The liquid had been sopped up and the shards piled on the tray while they’d been talking, and Liza hefted it back up. “Now if I were you, ma’am, I’d have him go back out the window, and quick. We don’t want everyone in the village gossiping about poor Professor Moore here, do we? He has a reputation to maintain.”

“No,” Alva said. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“I’ll go back downstairs and tell them I tripped on the stairs, and no one need be the wiser. After all, I don’t know if Cook could stand it that I met him before she did.”

“But you will test the tray prototype for me, won’t you?” Sam said, looking up from the sketches he was busily making on Alva’s writing desk.

“Oh, sir, I’d be honored,” Liza said, the blush returning to her cheeks. “Imagine you wanting me to test something for you. You just send it right along, and I’ll think of something to tell the others.”

Her smile threatening to overwhelm her whole face, Liza backed out of the room. Sam made a few final notes on the paper he’d been working on, folded it, patted his blanket as though searching for pockets, and looked up at Alva with a confused expression.

“I’m not wearing pants,” he said, seemingly puzzled but unconcerned.

“No,” she agreed.

He shrugged, let the blanket drop, and got back into bed. “Good morning,” he said, grinning. “How much time do you think we have?”

“Unbelievable,” Alva said, regarding him dryly. She grabbed his pants from their resting place at the foot of the bed and tossed them at his face.

He caught them one-handed. “What?”

“Remember the whole leaving by dawn thing? The idea was to avoid the servants, not mine their brains for new and exciting engineering dilemmas.”

“I will grant you that,” he said, setting the pants aside and sliding across the bed so he could put his arm around her. “But since we’d already failed to avoid them, it seemed a waste to ignore such an interesting problem. Besides, she had a very amusing goose story.”

Alva narrowed her eyes.

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, but she blushed. “Are you going to get dressed or not?”

“Is not an option?”

“No.”

“Then I’m getting dressed,” he said, smirking at her when she threw a pillow at him. He watched her as he tugged his pants on, delighted by the amusement playing around the corners of her mouth. She was happy—he’d made her happy, the woman he was in love with. All he wanted to do … was keep doing that. For the rest of his life.

He opened his mouth before he knew he meant to. “Let’s get married,” he said.