she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

It was all the answer he seemed to need. His hands held her mouth to his, only to move into her hair, then slide down her back, then grasp her waist, as though he could not decide how best to hold her. The kiss was urgency and relief and vow, and the severe stares of Mercury and the other Greeks and Romans had no power to stop or slow it.

When their lips broke apart, he held her face in his hands, a breath away, which was almost too far. “I love you, Nell. Without reservation. Precisely as you are. And I shan’t rest until you see yourself the way I do.”

She shut her eyes and rested her forehead against his. “I love you, Archie.”

He took in a breath, and his thumbs caressed her cheeks.

“I always shall.”

His lips found hers again, and he kissed her. Achingly. Slowly. Until she forgot how to stand without his arms to hold her up.

She had given him every opportunity to choose something else. Someone else.

He had chosen her despite it. Chosen her twice.

Their lips parted again. “Dance with me,” he whispered.

She pulled back to look at him.

“I want to dance with you, Nell. Will you dance with me?”

She could only laugh, for at the beginning of the evening, a dance with him had been more than she could have dared hope for. “I would like nothing more.”

His smile grew as he stepped back and offered her his arm.