She turned to go, then stopped and turned back around, holding the letter about level with her shoulder. “Should I assume this means that you do not plan to rejoin us at Cloverhill?”

“No. I would not be good company.”

She gave him a little nod, her lips in an awkward, close-mouthed smile. Her arm came back down, and she knew she should leave. And she started to, she really did, or at least she thought about starting to, but then—

“It’s all in there,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?” She sounded a bit breathless, but maybe he did not notice.

“The letter,” he explained. “I laid out my intentions. For Jack.”

“Of course.” She nodded, trying not think about how jerky the movement felt. “I’m sure you were very thorough.”

“Conscientious in all things,” he murmured.

“Your new motto?” She was holding her breath, delighted to have found a new avenue of conversation. She did not want to say good-bye. If she walked away now, it was all done, wasn’t it?

He smiled politely and dipped his chin at her. “I shall look forward to your gift.”

“Then I will see you again?” Oh, blast. Blast blast blast. She had not meant that to come out as a question. It was supposed to be a statement, dry and sophisticated and definitely not uttered in that tiny little pathetically hopeful voice.

“I’m sure you will.”

She nodded.

He nodded.

They stood there. Looking at each other.

And then—

From her lips—

In the most unbelievably stupid—

“I love you!”

Oh God.

Oh God oh God oh God oh God. Where had that come from? She wasn’t supposed to say that. And it wasn’t supposed to sound so desperate. And he wasn’t supposed to be staring at her as if she’d grown horns. And she wasn’t supposed to be shaking and she was supposed to be breathing and oh dear God she was going to cry because she was such a wretch and—

She threw up her hands. Shook them. “I have to go!”

She ran. Oh bloody bloody. She’d dropped the letter.

She ran back. “Sorry.” Scooped it up. Looked at him.

Oh, that was a mistake. Because now she was talking again, as if her mouth had done anything but make a fool of her this evening. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t, well, I shouldn’t have. And I’m—I’m—” She opened her mouth, but her throat had closed up, and she thought she might have stopped breathing, but then, finally, like some horrifying belch, it came out—

“I really have to go!”

“Amelia, wait.” He put his hand on her arm.

She froze, closing her eyes at the agony of it.

“You—”