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“Good girl,” he said mischievously.

For some reason, that comment made heat unfurl somewhere deep inside of her. Being that close to him inside the carriage made her think of all the ways he could be holding her right now, having his lips on hers, forgetting about everything and everyone.

In an effort to focus on something else, she glanced outside the carriage window. The streets were bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, casting a warm, inviting light that guided them back to their estate. With each step, anticipation built within her, fueled by the mystery of what awaited next. When she headed toward the house, he gently grabbed her by the elbow, leading her in the opposite direction.

“This way,” he said softly.

As they approached the gazebo nestled in the lush garden, her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. The gazebo was aglow with the light of dozens of candles, which twinkled so brightly that they created a canopy of stars that seemed to dance with delight.

In the very center of the gazebo, there was a table set with exquisite care, adorned with fine linens and gleaming silverware. A bouquet of fresh flowers graced the center, their sweet fragrance mingling with the scent of the night air. Soft music drifted through the air, the strains of a familiar melody adding to the enchantment of the moment.

At each place setting, there was a delicate crystal goblet filled with sparkling wine, its effervescent bubbles catching the light in a dazzling display. The array of delectable dishes, each one more tantalizing than the last, tempted Penelope’s senses with their rich aromas and vibrant colors.

“This is beautiful, James,” she gasped while she was still trying to process everything that was in front of her. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied back. “You should just enjoy it all.”

“How could I not?” she asked, allowing him to help her to her sit. He then took a seat opposite her.

“Please, help yourself,” he gestured. “I’m afraid that we won’t be served upon as I have asked for some privacy, so we could enjoy this moment… alone. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she was quick to reassure him.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, he raised his glass in a toast, the rich golden liquid catching the candlelight in a radiant shimmer.

“To us,” he said, his voice filled with affection, “and to the many more adventures we shall share together.”

Penelope smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection. “To us,” she echoed, overwhelmed by everything.

She couldn’t imagine that he would go to such lengths just to secure an heir. Then again, he also bet her that she would be the one pleading for a night together before the designated deadline was up — the deadline she herself had chosen which now seemed all too cruel. She wondered if he would try anything this evening. After all, he had done so much for her. Perhaps he expected something in return. And as a fervent redness graced her cheeks, she realized that she would probably not say no.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice suddenly brought her back to the present moment, and she realized that she had been lost in her own reverie for too long.

“Oh, nothing,” she tried to dismiss his comment.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” he pointed out, bringing the glass to his lips once again. “You were gazing into the distance, smiling somehow… mischievously.”

Goodness!she thought to herself. Did she really do that?

“Really?” she asked, clearing her throat a little as she spoke. “I had no idea.”

“Yes, you were,” he assured her. “That is why I’m so curious what it was about.”

“Oh, really… absolutely, nothing, I assure you,” she said, adding a dismissive wave of the hand as she did so. She hastily glanced at the table, wondering what to try first. “The roast looks delicious. Should we partake in some?”

He still had that smirk on his face, as if he knew everything, but he simply wished to hear her say it out loud. She thought he would have something to say, as he always did, but strangely enough, he remained silent. Only those eyes of his seemed to bear witness to everything that had been going on inside of her.

“Yes, we could,” he finally said, proceeding to cut her a piece of the roast, then cut some for himself as well. “I think you should wear it all the time.”

“Wear what?” she asked, still in a flurry of her own thoughts.

“The necklace,” he reminded her. “It becomes you.”

“Oh,” she touched it tenderly yet again, completely having forgotten it was still there, hanging around her neck. He was right. It had become part of her already, and she didn’t want to take it off. “Thank you. But perhaps it is a tad bit too formal to be worn every day.”

“Nonsense,” he said. It was his turn to wave dismissively. “You wear what you wish to wear, what makes you feel good. Clothes and accessories are there to serve a purpose, not to dictate our lives.”

“Spoken like a true woman,” she laughed, teasing him.