“She’s fine,” Daniel assured her, pausing for a moment to watch Hugh and Marcus bid them farewell and drag Chervil away. “A bit dusty, and I think my aunt may have lost five years from her life, but she is well. And once she sees you—” But he couldn’t finish. Anne had started to cry.
Daniel immediately knelt at her side, pulling her close. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “Everything is going to be all right.”
Anne shook her head. “No, it’s not.” She looked up, her eyes shining with love. “It’s going to be so much better.”
“I love you,” he said. He had a feeling he would be saying this frequently. For the rest of his life.
“I love you, too.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Will you marry me?”
“I already said yes,” she said with a curious smile.
“I know. But I wanted to ask you again.”
“Then I accept again.”
He pulled her close, needing to feel her in his arms. “We should probably go down. Everyone’s worried.”
She nodded, her cheek brushing lightly against his chest.
“My mother is in the carriage, and Aunt—”
“Your mother?” Anne yelped, pulling back. “Oh, my heavens, what must she think of me?”
“That you must be amazing, and lovely, and that if she’s very very nice to you, you’ll give her a bushel of grandchildren.”
Anne smiled slyly. “If she’s very nice to me?”
“Well, it goes without saying that I’ll be very nice to you.”
“How many children in a bushel, do you think?”
Daniel felt his soul grow light. “Quite a few, I imagine.”
“We will have to be most industrious.”
He amazed himself by maintaining a serious expression. “I am quite a hardworking fellow.”
“It’s one of the reasons I love you.” She touched his cheek. “One of the many, many reasons.”
“That many, eh?” He smiled. No, he was already smiling. But maybe now he was smiling just a little bit more. “Hundreds?”
“Thousands,” she confirmed.
“I might have to request a full accounting.”
“Now?”
And who said women were the only ones who liked to fish for compliments? He was more than happy to sit here and listen to her say lovely things about him. “Perhaps just the primary five,” he demurred.
“Well . . .” She paused.
And paused.
He gave her a dry look. “Is it really so difficult to come up with five?”
Her eyes were so wide and innocent that he almost believed her when she said, “Oh, no, it’s just that it’s a challenge to pick my favorites.”
“At random, then,” he suggested.
“Very well.” Her mouth scrunched up on one side as she thought. “There is your smile. I adore your smile.”
“I adore your smile, too!”
“You have a lovely sense of humor.”
“So do you!”
She gave him a stern look.
“I can’t help it if you’re taking all the good reasons,” he said.
“You don’t play a musical instrument.”
He looked at her blankly.
“Like the rest of your family,” she clarified. “I just don’t know if I could bear it, having to listen to you practice.”
He leaned forward with a roguish tilt of his head. “What makes you think I don’t play an instrument?”
“You don’t!” she gasped, and he almost thought she might be ready to reconsider having accepted him.
“I don’t,” he confirmed. “Which is not to say I haven’t taken lessons.”
She gazed at him questioningly.
“The boys of the family are not required to continue lessons once they leave for school. Unless they show exceptional talent.”
“Have any shown exceptional talent?”
“Not a one,” he said cheerfully. He rose to his feet and held out his hand. It was time to go home.
“Wasn’t I supposed to give you two more reasons?” she asked, letting him help her to her feet.
“Oh, you can tell me later,” he said. “We have lots of time.”
“But I just thought of one.”
He turned with a quizzical brow. “You say that like it took a great effort.”
“It’s actually more of a moment,” she said.
“A moment?”
She nodded, following him out the door into the hallway. “On the night we first met. I was prepared to leave you in the back hall, you know.”