The gentleman’s brows rose at that. “Truly?”
Nora wrinkled her nose. “No. He is imposing and demanding. But he adores his daughter, and she happens to adore a certain Mr. Lyndon.”
Halting in place, he slipped a hand into his coat pocket whilst glancing this way and that, though no one was nearby.
“I know I ought to wait, but I cannot,” he whispered as he withdrew a small leather case, worn smooth at the edges, its modest appearance doing little to disguise the care with which ithad been chosen. It rested in his palm for the briefest moment before he opened it, revealing the gleaming ring nestled within.
A large sapphire sat at its heart, rich as twilight, its color shifting like cold fire as it turned, and around it sat a halo of diamonds, each one catching the light in its own sharp glint, making the whole piece shimmer uncontrollably. Nora had always thought silver a better setting for such a deep blue, but the gold was eye-catching.
It was not merely an ornament. It was his declaration made manifest. And the world narrowed once more, though in a quieter fashion than before, as her attention fixed wholly upon that small, shining promise.
Nora’s hand hovered between them as Mr. Lyndon slid her glove off with a care that sent a faint tremor through her. Cool air brushed her bare skin for only a moment before it was replaced by the steady warmth of his fingers as he settled the ring into place.
And for a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
But then a slow, almost hesitant smile spread across his face, bright and unguarded in a way she had never seen before. Lifting her hand, Mr. Lyndon pressed his lips to that knuckle, the warmth of his touch sending a fresh thrill through her.
“It suits you,” he murmured.
Nora’s gaze fixed upon the ring, but as her hand shifted, the logistics of the ornament made her hesitate: her glove was too snug to fit over it, and this moment would not remain private for long if she waltzed about with it on her finger.
“I shall keep it hidden,” she said, her voice low as she tucked it back into its case and then her reticule. Nora’s eyes lifted to meet his once more, bright with a promise of their own. “For now.”
“And not for long. I have an appointment to speak with your father tomorrow.”
A faint chill slipped through her, quick and unwelcome, tightening something low in her chest before she could name it, and Nora’s grip tightened against her reticule; for the briefest instant, the ground beneath her felt less certain. But the feel of the ring box steadied her, and Nora drew herself up, her chin lifting as she set that past firmly behind her.
Mr. Lyndon wasn’thim. This was different. He was different. Her gaze returned to her dear Mr. Lyndon, and the last trace of hesitation gave way beneath the quiet strength of what she knew to be true.
“When will you come? I do not wish to miss—” But the words faltered as recollection pressed in, and Nora’s shoulders drooped. “Mama has a string of visits tomorrow, and I fear I shall be dragged from one drawing room to another until the afternoon is quite spent.”
Nora’s grip tightened once more against the small shape hidden within her reticule. “Perhaps I might contrive to return early, or plead a headache—”
“There is no need,” said Mr. Lyndon, his tone easy, as though the matter were already settled. “I shall call upon your father tomorrow and wait for you until you return.”
The tension eased from her at once, her expression brightening with a relief she made no effort to conceal. “You will?”
“I carried that ring for less than a day before rushing over to give it to you. Do you believe I can wait another to place it on your finger forevermore?” he asked with a wry smile.
A soft sound escaped her, something between a laugh and a breath, and Nora caught at his sleeve and tugged him off the path, drawing him behind the shelter of another broad-trunked oak, its low branches casting a dappled shade that concealed them from casual notice. There, with the world once more held at a careful distance, she wrapped her arms around him.
“You shall not have to wait long, and I shall carry it with me until then,” Nora murmured, her voice low and bright with feeling as her hand rose to his lapel. “I love you, my dearest Mr. Lyndon.”
His answering smile deepened, his hand finding her cheek once more with a familiarity that still sent a quick thrill through her. “And I you, my beloved Miss Eden.”
The space between them closed once more, and Nora met him halfway as his lips found hers. Though light and quick, the kiss brightened with the same breathless eagerness. Another followed, just as swift, as though neither could bear to limit themselves to one as they lingered in that stolen pocket of shade, the world beyond held at bay for a moment longer.
Chapter 2
The carriage jolted, and Nora tapped once against the edge of her reticule before she stilled, pressing her hands flat against her lap as though she might quiet the impatience that threatened to show. The small shape hidden within weighed twice what it had the day before, its presence impossible to ignore, a constant reminder of what awaited her return.
The afternoon had stretched on far beyond reason, each call bleeding into the next until time itself seemed determined to crawl. Polite conversation, measured smiles, the endless exchange of trivialities, Nora had endured it all with as much composure as she could muster, but her patience was reaching its limits.
Mama’s conversation meandered along, recounting some detail of their last visit, but the words passed over Nora without purchase; her gaze remained fixed upon the window, watching the familiar streets pass by at an agonizing pace. Every turn of the wheel felt too slow, every pause intolerable. Nora cursed the staid pace and yearned to leap out the door; surely she could arrive home faster on foot.
Berkeley Square rose in stately order; the broad green at the center was framed by tall, elegant houses whose pristine façades spoke of money and power. Iron railings ran in orderly linesalong the pavement, broken only by the occasional gate, and carriages passed at a measured pace, their wheels far quieter upon the well-kept cobblestones.
The carriage had scarcely come to a full stop before Nora was in motion. The door opened with a haste that defied decorum, her foot already finding the step before the groom could offer his hand. She did not wait. Did not pause. Gathering her skirts, she hurried up the front steps.