"To precedent-breaking," Eveline countered.
"To translation," Adrian added with a meaningful look at her. "Of texts, of hearts, and of traditions into something entirely new."
They drank, and Eveline felt the bubbles match the effervescence in her chest. Everything was changing, indeed, but not in the fearful way she'd anticipated. Instead, each change opened new possibilities, new ways of being both herself and part of something larger.
"I should go," Morrison said as the clock chimed five. "But thank you for including me in your celebrations. It means more than you know."
"You're family, Morrison," Adrian said simply. "Scholarly family, but family nonetheless."
The young man flushed with pleasure, gathering his notes with renewed purpose. "Until tomorrow, then. We'll reveal what's been hidden for centuries."
After he left, Eveline and Adrian sat in comfortable silence.
"Regrets?" Adrian asked softly.
"None," she replied, surprising herself again with the certainty. "Questions, concerns, a fair amount of terror at the magnitude of what we're attempting, but no regrets."
"What terrifies you most?"
She considered. "That I'll wake up and this will all have been a dream. That I'll be back in my lodgings, facing a future of diminishing options and growing desperation."
"And if I promise it's real? If I swear that tomorrow you'll still be my brilliant, impossible betrothed with a major research project and a future full of translations?"
"Then I'll believe you." She turned in his arms. "But you'll have to remind me daily. Possibly hourly."
"I'll write it into the contracts," he promised solemnly. "Daily affirmations ofreality. Hourly if needed."
"Speaking of contracts, we never discussed the wedding itself."
"Whatever you want. St. George's with a thousand guests, or a quiet ceremony with just witnesses. Your choice."
"What would you prefer?"
"Honestly? Something small. Family, close friends, no need for grand display." He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. "I want to marry you, not perform for society."
"Small it is, then. Though your family..."
"Will adjust. My sister will be thrilled as she's been haranguing me about marriage for years. My mother might take more convincing, but she values intelligence. Once she knows you properly, she'll adore you."
"Your mother. The Dowager Duchess." Eveline felt a fresh wave of nerves. "Adrian, what if..."
"What if we take each challenge as it comes?" he interrupted gently. "We've negotiated contracts, secured your positions, planned joint research. Surely we can handle one dowager duchess."
"You make it sound simple."
"Nothing about us is simple. But that's what makes it interesting." He stood, drawing her up with him. "Dance with me."
"Again? You know what happened last time."
"I'm counting on it." But his hold was gentle, swaying more than dancing. "I want to tell you something."
"If it's another secret academic identity, I may need more champagne."
"No more secrets. Just truth." He pulled her closer. "I've been alone a long time, Eveline. Not physically because there's always someone wanting the duke's attention. But intellectually, emotionally... I'd resigned myself to isolation."
"Adrian..."
"Let me finish. You crashed into my life arguing about book organization and Latin etymology. You challenged everything I thought I knew about myself, my world, my future. You made me want more than resignation."
