“What’s that?”
“Is it me or the mission?”
Gabriel didn’t answer right away. “At first, it was the mission. Now… it’s less clear.”
She looked up at him. “I don’t want illusions.”
“You deserve more than that.”
He reached for her hand. This time, she let him take it.
“I wasn’t planning this,” he said. “Not the proposal, not the investigation, and certainly not you.”
“And yet, here we are.”
“Yes,” he said. “Here we are.”
He leaned in, giving her a chance to step back. She didn’t. For a single heartbeat, the world stilled, and only the whisper of the breeze and the nearness of him remained. Something in her braced, then broke. The wall she hadn’t realized she’d built. The kiss, when it came, was gentle and sure, a declaration made in silence. It wasn’t merely the feel of his lips or the warmth of his hand. It was the startling ease of it. As if she’d been waiting for that moment longer than she dared admit.
Her fingers curled against the sleeve of his coat. His hand cupped her cheek. They didn’t rush.
When they parted, she stayed close.
“That changes things,” she whispered.
“It already has.”
They walked back toward the house, slower this time. Leticia’s heart was a careful tangle of hope and confusion. Each step with him was both grounding and unsteady. She wanted him to say something that would reveal what he truly saw when he looked at her.
But he said nothing. And she was too afraid to ask.
At the threshold, Gabriel paused. “I should say goodbye to your aunt.”
Leticia opened the door. “Of course.”
Lady Eastbury met them in the drawing room. Her needle paused over her embroidery hoop.
“I trust the garden air did you both some good.”
Gabriel inclined his head. “It did, ma’am. Thank you for the invitation and your guidance.”
“You will need both,” she replied, with the barest smile, “Do take care on your return. And do send word of your next visit.”
Something unfamiliar flickered in her aunt’s expression. There was a softness, a warmth she couldn’t place. It vanished quickly, but it stayed with her.
“I will.”
Leticia followed him to the door.
At the threshold, she paused. “Tomorrow after supper, then?”
He gave a half smile. “Tomorrow.”
She watched him walk away.
Lady Eastbury stood near the drawing room door, her embroidery set neatly aside. She crossed to Leticia, her expression unreadable until she reached her side.
“You’re blushing, my dear,” she said, looping her arm through Leticia’s with surprising tenderness.
