Page 25

H er heart thundered in her ears as she marched out the back door, Jacob at her heels.

Over the past three days of missing and reminiscing over their misadventures, and of coming to terms with her own dubious birthright, Amelia had almost forgotten completely about the arranged marriage that had spurred her to run away in the first place.

To be reminded of the circumstances, and then to have her two worlds collide the way that they did immediately after, was beyond anything she could have possibly expected.

And yet, somehow, someone else did not appear quite as surprised as he ought to be.

Amelia waited until they reached the very edge of their pathetic excuse of a city garden before whirling around.

“How long have you known?” She crossed her arms, determined not to be distracted by his boyish good looks, his carefree manners, or his piercing blue eyes. She managed to keep her frown stern, mostly.

Jacob had the good sense to look slightly abashed, at least. He shoved a hand in his pocket, his smile wry. “A while—although I didn’t manage to confirm it until our return.”

“Is that why you helped me?”

“What?”

“This—this betrothal .” Amelia swallowed. The word was at once exciting and unsettling to utter. “Was it why you kept helping me? Did my father send you?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He walked closer. Amelia glared at him, and he stopped mid-pace. “I—I swear I had no clue of your identity, not at the Docks, not at Mrs. Wilmark’s.”

She raised a questioning brow.

“Not until Milford House, at least—and even then, only an inkling,” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“I only suspected, Amelia.” He ran his free hand over his hair, messing up his valet’s hard work, and rendering himself even more attractive.

It was entirely unfair. How was she supposed to stay angry when he huffed that way, with his face slightly flushed?

“It felt far too coincidental—almost too good to be true.”

“So you decided to tell me nothing?”

“I couldn’t raise hopes that might only prove untrue.”

“You think you didn’t raise any hopes?” Amelia scoffed. His charged gaze met hers. She sniffed and suppressed her sentimental urges. “Jacob, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.”

“And yet you have. ”

“ You knew that.” She marched closer, arching her neck upwards to keep her eyes on his. “I didn’t.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

She sniffed before she swallowed. “I suppose that’s something.”

“Amelia.” He lifted his hands slowly towards hers, as if waiting for her approval.

She paused a moment before letting him close his fingers around her own.

After days of feeling entirely unmoored, his touch grounded her—anchoring her to the possibility of a happy future that had felt entirely out of reach just weeks ago.

“I admit the thought felt overwhelming to me at first—to think that the match my father had insisted on foisting upon me could be one I longed for myself. And yet, as the days passed, I found myself comforted, even eager, that my suspicions be true. And when I received confirmation upon our return, I felt only the most overwhelming rush of relief.”

“Relief?” She bit her lip. A small smile tugged at her lips. “I would hardly call that a romantic sentiment.”

“Relief, my darling Amelia,” he said, as he lifted her hands and kissed them, his own lips smiling, “because I would not have to fight my father to dissolve what he’d been so determined to arrange.

Relief—because the woman I wanted was the same one my father had arranged for me to marry.

Relief—and joy—because I wouldn’t be forced to choose between obligation and love. ”

“Love?” The word felt thrilling on her lips, and to her heart.

“Yes, love.” He kissed her hands again, slowly this time.

She felt the warmth skittering from her fingertips up to her elbows, up to her shoulders, and down her spine.

His gaze pinned her in place with the weight of his adoration.

“Because somehow, between hackney drivers and highwaymen, between fending off snobby countesses and bachelor baronets, I have wholly, irrevocably fallen in love with you.”

Her throat felt tight, even as her heart soared. She cleared her throat with effort. “Even if I’m nothing more than the daughter of a thief?”

“In my eyes, Amelia,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers, “you are and have always been a princess.”

She hardly knew who moved first. Most likely, both of them did. She only knew that, from the moment their lips finally found each other, that she was well and truly home.

“Marry me, Amelia,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her cheek and against her brow, his hands tugging her in by the waist. She folded readily into his arms. “Marry me—and let me share your adventures for the rest of our lives.”

She laughed against his ear, her feet dangling beneath her as she clung onto his shoulders. Only he could make her soar. “Very well, if you insist.”

It was his turn to laugh. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

She kissed him again, a thousand hopes for a happy future bursting within her.

“I love you, Jacob,” she whispered, her joy overflowing.

“And I love you.”