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“Because you tempt me beyond self-control, my little dove.”

“I thought you were always in control.”

What an odd thing to say, and a great misperception too.

“I’m flattered you should think so,” Stan said. “I strive for that appearance.” He paused, then shook his head, his expression rueful and a trifle self-conscious. “No, I used to endeavor for that. No longer.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

Grinning, he kissed her nose. “That discussion cannot be completed in the time we have before your sister and Pennington return. It will have to wait until another time. I want to give you this before they do.”

He withdrew the box from his pocket and opened the purple velvet top. Inside, resting in a white satin nest, lay a pear-shaped amethyst ring surrounded by white diamonds and an outer layer of opals, all nestled in a gold setting.

“Oh,” Ophelia gasped in delight. “It’s stunning, Stanford. How did you know purple is my favorite color and opals are my favorite gemstone?”

He relaxed against the settee, draping an arm over the carved back. “I asked your sister. I wanted you to have a ring that meant something to you personally and not just a family heirloom.”

A paste one, at that. Stan would have to buy jewels for Ophelia and restock the duchy’s cache.

“Would you put it on me, please?” She held out her long, slender fingers with a neat oval fingernail on the tip of each.

After he’d obliged, Stan cradled her hand in his. For a few moments, he searched for the right words. Words that wouldn’t offend or seem trivial. Words that conveyed the importance of this moment and that would encourage her. Thank you for accepting my proposal was grossly inadequate. As was his wont, he settled on pragmatism.

“I believe we can be happy together, Ophelia.”

“I, ah, wanted to discuss something with you.” She averted her glance, and a rosy hue tinged her cheeks.

“Yes?” he gently prompted.

Typically, she was straightforward. This diffidence was uncharacteristic, and warning bells sounded in Stan’s mind.

She squared her shoulders and met his gaze directly.

There was the Ophelia he knew and esteemed.

In a rush, she blurted, “Since our union is so hasty, and we don’t really know each other, and we are being forced into the marriage, I think we should wait to consummate our vows.”