“Of course,” she said, her voice thick. “They mean… everlasting love.”
His face brightened. “Does this mean…”
“I love you,” she told him, at last. “Of course, I love you. If I did not, I would have sent you away after you accompanied us to Woodholme.”
His smile widened into a shining grin. “And… am I allowed to continue what I had hoped to say in the parlor, when you so abruptly put your hand over my mouth?”
“Not yet. But after this meeting with your mother, I thought we might walk in the gardens. To the cedar tree, perhaps,” she said.
Daniel leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “You are hopeful that my mother has finally found the perfect matches?”
“You told me she had,” Phoebe reminded him, for he had sent her a letter two days prior, inviting the sisters to the manor for an “informal gathering of tea and suitors.”
Daniel nodded. “Indeed, I did, but I suppose I did not realize how… particular your sisters are. I understand Ellen’s wariness, of course, but I had wrongly assumed that Joanna was happy to court any gentleman with good station and reasonable fortune.”
“Ah, is that how you describe yourself?” Phoebe teased, lifting her hand to caress his face.
He chuckled. “Remember, she only courted me in order to distract you. My pride has almost recovered.”
“It is something I shall never forget. Truly, I knew my sisters could be wayward, but I did not realize they were such rascals until that moment.” Phoebe shuddered a little, not wanting to remember those awful events too keenly. “Still, I am glad that it could all be remedied without too much trouble. Indeed, did you ever send that wretched Baron his fifty pounds?”
Daniel pulled a face. “I did, and I had intended to send it with a warning, but once those damning reports appeared in the scandal sheets, it appeared there was no need. Last I heard, he had gone to Scotland to hide, and has no intention of returning.” He paused. “Wasit you who wrote those articles?”
“I have told you countless times that if it was me, I would wear it with pride,” Phoebe said, flashing a mischievous wink. “Alas, it was not. Not directly, at least.”
He peered down at her, laughing softly. “Infuriating as ever.”
“Would you love me any other way?”
“Certainly not.” He cradled her face in his hands, the bouquet of tulips pressed between them, forming a velvety bridge between their hearts.
And as he dipped his head, Phoebe did not allow her fears or the bygone aches of her heart to pull her away. In a way, they had both spent their lives avoiding love, distracting themselves with the needs of their families before considering what it was that they might want or need. Had they never met, they might have spent their entire lives, no matter how long or short, never knowing what love really was.
No longer.
He kissed her softly, his thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. And as she pressed her free hand to his chest, feeling the racing of his heart, she kissed him back, refusing to be afraid. Whatever lay ahead of them, she would face it with courage, for a love like theirs, so hard won, was not something to turn away from. It was a gift, rarely given, and she did not know how she had ever thought she could be without it.
The rest of the world vanished for a moment, taking with it every heartache, every pain they had put one another through, every misstep they had made, every foolish choice, allowing the future to weave around them.
Like roots, they were entwined now, and even if the curse did not skip him, she would not regret a moment spent at his side, loving him.
As their kiss deepened, his arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer, a distant sound pierced the bliss of their embrace. It sounded an awful lot like applause.
A smile formed on Phoebe’s lips, and though she wished she could ignore it, she pulled back. “I fear we have an audience. I would not want to give my sisters any wild notions about how a lady and a gentleman should behave.”
“What do you mean?” Daniel gazed at her, his arm still around her waist.
Phoebe glanced over her shoulder, chinning toward the carriage and the two giddy girls who were cheering at the top of their lungs.
“Ah,” Daniel said, laughing. “Then I suppose we ought to save things that need to be said and kisses that must be had until we wander in the gardens.”
Phoebe smiled. “I think that would be wise.” She paused. “Did my father arrive already?”
“He was asleep in the drawing room, the last I saw of him,” Daniel replied, for Brook had gone on ahead of his daughters, having insisted on riding his horse to Westyork Manor.
Indeed, Phoebe’s father had been riding a great deal since that day when Ellen had been rescued from Jacob’s clutches, apparently taking inspiration from Daniel.
Of course, Brook was none-the-wiser to what had actually happened on that particular day, and Daniel and the Wilson sisters were determined to keep it that way. But Brook had been more cheerful, doing more with his time than spending every day in his study, and though Phoebe could not explain why, she was not going to argue with the pleasant change in her father.
