Page 33 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

“Yes. Perhaps it is.”

“But not just trusting me. It’s trusting yourself. Trusting the future. Trusting that no matter what happens, you’ll be alright. You’ll manage. Like you always do. That it’s alright to be happy now. Embrace it. Even knowing that pain will come in the future. But let tomorrow’s pain be tomorrow’s worry. Don’t let tomorrow’s pain leech today’s happiness.”

He pulled her close, thumbs sweeping at her cheeks.

“I want that. I want to have an untainted, unfiltered happiness. And I have felt it with you. That day we did the watercolors. Laughing with you gave me a glimpse of it. And then…” she stopped as a furious blush crept into her cheeks. “Earlier today in the cabin. I felt it. And I didn’t fight it. I let go.”

Deep penetrating eyes stole her breath. His feet framed hers. “Is that why you cried, darling?”

She nodded, but only made it halfway through before his lips claimed hers.

His groan eclipsed her own.

But then just as quickly as it started, he ripped his lips from hers. “I’d have you again right now, Amelia. But first we need to take care of a few things.”

“Like telling Arabella.”

“And replanning some of the wedding details.”

She gasped.

“Your day will be perfect.”

She was stuttering so badly that she couldn’t make out a sentence.

“You’re mine, Amelia. And you always will be. Did you think for even one second that you wouldn’t be after what we’ve shared?”

And then she sputtered out a question that fell somewhere betweenextremely significantandcouldn’t care less at the moment.“But you haven’t asked yet.”

He only grinned, pressed a kiss to her nose, and answered, “Don’t worry. I will.”

And since she was so discombobulated, she poked the bear, as per her nature. “How do you know I’ll say yes.”

His grin widened. “Don’t worry. You will.”

Chapter Twenty

As the twoapproached the country manor, they could see Arabella sitting in the garden working on her watercolors.

Benedict had been toying with multiple variations of how to present the news to the younger one, but in the end, he took the approach that would lead to the most smiles.

As they neared Arabella, he called out to her. Then he snatched Amelia’s hand in his and thrust their clasped hands in the air.

It took all of a dropped paintbrush, a clattered paint palette, and a shriek of delight from Arabella for Amelia to smile up at him.

Just to make her blush, he kissed her cheek. This of course, only caused Arabella to squeal in a slightly higher pitch and with increasing volume.

Dashing over to them, she wrapped Amelia in a hug. The two sisters tittered back and forth with paths of tears mingling between them as they embraced. He only caught a few snippets from the now hushed conversation, but the most important part was that he heard Arabella proclaim, more than once, how happy she was for her sister.

This was perfect. Exactly as it should be.

Arabella pulled back and studied the happy couple before letting out one last long whoop.

“I knew it all along. Not to insult you, Benedict—”

“Not to worry—”

“But from the moment I met you. I knew. I could see how you two were eyeing each other. And then the water coloring. And,” she rested her hands on her hips in mock fury, “how long did it take for you two to even notice that I left you alone on that walk?”