In silence we watched Lady Hester and Miss Grant stop where the bushes and trees were more densely packed. There was some discussion between them—or more accurately a protest from Miss Grant and a dismissal from Hester—then they tentatively forged a way through the foliage. Hester did seem to find some solace in the midst of nature. Or perhaps she was merely looking for a private place of relief. It had been a long journey.

As they disappeared from view, I heard the thud of hooves—walking, not galloping—and turned toward the sound, my heart quickening. About a hundred yards or so back along the road, a man leading a bay horse emerged from the woods, his lean silhouette as familiar to me now as my sister’s form.

“Thank God,” Julia said.

Behind us I heard Miss Grant call, “He is here, Hester! Let us return.” I looked over my shoulder to see her step back into the undergrowth to retrieve her beloved.

Julia ushered me forward. “Go, while Hester is indisposed and you have the chance to be private.”

Evan had tied his horse to one of the bushes and was striding toward us. Julia was right. Lady Hester would not wait politely while I spoke to her brother, and I had so much to say. I picked up my hems and walked swiftly to him.

What if he was not as eager to see me as I was to see him? It was quite possible I had placed too much upon one good-bye kiss. Perhaps he no longer felt as strongly as I did. Or maybe the force of emotion between us had just been within my own imagination. A chastening thought.

I drew a deep breath. My feelings, at least, had not changed.

The distance between us was almost closed, his expression as anxious as my own. And then he smiled and it was full of warm welcome and tender delight.

“Gus—I am so glad to see you.”

Lud, the way he said my name; it was as if I could lean into that soft sibilance and feel the wrap of it around me like two strong arms.

“You are here.” A stupid observation, but I could not contain my relief at his safe arrival and the sweetness of his greeting. He was alive and well, although somewhat bedraggled. Clearly, he had not shaved for some time—his dear face gaunt beneath thick stubble—and leaves and mud clung to his greatcoat.

“Of course. I will always come when you ask.”