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“I just can’t believe how much of a fool I’ve been, Sister.”

His sister made a soft sound; and when she talked next, her voice was sad. “You’ve seen her with Lord Egerton, haven’t you?”

Matthew only ran his hands through his hair.

He regretted it. Everything. Seeing Agnes that night. Talking to her. Falling for her wits before he even realized it.

What he regretted most was the way he still felt. What he felt for her. Even now.

He was a big fool.

* * *

Matthew smiled at her, his eyes crinkling, and she smiled back at him.

Oh, how she had missed his smiles.

“Did I tell you how dashing you look when you smile, Your Grace?” she asked and rested her forehead on his sturdy chest even as the music went on inside.

It was their wedding night, but they had still managed to sneak away from their own party. Too selfish to share each other for too long.

Matthew grinned at her and took her lips in a slow, passionate kiss that made her believe she was in heaven. “No, you haven’t, dear wife, but you can start letting me know that, as from now, we have the rest of our lives together.”

“You’re such a tease, husband. You expect me to tell you how dashing you look for the rest of our lives?” Agnes asked. Her cheeks hurt from smiling too much.

Somehow, her heart hurt, too. She wasn’t sure why.

Matthew chuckled mischievously and opened his mouth to say something else when a crash sounded and the dream distorted, yanking Agnes back into reality.

Agnes slowly sat up in her bed. It was the silent hours of the night, and the unusual sounds did not stop.

“What’s happening?” she muttered under her breath, unsure whether to curse the sound for waking her up from her sweet dream or thanking it for bringing her back to reality and reminding her that her dreams were just that. Dreams.

The sound came again, and Agnes jumped.

Curiosity and concern led her to venture out of her room. She stuck her head out of her wooden door to see her mother rush down the stairs and hear her father’s harsh voice. Even though she couldn’t hear what he was saying, his voice sounded deep and annoyed.

Still wondering what was happening, Agnes walked back to her room and wrapped a thick shawl around herself before she walked back outside.

The voices could still be heard, and so she treaded quietly, following the echoes of hurried footsteps.

Descending the stairs, she thought of who it could be.

An unexpected guest?

But what would anyone be doing, wandering around by this time of the night? Did they need a place to sleep? Why did her father sound so irate?

Well, she would find out soon.

As she reached the entrance, the sight froze her in her tracks.

Rose. Rose Pilton, her supposedly ailing sister, stood before their parents.

What?!

Agnes gazed in disbelief at Rose, who, contrary to the family’s claims to the public, was in perfect health.

Clad in attire befitting commoners, Rose was escorted by Simon Hancock, a figure from their commoner days. The man she had run away with.