“Rhys, I’m in love with your sister,” he barked, and the other man drew back. “I fought my feelings for her because of you, because of what I did in the past. But she makes me happy, and that is only second to the fact that I make her happy. Or I believe I do.”

Rhys’ eyes narrowed.

“Or I did. When we saw one another.” Only, that wasn’t entirely true. “I know I made her happy, because I know the way her eyes sparkle and dance and the way her cheeks dimple, and I want her… I want to spend the rest of my tomorrows making her laugh and smile, even if you object. Even if you find me unworthy or undeserving or—”

“I don’t.”

“Un—” He stopped in midsentence and cocked his head at having his monologue cut into by those two unexpected words. “Beg pardon?”

“I don’t believe you are unworthy or undeserving or whatever the un-starting words you were going to rattle off.” Rhys headed down the steps and met him in the middle. “I did, Anthony,” he murmured solemnly. “For a long time. But I know Lettie, and I know you. So get in there.”

Anthony had believed himself undeserving…for so long.

Someone called out.

“Well, are you going to get on with it already?”

He and Rhys glanced up.

A pair of young ladies with mischievous eyes and big smiles stared back. “My nieces,” Rhys explained, with a grin.

The younger of the pair leaned further out. “You really should hurry.”

Yes, he really should.

Anthony raced past the other man.

“Anthony?”

He looked back, almost afraid Rhys had decided he’d had a change of heart. Anthony would regret it, but it wouldn’t change what he intended to do, if Lettie would have him.

“I am sorry for what my mother did,” he said quietly. “So very sorry that she manipulated you so cruelly and that I did not hear you out. She was to blame.”

“She and I both were.”

“You were young, and you thought you were helping me.”

For so long, he’d believed himself undeserving of forgiveness. Lettie had opened his eyes to the truth of the same words her brother now spoke. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

Rhys inclined his head, and then a slow, droll smile formed on his lips. “For what it’s worth, my question before about the flowers wasn’t because you’re here to see Lettie, but because… What the hell are those, even?”

Anthony glanced down and blinked slowly as he truly noted them for the first time since he’d grabbed them from the vase.

He frowned.

He couldn’t go in there like this. Not with these.

“She won’t care,” Rhys assured him.

His gut clenched. Perhaps he should return later…