Evangeline entered the library, her head high, even as she desperately wished to twist her hands together. This interview should have been everything she’d hoped for. It was the culmination of her very reason for meeting Anthony alone that night, so many days ago.

It was hard to believe that she had fallen in love and lost that love in such a short space. But there it was.

Ellesmere glanced up from his book.

“Is it interesting?” she asked, thinking of nothing else to say.

Those green eyes studied her carefully. “In truth, I have no idea what it is about. I’ve been staring at the same page for some time now.”

“You are preoccupied?” she queried.

She expected him to smile but he did not.

“Lady Evangeline, I do believe that you and I are to be good friends.”

She sighed which should have given her relief. It did not. For she knew what she had to say. But how did she say it? “I am grateful that you think me your friend.”

“And I had thought we could be more.”

Thought. That gave her pause. For this was not the way a proposal was begun, was it? She had no experience of it.

“But I think it would be a great mistake,” he finally said, closing the book as if he were closing the possibility of them shut as well.

“I see.” And she did. Ellesmere was a wise man.

“I—” He looked askance. “Your heart is elsewhere.”

The words rushed to the tip of her tongue to deny it but, instead, the feeling that overcame her now was, indeed, relief. “Is it so very obvious?”

“Yes,” he confirmed without joy at his correct observation. “Last night when the two of you played and sang, I don’t think there was a soul in the room who did not know it.”

“Except for Anthony Basingstoke.”

He frowned. “I beg your pardon.”

“It matters not,” she hurried. “I am, of course, sorry, because I think we could have been content. But you are right, and I must admit that I am happy you have said so. I think I would have said it, too. Though most would think me mad.”

The silence that followed was only broken when he pushed back his chair and crossed to her.

Towering over her, he took her hand in his. “We could be content, I agree. But you and I, we both wish for more than pleasantries, I think. After all, this is the only life we have. Should we waste it on what is only enough?”

“No,” she replied softly but with surprising confidence.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “If you ever have need of a friend, do not hesitate to call upon me. You are a wondrous young lady. Do not forget it.”

Tears stung her eyes as she cursed fate. Cursed her feelings, and fought the urge to curse Anthony, too. “I wish things were different.”

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, Lady Evangeline. But I am happy for the time we have shared, little as it is.”

She nodded.

Ellesmere inclined his golden head then left her alone in a room which usually lifted her spirits.

She took out the book Anthony had given her and opened it at random.

“All alone I beweep my outcast state. . .”

Tears stung her eyes now. How had this happened? How had she found herself alone? Stronger, true. But alone.

“Should I offer my congratulations?”

She whipped around to that voice.

Anger sparked in her then. “What the deuces are you doing here?”

He strode further into the library. “I came—”

“Anthony, you cannot do this,” she suddenly proclaimed, unable to take the emotional upheaval. “You cannot reject me at one turn and seek me out in the next moment. I had thought this to be the happiest Christmas I would have known, but for this. For this, I cannot—”

“I haven’t rejected you, Evangeline.”

She blinked. How could he deny it! “You have. You have pushed—”

“I have rejected myself,” he cut in simply.

Her mouth dropped open. “Yourself?”

He nodded. “I have been so afraid of pain. So utterly stupid. Last night, I was discovered leaving your room.”

“My God,” she gasped. “Am I ruined?”

“No,” he assured quickly. “It was the Duke of Hunt. Aston knows. And I was so. . . Well, so happy because I thought that was the end of it all. I would have to marry you.”

She flinched. “That sounds absolutely horrid.”

He smiled wryly. “That’s what they said, too. But, I think I went to your room, desperately hoping to be discovered, no matter what I told myself. For, if I could have you without myself giving in, then at least it wouldn’t have been I who inflicted pain on myself.”

Sadness filled her then. But she had to hear him out. “Is that what our union would be? Pain?”

“My parents loved each other,” he began, his eyes shining. “Deeply. But by the end, watching their fighting, it undid us children. They insulted each other. Used us against each other. Our lives were a storm.”

The raft. The Duchess of Hunt had said he looked upon her as though she was his raft in a storm.

“Every time I pushed you away, it was myself I was punishing,” he gritted, his eyes alight with agony and something else, too. “Unfortunately, I punished you, too.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Yes.”

“But I cannot live afraid,” he continued, his voice gaining strength as he stepped forward again. “Because I am already in pain. In pain at losing you and what we could have. Can I throw that away? The chance? What a mad thing to do. Because I believe that you and I, we are two halves and when together. . .”

“We are whole,” she breathed. “I never knew anyone could feel like that,” she said gently. “I never knew I could feel so intensely for a person in such a short time.”

“What will I do without my other half?” he asked, his voice honest, plaintive. “Suffer. That’s what I will do. What you will do. So, I can either suffer now, or be brave and choose to love you every day. And choose to never let the darkness take over our love.”

“Anthony, we do not ever have to let that darkness in,” she said. The sadness that had taken her was now ebbing away as she realized that he was choosing hope. “We are both strong. And you are too kind to ever be cruel as your parents were. Look how you showed me myself. You showed me what I could be. You knew when I stood before you alone that night that I was more than just a desperate wallflower. And somehow, your knowing allowed me to make it so.”

“And you knew that I was more than a rake,” he added. His gaze lost its agony and filled with something else entirely. “More than a man who lived his life drinking and making merry.”

“We shall still make merry but together, our whole life long. . . That is. . . That is if that is what you are saying.”

Smiling, he knelt before her. “Marry me? Give me a gift this Christmas that we will share forever.”

His words, upon their meeting in another library, many nights ago, echoed through her mind. She had hoped then it would be him.

“Why did you let me meet with Ellesmere?” she asked suddenly.

His brows shot up. “I could not take your choice from you. It’s why no one knows I came from your room last night. I wanted you to have the freedom to choose what you wanted. At first, I longed to allow the circumstances to force our hands. But nothing will be forced between us. Ever.”

“Then yes, I will marry you. Today. Forever.”

He stood and folded her into his arms.

“Say it,” she declared against his chest.

Without instruction, he answered, “I love you, Lady Evangeline Pennyworth. I love you from your sharp mind, to your witty, wicked eyes. I love the way you gave yourself without fear whilst I hovered in the shadows. I love you for giving me all the light I ever needed.”

Resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes, a wave of perfect peace falling over her. “I love you, too. I love your teasing, your strength, your devilish grin, and I love that, despite all the hurt, you never allowed yourself to grow bitter. That you were willing to help me despite the risk.”

“You will always be worth the risk, Evangeline. Always.”

Down the hall, the piano rang out a sprightly carol, and the house was full of children’s voices singing.

She tilted her head back. “Merry Christmas, Anthony.”

“Merry Christmas, Evangeline. Now, let’s go find the bishop.”