The door finally opened, and his heart jumped, then tumbled. Sir Bertrand came inside.

Then Lady Juliette followed, and his mouth went dry.

She had a white ribbon threaded through her dark curls, and her brown eyes were wide as a deer’s.

He swallowed.

Sir Bertrand closed the door and said, “What is it? Has Haverly sent you?”

“No, sir. This isn’t an official call. I …” How did he say to her uncle that he wanted to pour out his heart to Lady Juliette before she was married to Duke Heinrich and beyond his reach?

Sir Bertrand’s brows rose, and he looked from Daniel to Juliette and back. “I see. I believe I shall wait outside the door. I can give you ten minutes.”

Daniel had always appreciated how perspicacious Bertie Thorndike could be.

Once they were alone, Daniel was certain he was making an absolute cake of himself. He should never have come inside. He should have let well enough alone. She must think him an utter fool.

He glanced upward and realized he was still wearing his hat. With a quick jerk, he snatched it off. How awkward could he be?

Juliette fairly glittered in a white gown sewn with little crystals or pearls or some other expensive frippery. The delicacy of her features, that upturned nose that drove him to distraction, and—he inhaled—yes, the scent of roses.

She was an earl’s daughter, for the love of mincemeat pies. What was he doing here?

“Daniel, what’s wrong?”

“Me. Us,” he croaked.

Her arched brows rose, and questions filled her lovely eyes.

He could not believe his stupidity, but he might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. Just say it.

“Juliette Thorndike, I love you. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I can barely function for thought of you. I know it is probably far too late and that you are most likely betrothed to the duke, but I cannot let you leave England without speaking my heart.” He throttled his hat brim, his face burning.

Her pink lips parted, and she blinked.

Shaking his head, he mumbled, “I just wanted you to know.” Clapping his hat on his head, he started for the door. What a fool he was.

“Daniel Swann, don’t you take another step.”

He froze for a long moment, then slowly turned around, removing his hat to throttle the brim once more.

Would she smack his face? Would she blister him for his hubris?

She put her hand on his arm, and a fizzing shock went through him.

“Is that all you have to say? You love me? And then you bolt like a fox with a pack of hounds on his tail?”

“What else is there to say?” The walls seemed to inch closer, all the air being sucked from the already-too-small room.

“You might at least have shown me the courtesy of an opportunity to reply.”