Oh.

That was hot.

Everyone murmured an agreement.

“Yes, let’s take a few. Mother, why don’t you retire to your bedroom? It’s been a long day,” Alex said, guiding Aunt Elizabeth away. “Arthur, if you have a moment to take Ma to her room, I’m sure she’d appreciate some tea. Thank you.”

That was the end of that.

“Adelaide, if you’re staying, I would like to discuss something with you.” Alex looked to her.

She glanced at me. “Of course. I can arrange a taxi home later.”

I waved a hand. “You can stay here. Extra rooms have been made up. I’ll let Eva know.”

“Oh, then, yes.” She stood up and tucked her shirt back into her jeans. “Now?”

“Yes, let’s.” Alexander poured two gin and tonics, handed her one, and led her out of the library.

Was that wedding bells I could hear?

Probably not, but you know.

“Gabriella, I need a moment.” Aunt Cat touched my elbow.

“Of course, Aunt Cat. Let’s go outside. Some fresh air will do you well.” I let Miles know I was going, but I didn’t need to.

Because my father was making a beeline to him.

Oh, help me, Jesus.

***

MILES

“Miles, my boy.” The Duke of Bath approached me with a fresh drink in his hand. “As my daughter appears to have agreed to an intermission of the Hastings Family Show, can I get you a drink?”

That was a scarily accurate depiction of tonight.

“I would appreciate that, Lord Bath, thank you.”

“Please, call me Henry.”

That wasn’t going to happen.

He poured me a whiskey to match his and took me off to the side. “Gabriella tells me the two of you have decided to pursue a relationship.”

“Yes, sir, we have.” I shifted. “I know I’m not the kind of man you wanted for your daughter, but—”

“Are you a criminal?”

“I—no.”

“Are you a serial cheater?”

“I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life, sir.”

“Are you evading the government?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried, much to my chagrin in tax season.”

He chuckled. “Then what’s the issue?”

“I’m aware you wanted her to marry into the gentry. An Earl, a Duke, even a Viscount or Baron, and I will never be that—”

“Miles.” He stopped me. “Do you intend make my daughter as happy as you possibly can?”

“I do, sir.”

“Do you intend to give your all to a relationship with her?”

“I do, sir, yes.”

“Do you see a real, earnest future with my daughter?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Then, dear boy.” He touched my shoulder and turned us away, leading me into the hallway. “I do not care if you are a gardener or the future King of England. I do not care if you come with an estate the size of our own or a cottage. I do care very much about the person who will love my daughter, do you understand?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you love my daughter?”