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“Will you do me a small honor, please?” she asked.

“Anything, m’lady. Ye only need ask.”

“Will you please call me by my name? It seems strange to be so formal under these serious circumstances.”

He grinned, those big white teeth glistening in the firelight. “And if ye call me by mine, I would consider it the greatest honor. Besides… ye’d better become used tae it.”

The moment turned from sorrowful to warm with the shift of the conversation.

It was something Havilland needed desperately, for the news of Madeline’s true colors had made everything in her world seem uncertain at the moment.

Jamison, with his wisdom, seemed to be someone that could right it.

Perhaps she was looking for light that only he could provide.

“Why must I become used to it?” she asked.

He lifted a red eyebrow. “Because ye canna call yer husband ‘my lord’. People would laugh.”

She burst out into giggles, her heart feeling giddy and light. “Are we back on that subject again?”

“We never left it.”

Her laughter continued, softly. “I told you that you should not jest on such a subject,” she said. “What if I take you seriously? I would hold you to it.”

“I wish ye would.”

Her smile faded, her eyes locking with his.

There was something liquid and warm flowing between them now, the same thing that made her knees weak and her heart flutter.

It was something intangible yet something immensely powerful and her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into his dark blue depths.

Thoughts of Madeline’s treachery faded for the moment.

“Are you telling me that you are serious about this?” she breathed.

He nodded, the hand on her arm squeezing again. “Aye,” he replied. “I have traveled far and wide, Havilland, but I’ve never found a woman like ye in all my days. I would be a poorer man the rest of me life if I left this place without ye. Would ye at least consider it?”

Havilland stared at him. It took her several long moments to realize that he was completely serious and when it finally hit her, her eyes widened.

“You are not jesting?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I told ye I wouldna jest on so serious a subject.”

She was at a loss, then; giddy, thrilled, but at a total loss. “But… but I am not a fine lady.”

“Ye’re the finest lady I have yet tae see.”

She shook her head. “I did not mean that,” she said. “I mean… I meant that I am what you see. I am all you see. I do not know how to sew or manage a household. I cannot do anything fine ladies are expected to do.”

His other hand came up, gripping her by both arms now as he gazed into her eyes. “And I wouldna have ye any other way,” he insisted softly. “Ye’re brave and intelligent and sweet. Ye make my heart joyful, Havilland. Tell me that ye’ll at least consider me offer.”

Havilland didn’t know what to say other than the obvious. “I… I will,” she said, feeling so excited that she was lightheaded with it. “If you truly want to marry me, then… then I will think on it.”

He flashed a grin that nearly made her swoon. “Then ye’ve made me a very happy man,” he said. “I will speak tae yer father right away. Do ye think he’ll give his permission? He dinna have someone else in mind for ye, did he?”

Her smile quickly faded. Oh, God, what to say? “I….”

“Jamie!”

A hiss came from the solar door and they both turned to see Tobias standing there. His gaze was on Jamison as he motioned to the man. “Come,” he said. “I have need of you.”

Jamison stood up, taking his hands from Havilland. “What is it?”

Tobias eyed Havilland before returning his gaze to Jamison, obviously trying to wordlessly tell the man that he didn’t want to speak freely in front of Havilland. Jamison took the hint. Quickly, he looked at Havilland.

“Go back tae bed,” he told her quietly. “I will see ye on the morrow. But if ye see yer sisters, either one of them, tell them nothing about this conversation. All of our lives may depend on it.”

Havilland’s brow furrowed in concern. “But Amaline knows nothing, I am sure.”

Jamison shook his head. “Until we are certain of that, say nothing, please.” When she nodded, he winked at her. “I will see ye on the morrow.”

With that, he was gone, slipping from the solar after Tobias and leaving Havilland sitting alone, still in a great deal of shock from their conversation.

Madeline was a traitor. And now, Havilland had agreed to think about becoming betrothed to Jamison.

Was it all really possible? Surely this was a dream.

The last she remembered, she had gone to her bedchamber.

She had laid upon her bed and fallen asleep.

Aye, that must be it– this is all a dream .

In the real world, Madeline wouldn’t be a spy and Jamison wouldn’t want to marry her.

… right?

Unable to decide if this was truly a dream, Havilland sat by the fire deep into the night, pondering the turn of events, pondering a life that was about to change forever. Pondering a sister lost and a betrothal gained.

There was someone she needed to talk it over with.