If he didn’t know better, he’d think someone had slipped something intoxicating into the lemonade. But no, this heady feeling had begun well before dinner. When Lily had come down the staircase, smiling at him and looking like a princess. When he’d escorted her into the church and helped her find the perfect position from which to take photos of the ceremony. When he’d stood in the back after the guests had gone and watched her pose the bride and groom and wedding party.

For tonight, at least, she was his. And he found he liked the feeling.

“Thank you.” She handed him the camera again, that smile she’d reserved for him on her lips.

He took it and slid it into his pocket—the fifth time he’d done so in the hour since he offered to hold it for her. A not altogether selfless offer, as he’d been sure to tell her. The less time spent rushing to pick it up or put it down, the more time spent on the dance floor with her in his arms or her hand in his. She probably had no idea how pretty her blush was when he said such things.

He smiled and patted the camera. “Safe until next time.”

The orchestra closed out the current set, the moment of silence from them allowing other sounds to swell. Chatter, mostly in English, but some French reaching his ears too, no doubt thanks to the bride’s Belgian connections. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Had a storm moved in? The skies had been clear earlier. He strained to hear how long it might rumble, but the musicians launched into their next song.

“I beg your pardon.”

At the familiar voice, Zivon and Lily both turned to where Admiral Hall had joined them. Smiling, he gave a short bow and held out a hand to Lily. “I believe I claimed this next dance, Miss Blackwell, and photography duties shan’t get you out of it.”

Lily laughed and tucked her hand into the admiral’s. “I wouldn’t dare try to escape it.” But she sent a warm glance over her shoulder to Zivon. A promise, that look.

Zivon couldn’t have kept the smile from his lips had he tried. “You will find her the finest partner on the floor, Admiral.”

“After Mrs. Hall, perhaps.” He grinned and led her away.

Zivon watched them for a moment, though his attention shifted when Major Camden cut through the crowd and landed at his side. “Admiral steal your girl?”

Zivon chuckled. “Momentarily, anyway. Where has yours gone?”

“Talking to the duchess.” Camden pointed to a corner of the room, where the tall young lady Zivon had already been introduced to as a friend of Lily’s from the hospital stood talking to a blond woman with bobbed hair.