“Would you be?” The sparkle only grew. “I have never had a woman jealous over me. This is an intriguing idea.”

She gave in to a laugh, and they started down the stairs. “Well, I don’t know how fond you are of borscht or blini. What if I lose your heart to these girls whose mothers can cook Russian foods?”

He grinned. “If I feel this is a danger, you have my word that I will deliver a few recipes to your cook. In the meantime, I would complain to my landlord about the matushkas always camped outside my door—if it weren’t his fault they were there to begin with. The Hamiltons seem to think it great fun that my community has just discovered me. They provide them all with tea and biscuits and sit about with them exchanging stories. Mrs. Hamilton has unearthed every book in her shop that even mentions Russia, and Mr. Hamilton has been reminiscing with them all about his time in that part of the world during the Crimean War.” He shook his head. “Poor Clarke had to run for cover yesterday evening when he walked home with me. The matushkas mistook him for another of us at first and all but had him engaged to Svetlana before he could open his mouth to prove himself an Englishman.”

Lily nearly choked on another laugh. “Ivy would declare war on this Svetlana.”

Zivon chuckled too. “I daresay Clarke would be fighting right by her side.”

And what would all these matushkas think of her, she wondered? What would his mother have thought of her, if she were still alive? She had a feeling none of them would be terribly pleased that he was courting an English girl. And she knew so little of their culture. She didn’t even know what blini was. Borscht had beets, didn’t it? They had those in their vegetable garden. Perhaps she should talk to Cook about getting her hands on some recipes.

“Lily?”

“Hmm?” Clearly she’d missed something. They’d somehow arrived at her darkroom already, and he was looking down at her with a combination of amusement and concern.

He turned to face her. Cupped her cheek in a warm palm. And leaned down to brush his lips against hers. “Thank you.”

All those questions melted away. “For what?”

“For finding me worthy of such loyalty. It was always Evgeni who made the girls frown like that over thought of others. I never imagined myself capable of inspiring someone to such feeling.”

She could relate. It had always been Ivy to inspire the lads too. “You’re more than worthy. You’re the most remarkable man I’ve ever known.”

He glanced at her door, and she could easily follow his thoughts this time. He was also a man with enemies. A man not quite trusted by their government. A man who wasn’t certain what his future held.