"You did the same for me," she admitted. "I was so focused on proving my worth through work that I'd forgotten there were other forms of value. You reminded me that the heart matters too."
"Look at us being mutually life-changing. Morrison would be composing odes."
"Please don't give him ideas. His poetry is enthusiastic but terrible."
They swayed together in the gathering dusk, the library that had witnessed so much of their story wrapping them in familiar comfort.
"I love you," Adrian said simply. "Have I mentioned that today?"
"Only a dozen times."
"Shamefully negligent. I shall do better tomorrow."
"See that you do." She rose on her toes to kiss him. "I have standards now. Revolutionary standards."
"The best kind," he agreed, and kissed her back until thoughts of standards, revolutions, and tomorrow dissolved entirely.
When they finally parted, breathless and disheveled, the library was dark save for the dying fire.
"I should go," Eveline said without moving.
"You should," Adrian agreed, making no effort to release her.
"This is becoming a pattern."
"The best kind of pattern. Though perhaps we should set a wedding date soon, before Morrison's knocking loses all effectiveness."
"Six months?" she suggested. "Time to establish the Byzantine project, complete my Ovid translations, let the initial scandal die down?"
"Six months of this careful distance? We'll go mad."
"Then we'll have to find ways to stay sane. Joint research trips, perhaps. Purely professional, of course."
"Of course. Nothing improper about examining manuscripts together in remote libraries." His smile was wicked. "I'm particularly looking forward to Oxford. Excellent manuscripts and terrible weather so we'll be forced to work closely together for warmth."
"You're incorrigible."
"I'm in love. It has a similar effect."
Eventually, propriety and practicality won. Adrian summoned his carriage, escorting her home with all proper ceremony despite the improper ideas clearly occupying both their minds.
"Tomorrow," he said at her door, "we sign contracts that remake marriage itself. Are you ready?"
"I've been ready since you stole my translations," she replied. "It just took me a while to realise it."
"Then tomorrow we make it official. Partnership in all things."
"In all things," she agreed, and watched him disappear into the night.
Inside, she found Harriet waiting with tea and expectations.
"Well?" her friend demanded. "Are you revolutionarily betrothed yet?"
"We've drafted contracts that would make Mary Wollstonecraft proud," Eveline confirmed. "I keep my name, my income, my positions. He's even deeding me a house."
"A house! Eveline, that's extraordinary."
"Everything about this is extraordinary. He's joining my Byzantine project, did I mention? Turns out he's been secretly publishing scholarly work for years."
