The door swung open before he could continue, and then the footman was assisting her out of the carriage, and he was following her, his fingers still warm from her skin.

She glanced back at him, a wry look on her face, and he felt a huge sense of relief that she wasn’t currently in tears at his not responding better nor was she angry at him.

Of course a woman like Della would not burst into tears. Although he wouldn’t put it past her to be angry, so he should be grateful for that.

“We will speak later,” he said in a low tone as they walked up the stairs to the house. The door was flung open and lights blazed out, a whirl of dancers and silver trays and rushing servants indicating it was already a very full event. “Or we could just go home,” he added hopefully.

She gave him a reproachful look. “We promised we would attend. What would Society say if they heard the heir to the Duke of Northam had done something so disgraceful as to not attend a party he had accepted an invitation to? Society would reject you.”

“I doubt that.” He didn’t bother to hide his arrogance—she was already acquainted with that, and since she loved him—she loved him!—he didn’t have to disguise who he was.

Not that he ever had disguised anything, not with her. If anything, he felt as though her love would give him permission to be even more himself than before, albeit one that was as concerned with another person as himself.

Which seemed a lot like arithmetic, and he was not fond of arithmetic.

“And besides, my sisters will be here this evening.”

That was a much better reason to attend than any nonsense about offending Society. He had begun all this determined to navigate Society on his own terms, if he was going to have to navigate it at all. Especially since it seemed he would no longer be allowed to navigate the seas as the captain of his ship.

This was his course now, but he was determined to set it himself. With her at his side.

“Fine, then. We’ll stay.”

The Griffith of a few weeks ago would be aghast at his change of heart, but his heart had changed. And she was the reason.

He should probably say something. “And I love you too.”

Chapter 20

Della wasn’t nervous anymore. She was . . . hopeful. She hadn’t been hopeful in so long, she barely recognized it, but there it was.

She knew he felt the same way, even before he said it. She’d known it, to a certain extent, since they’d been naked together in bed, but now his entire demeanor indicated he cared.