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T he small desk in Honoria’s room was cluttered with only two objects: the crescent moon charm and the brass compass.

She sat beside them, her fingertips tracing their edges, her mind racing.

One had been a reminder that she hesitated.

The other had been a quiet assurance that she didn’t need to. Both had come from him.

She exhaled a slow, uneven breath and leaned back in her chair. This wasn’t about her past. Not truly.

For years, she had believed she needed closure. That once she had confirmation of her late husband’s death, she would be free. But that had been a lie.

Reese had stayed. He had told her exactly what he wanted and had placed no conditions on his feelings for her. And still, she was afraid.

Because this wasn’t about legal documents or a marriage that had ended long ago. This was about her heart. The real fear, the one she had never spoken aloud, was that if she let herself love again if she truly let Reese in… she might lose him too.

Her throat tightened, and she pushed back from the desk, striding toward the trunk at the foot of the bed.

She grabbed a gown and folded it with sharp, precise movements.

She had always been practical, always known when to walk away.

Leaving now would be the safest choice. She reached for another dress. Folded it. Packed it. Another. Another.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of a traveling cloak, and then she saw them again. The compass and the charm together on the desk. She stopped.

The room went quiet, save for the distant crash of waves against the cliffs.

She had spent years waiting for something, for proof of her husband’s fate, for freedom from uncertainty.

And now, she had everything she thought she needed.

But it wasn’t closure she had been searching for all along. It was courage.

Her fingers loosened around the cloak. Slowly, she let it fall back into the trunk. She wasn’t leaving.

The sea air was sharp as Honoria stepped onto the cliffs, but the wind no longer unsettled her. She knew where Reese would be. And she was right.

He stood near the edge, gazing at the horizon, his hands tucked behind his back in that ever-patient way of his. The way a man waited when he already knew the outcome but wouldn’t rush it.

She took a breath and walked to him, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

Reese turned as she approached, his eyes searching hers. There was no demand in his gaze, only quiet expectation.

She stopped a few steps away and extended the brass compass to him.

He looked down at it but didn’t take it.

“You were wrong, you know,” she said softly. “I was lost.”

His brows lifted slightly.

“But,” she continued, “I think I know where I belong now.”

His chest rose with a slow inhale. She could see the question lingering in his eyes before he gave it voice.

“And where is that, Honoria?”

Her heart pounded, but this time, she didn’t hesitate.

“Wherever you are.”

The words had barely left her lips when he reached for her hand, drawing her forward.

“Then marry me.”

The breath left her lungs. “What?”

Reese’s fingers tightened around hers, steadying her, grounding them both. “Marry me, Honoria.” His voice was steady, certain. “Now. Before we leave this place before either of us can pretend that this isn’t exactly where we were meant to be.”

Her heart thumped wildly. This was the moment she had waited for, she had dreamed of. But something inside her locked tight, refusing to let her speak the word yes. Her fingers curled around his. “Reese…”

His expression flickered, not disappointment, but understanding.

She swallowed hard. “I—I can’t.”

Silence. The wind picked up, carrying the taste of salt through the air.

“Not because I don’t want to,” she rushed to say. “I do.”

His thumb traced slow circles over her knuckles. “Then why?”

She exhaled sharply, her fear clawing at her throat.

“Because…” Her voice faltered, and she had to force the words past the knot in her chest. “Because I need to know that when I stand before a vicar, it is my choice. I am not saying yes because I am afraid of being alone or because I think I owe it to you for waiting. I need to know that I’m not running toward you just because I’m tired of running away. ”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression. Finally, he nodded. Not in defeat. In acceptance. “I understand,” he said softly.

She blinked, startled by how easily he had let her have her answer. “You do?”

Reese stepped closer, cupping her cheek with warm, steady fingers. “I told you I’d never force you,” he murmured.

Her lips parted. “But… I thought—”

He silenced her with the barest brush of his thumb over her mouth. “You’ll marry me, Honoria Bainbridge.” His voice held quiet certainty. “Just not yet.”

Her breath caught. She didn’t deny it. Because, deep down, she knew he was right.

A soft, breathy laugh escaped her, unexpected in the stillness between them. Reese’s brow lifted, curiosity flickering across his face.

She shook her head, voice barely above the wind. “Men declaring undying love within a fortnight. I called it dramatic once.” Her eyes met his, something tender and unguarded in their depths. “And yet here we are.”

A slow smile curved at the corner of his mouth, though his grip on her remained steady. “Here we are.”

And for the first time, she was no longer afraid of the answer.