Eliza took a deep breath and raised her hand, but the door swung inward before she could grasp the knocker. Denton bowed so low his head pointed downward.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.” The corners of his mouth struggled valiantly against a smile.
“Thank you, Denton.”
For a moment, Eliza could not move. She remembered the day she arrived as a bride. Then, she had felt like an impostor. Now, she felt only the familiar panic of uncertainty and the eagerness to behold her husband.
As she stepped into the front hall, footfalls thundered in the distance, as if someone was dashing through the halls. Then August appeared, skidding to a halt on the marble and nearly slipping.
He was panting and looking as though he was seeing her for the first time. In that single instant, Eliza witnessed the collapse of a thousand careful defenses. Relief, joy, hope, even fear… August looked like he could not quite believe his luck.
“You’re here,” he said, his voice thick.
Eliza’s own composure cracked under the impact of the words. She wanted to run to him, to demand an explanation for all the flowers. Instead, she stood there, unable to move, watching the man she loved struggle with how to approach her.
The gap between them was a chasm and yet so small. Eliza took a step forward. August matched it. And when they were an arm’s length apart, neither seemed to know what to do next.
She broke the silence. “The manor looks well.”
“It misses you. I miss you. If I am allowed to say so.”
Eliza’s heart beat so loudly, she was certain everyone could hear it. “I have never known you to wait for permission.”
“No, but I have never before been so terrified of doing something wrong, Eliza.”
She smiled, and his sincerity made her throat tighten. “You have written a great many letters.”
“Not enough. Never enough, I think, but—” He glanced away, his hands restless at his sides. “I did not wish to presume.”
“August, you never have to presume.” She touched his cheek softly.
His eyes snapped back to hers. “Tell me why you came back.”
“Because I missed you.”
He looked stunned. Eliza realized, with a curious pang, that he truly had not believed she would return. “Is it always to be like this?” she asked, stepping even closer. “You doing something dramatic and foolish and me pretending it does not affect me at all?”
August grinned, the brightest she had ever seen. “I suppose I can try for less foolishness, but I make no promises.”
She tilted her chin. “That is very nearly romantic.”
“Would you like romantic?” He looked around, as if searching for inspiration, then reached into a nearby vase. He extracted a single white lily, shook it free of droplets, and offered it to her.
“For you,” he said, “to mark the occasion. I read somewhere that white lilies signify devotion.”
Eliza took the flower. Her hands shook, just a little. “You are ridiculous.”
“And you,” he replied, “are the most extraordinary person I have ever known. I do not want a duchess to manage my household. I want you to accompany me through this life as my beloved. As my partner in all things.”
She did not speak. She was afraid if she tried, she would say something mortifying, like how she’d missed the sound of his voice reading books he claimed not to care about or how she’d slept better knowing he was somewhere in the house.
He held her gaze. “I love you,” he said, as if it was a truth too large to contain. “Not because you are convenient or practical or because you make me a better duke. I love you because you make me want to be more than just a title. You make me wish to be worthy.”
It was a good speech. Not perfect but as close as a man like him would ever come. She stepped forward, closing the remaining gap, and pressed the lily to his chest.
“I love you,” she said. “Not because you are the Duke of Wildmoore. Not because you buy out flower shops or write impassioned notes to livestock. I love the man who plays music at midnight and looks at orphans as though they are the most important people in the world.”
August pulled her into his arms with such force that she was left breathless then he further stole her breath by kissing her, sweetly and deeply. She held onto his coat lapel to keep her balance.