Reflexively, she took the flowers. “They are…perfect,” she said softly, and she meant it, because they were from him, because he’d brought them.

But why had he brought them?

Why had he stormed into her family’s home, unless…?

He held her gaze. “I told myself you were better off without me. And I told myself I was better off without you. And I wanted that to be true, because it would be less complicated. Or that was what I told myself. I don’t want you to marry Exmoor,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Though I’m sure he’s a fine enough fellow.”

“Thank…you?” Lord Exmoor said at her shoulder.

“But he’s not worthy of you, and I know I’m not either, because no one is, Lettie,” he said, his words an entreaty. “All I know is that the idea of you spending your days with him, or any other man who is not me, will leave me bereft. Because I want the honor of being your partner in life.”

Lettie gasped, catching that sound with her fingertips.

“I know I want to be the one spending my every day trying to make you smile,” he said.

Gasps from her mother and Caroline filled the room.

“You do make me smile,” she whispered.

“And laugh, and I want to take a train ride with you and talk about the mechanics of trains, because I could listen to you all day, Lettie. You could read a damned children’s primer, Lettie, and I’d hang on your every word.”

A half laugh, half sob escaped her.

Anthony took a step closer and then reached out a hand, palming her cheek, caressing it, and she leaned into his touch, so tender and loving—and then gone as he dropped to a knee beside her.

“All I know with a certainty as sure as the sun rising and the tides rolling in and out is that I love you, Lettie,” he said.

The joy and the depth of the love she carried for this man brought her eyes sliding briefly shut.

“Marry me,” he begged. “Please?”

Lettie nodded. “Yes!” She sobbed and then launched herself into his arms, and he caught her to him, immediately folding her in his embrace.

He pressed a kiss, hard, against her temple. “I’m an enormous arse,” he rasped.

“Only sometimes.”

His laughter mixed with hers, and she felt that deep, splendorous rumble as it moved their chests in the harmony she always found and felt with this man.

He drew back a fraction and traced the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. “I love you,” he repeated quietly, his words hushed and for her alone, despite the audience that watched them.

“And I love you.”

With a smile, Lettie turned her mouth up to meet his kiss.

The End