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He shrugged. “I came back. The observatory looks very clean, by the way.”

She glanced up at the open roof, the stars glimmering through the glass dome.

“I assume that it was you who opened the panels?”

Stephen nodded. “It occurred to me that you might not have seen the observatory entirely open. At night, no less. Tell me, what do you think?”

Beatrice took a few tentative steps to the center of the room, tilting her head back.

The sky was magnificent. Studded with stars, there were more constellations and stars everywhere she looked, more and more until it was too dizzying to look up at the sky.

Swallowing, Beatrice glanced down at Stephen.

He was dressed carelessly in his shirtsleeves, and she saw that there were sheets and pillows thrown over a chaise longue behind him.

“I didn’t even know there was a sofa in here,” she said, pointing at it.

It felt like a silly thing to say, but the atmosphere between them was so thick and heavy that she had to saysomething.

He twisted around, grimacing down at the sofa. “Yes, it was covered in books and papers.”

“Were you… did you sleep here?”

He cleared his throat. “I did, yes. I meant to go to my townhouse, but when I got there, I could not quite bring myself to go in. I came back, and Mouse showed me up here. He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t choose a guest room, but it feltrightin here, somehow.”

She swallowed, nodding. “This is your home. I shouldn’t have made you leave.”

“And I should not have left.”

Her head snapped up, and she eyed him. “You still did. But I am sorry I made you. Even though you never apologized for taking over my room.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This again? It was my room first. I am not an apologizing sort of man.”

She threw out her hands. “Oh yes, silly me. I forgot, everything in this house is yours, and you areneverin the wrong.”

He rose to his feet, advancing on her. “I earned it before you did.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that…” He stopped abruptly, turning away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Some of her anger melted away. “Iamsorry, Stephen. Thisisyour home.”

“And I…” He paused, clearing his throat. “I am sorry, too. I think that we have both acted rashly in this regard.”

“That is true. But why are you back? Are you here only for the rooms? I…I don’t understand you,” Beatrice said.

Perhaps it was high time for the truth.

Stephen bit his lip. “I know. I warned you that I don’t even understand myself at times, didn’t I? All these years, I’ve been hellbent on avenging myself. It seemed so noble, but when you said it like that—denying myself something you want to spite a dead man—it suddenly seemed different. Silly. Pointless. Like stabbing myself and waiting forhimto feel pain.”

He took a step closer, and for the first time, Beatrice realized that he was uncertain. “On the way to the townhouse, I didn’t care for all of this. All I could think about was you. Your smile when you discover a new book, the sparkle in your eyes when I tease you, your blush when I touch you, your voice when you talk about something you’re excited about… I couldn’t stay at the townhouse. I didn’t want to lose all of this. I didn’t want to lose you. I love you, Beatrice.”

She sucked in a breath. “You don’t mean it.”

“I have tried to convince myself I didn’t mean it. Love is troublesome, or so I’ve always believed. My father taught me that. I thought I could be attracted to you, but nothing more. I was so sure I could control myself, keep the values I’ve held onto for so long.” He closed his eyes briefly. “But dreams change. And for some time now, I think you have been my new dream.”

A lump formed in Beatrice’s throat. She took a tentative step forward but did not reach out to touch him. She wanted to, badly, but it was as if there was a pane of glass between them. A boundary.