Beatrice buried her face into the side of his neck, her breaths warm on his skin.
“You scared me half to death,” he confessed, lips brushing her temple.
“I won’t deny I was a little terrified for a moment too.” She glanced up at him. “At least until you came for me.”
“I’ll always be there for you, Bea.”
“I believe you,” she said, and the words hung in the damp air between them, more sacred than any wedding vow.
They stayed that way for a moment, clinging to each other, until Beatrice drew in a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine what I must look like.”
Edward smiled. “You look like you’ve clawed our way out of the grave. Which, technically, you have.”
She shifted slightly and winced.
Edward tightened his arms around her. “We should get you home. I don’t want you falling ill and your ankle will need rest.”
“I forgot about my ankle until now.”
He nodded. “Fighting for your life will do that to you.”
She glanced at the remains of the grave, then back at him. “Think you are ready to fight for this marriage?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Good.”
Beatrice looked up at him then, her face streaked with soil and something softer beneath it—trust, maybe, or the first flicker of hope. She gave a tentative smile.
“I should be honest, though…” Edward started.
“Please tell me you have not been keeping more secrets.”
“One.”
Her expression soured and Edward knew he had no choice now but to barrel on, no matter how heavily his heart hammered.
“You thought perhaps this was to be an arranged marriage, but, the truth is, Bea, well…” He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair.
“Yes?”
“The truth is, I loved you from the moment I saw you.”
The words came out in a rush and a heavy weight dropped from his shoulders. He should be terrified. Love at first sight was nonsense. At least that was what he’d always thought. It was what he’d been telling himself. Give it time. Wait and get to know her.
Well, he knew her now and it only proved his first instinct right. Nearly losing her had sealed the truth fully in his mind.
“I love you,” he repeated. “And I know you likely do not feel the same but I hope, given time—”
She pressed her lips hard against his, cutting off his words. When she finally drew back, a small smile slipped across her lips. “I love you.”
He blinked a few times and tried to register the words. “Pardon?”
“I love you, Edward.” She shook her head. “Maybe from the first look, or maybe the first dance, I’m not certain. But I was reluctant to confess as much. I have seen what happens when one falls for the wrong man.”
“As have I,” he agreed, then gave into the grin trying to force its way across his throat.
“I love you, Bea.” He shook his head. “Forgive me, I had to say it again.”
