The ball continued on until the very early hours of the morning, and it was not until the first hints of dawn appeared on the horizon that the guests had all filtered out into the night, returning to their carriages and onto their own homes.

The manor was quiet the next morning.

Lord Bridgewater found himself sitting out on the terrace, a steaming hot cup of tea on the table beside him and a book in his hands. He was not reading it, of course, for his mind would not allow him to be swept into stories, no matter how tantalizing. No, his mind could think of only Lady Agnes, and when he might see her that morning.

They had indeed spent much of the rest of the night dancing, for John felt it was his duty to ensure that she did not have the chance to be swept away by some other man. By the end of the night, he was sure that she was at least happier with him than she had been standing out in the hall before the ball had begun. That thought had given him great comfort.

Still, after everything that had happened between them, or the lack thereof, he knew that a conversation of some sort had to occur. He was glad, over and over, that he had changed his mind. Only the good Lord could have done such a thing, and he had spent much of the morning in prayer because of it. The relief was almost intoxicating, even then.

But he was no fool; one night of fun was not enough to repair what had happened up until that point, and he knew that he had to make it right.

His father had been right, after all, and it was his duty to fix it. He knew that he had been a stubborn man, and more than anything, desperate, and that was why he had not wanted to believe that he had been the one to blame.

Sleep had not found him, so he had risen earlier than everyone else in the house and managed to remain left alone for much of the morning. It was not until the heat of the day had started to shine on him that he heard the door to the terrace open, and footsteps wander outside.

He glanced over his shoulder and nearly dropped his cup when he saw Lady Agnes walking toward him.

She hesitated, her eyes finding his, and stood still. He rose to his feet, setting his cup down on the table, closing his books in his hands. They simply stood there and stared at one another. How often had this happened between them, and how many more times would it occur?

He felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “Good morning, Lady Agnes,” he said, softly.

Her eyes were wide, but she was not smiling.

He did not let it bother him, however. He looked over his shoulder. “Am I correct in assuming that you did not intend to be disturbed out here?”

She took a few slow steps toward him. “I did not think anyone would be awake yet,” she replied in an equally low voice.

He nodded. “I did not sleep last night, so I have been down here for some time.”

“Nor did I,” she replied, and he found that he was surprised by this and also somewhat pleased. Perhaps she had been awake for the same reasons as he had been.

“Lady Agnes,” he began.

There was never a better time to have the conversation he knew had to happen than at that exact moment. They were not likely to be interrupted, and with everything fresh in his mind, he knew that he had the strength and courage to now.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to the chair he had just vacated. “Please, come sit down. I think it is time that we had a talk.”

She looked between him and the seat before obliging, and she seated herself just as he sat in the chair on the opposite side of the table.

Silence fell over them again, and yet, he did not feel uncomfortable. He looked out into the gardens. “Isn’t it just beautiful this time of day?” he asked. “Look over there, did you see the sparrow seated there on that branch? They simply love this side of the manor. My mother insisted that her favorite chair face this window so she could sit in the study and watch the sparrows in comfort.”

He looked over at her and saw her watching him. She looked away as he looked at her, and he sighed.

“I assume you are not much interested in birds at the moment, are you?” he asked. He took a deep breath. “Very well. What I would like to discuss is…” as he began, he realized how difficult it was turning out to be. “I would like to discuss…our relationship.”

She simply stared at him, and he could see no joy, but also no resentment in her face. When she did not reply in any way, he pressed on.

“First of all, I…” He did not know what exactly to say. There was much on his mind, but putting it into a coherent string of thoughts was not as easy as he had hoped it would be. He just wanted her to see that he wanted to make this marriage work, that he was dedicated to it. Dedicated to her. But how did he say it?

She patiently waited for him to continue.

“I must apologize,” he said, finally, and he was not sure what had caused him to start with this point. Perhaps the guilt he had carried for so long was just too much, and he wished to free himself from it just as he had his decision the night before. “For being a complete and utter fool.”

She seemed taken aback, and her brow furrowed.

Before she could speak, he went on. “Ever since I met you, I have had an incredibly difficult time communicating with you. I have been unable to relax, engage in substantial conversation, or even remain in the same room as you. And every time I would attempt to remedy it, I found that it only became worse.”

He searched her face for some sort of understanding, but she kept her face as plain and unchanging as possible. She simply watched him.

He licked his lips and continued to pry open his own chest and expose his thoughts to her. “And I must admit, I found it infuriating because it was the first time in my life that I have ever had a difficult time speaking with a woman. It has always come easy to me because I believed that I had figured women out. All of them.”

The words came easy now. “But you…you were not like all of those women. They were all mysterious and vague, and socializing with them was…almost like a game. It was easy. And then I met you, and you were so much different, so much so that I found myself entirely unable to act like a decent human being.” He laughed a hollow laugh at his own words. “It sounds ridiculous, I know, but Lady Agnes…” he turned himself to face her, and gazed into her eyes. “You are such a gentle soul, so kind and compassionate. And more than all of that, you are genuine. And…” he looked down at his hands that were clasped tightly together in his lap, “I think that you intimidated me. It caused me so much internal strife that I withdrew like the idiot that I am, and instead of pursuing you the way that I should have, I became caught up in my own shortcomings.”

He wanted more than anything to reach across the distance between them and take her hand in his, but he was not sure if it would be received well, so he refrained. “So, for all of that, and for my inability to be the man that I should have been all along, as well as be the man that you deserve, I hope you will accept my deepest apologies.”

For the first time since she sat down, she looked out over the wall and into the gardens. The sound of the birds’ songs filled the space between them, and for a moment, it felt peaceful. He watched her as she sat still and quiet. He could see that she was thinking, and he did not wish to rush her in any way. He felt much better now that he had been able to explain some of the things he was feeling. He felt as if he was off to a very good start, and he felt confident that all of this was going to work out just fine.

She sighed, and he looked at her.

She turned her eyes back onto him, and he was incredibly surprised. “I must admit, Lord Bridgewater, that this was not at all what I was expecting you to say, when we finally sat down and talked.”

“So you expected that we would be having this conversation as well?” John asked, unable to contain himself. The curiosity was welling up inside of him, and he felt as if he would drop all pretenses in order to reach the truth.

She nodded her head very slowly.

“I did as well. I just knew that we had to sit down and talk, that all of these moments we have shared and not spoken had to come to this.”

She nodded again.

“Why did what I say surprise you?” he asked, a surge of nervousness and excitement coursing through him.

The corners of her mouth pulled up and she laughed a small laugh. She turned her eyes on him, and he saw in them, for the first time since she had arrived, an overflowing joy and anticipation. Her walls had come down, and somehow, everything that had been spoken between them in those last few moments was of more value than anything that had been said before.

“Lord Bridgewater, I have believed you to be utterly indifferent to me.”

He sighed and looked down at his hands. “I was told that repeatedly, by several members of my family.”

“No, I do not mean it in the way that you must assume I mean.” A wry smile appeared on her face. “No, I should not say it.”

“What is it?” he asked, leaning closer to her.

“No, I shouldn’t,” she repeated.

“I do not wish for you to hide anything from me, please,” he said very plainly, hoping she would believe him and understand. “There is nothing that you could say that would make me upset. I promise.”

Her hesitation was plain, but she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Well, Lord Bridgewater, I felt that you were indifferent toward me…because I was not deserving of you.”

That was not what he had been expecting, and he sat back in his seat.

“I felt unworthy, and it made me very sad. All I wanted to do was to make you happy, and every time that we had any sort of interaction, I felt as if I could not. So, eventually, I just…simply stopped trying.”

He sighed heavily and could not bring himself to meet her eye. How could he have been so foolish as to come across in such a pompous manner? What had he done to make her question him so much? What a poor first impression he had made.

“Lady Agnes, I am…I am terribly, terribly sorry. I never thought that, not once.”

He heard her shift in her seat, but still could not look up.

“I do believe that,” she replied. “Honestly, up until last night, I assumed that you were going to…” she sighed, and forced herself to continue. “I assumed that you were going to break off the engagement.”

He froze, so she had been thinking it too.

“I will not lie to you,” he began. “I did consider ending it. I only wish to be honest with you.” He looked up at her face and saw that his words had hurt her. He held up his hands. “But please do not think I considered it because of me or what I felt was right. No, I believed that you deserved someone who would actually be able to speak to you and connect with you. I felt like a fish out of water around you, and what sort of husband would that make me? A very poor one.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I could not even bring you tea properly.”

He heard her laugh.

“I thought that was a very kind gesture,” she said, in a small voice. “I did wonder if perhaps someone insist that you do that in order to keep up appearances and had convinced myself of it when you left that night. I felt as if you just simply did not want to be in the room with me.”

“There is nothing further from the truth,” John said, shaking his head back and forth fervently. “Nothing at all. My sister suggested it when I expressed my concern for you, wishing there was something that I could do for you. I hoped that it would be a chance for me to show you how much I care about you. Apparently, I failed as miserably as I thought I had.”

“I do not think you failed, but it gives me comfort to know the truth.”

Silence once more fell around them, and John felt a question hanging in the air between them. He knew that there was much to discuss between them, but there was one that they could not escape if they wished to continue any further down this path.

“Is that…what you want? To end the engagement?” He asked, knowing that she would not voice it herself.

She looked over at him. “Do you?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. I never did.”

“You told me that you did consider it at one point,” she replied, as calm as he had ever seen her.

“I felt as if there was no choice,” he replied. “However, I see that that isn’t the truth.” He looked intently at her. “And I realized that we did have a choice last night at the ball. That was when I changed my mind.”

“What changed your mind about ending the engagement?” she asked.

He smiled foolishly. “The honest and simple answer is that I saw you with another man, and my heart could not stand it.”

Her eyes widened.

“Jealousy was not something I ever thought I would struggle with, but when I saw you dancing with Lord Yorbourgh, I felt as if you were slipping through my fingers and…” he looked down, nervous about what he was going to say next, “I was terrified that I was going to lose you. The reality was far too painful for me to consider, and I decided right then and there that I would fix all of this and that if I cared for you so much that I reacted so strongly, then this marriage is worth fighting for, and I will make myself worthy of you.”

She studied his face for a long moment, as if searching for the truth that he hoped was obviously written there.

He swallowed hard. “But, Lady Agnes, you have not answered me yet.”

“Answered you what?” she replied.

His gaze settled on her. “Whether or not you wish to end the engagement.”

It was the first time during their conversation that he had been nervous, truly nervous, about the outcome. Everything was in her hands now, and he was not sure that he was safe.

She sighed, looking down at her hands.

Here is the truth, he thought sadly. She does not feel the same way that I do. How in the world am I going to explain this to my parents?

“Hearing how you feel about it has come as quite a shock, my lord,” she began slowly.

Even as he listened to her, he longed for her to tell him quickly, so he could be sure. The anticipation alone was enough to drive a man crazy.

“And I shall not lie to you and tell you that I feel the very same way, for I have done much to protect my heart over the last few weeks. I have guarded myself, wondering if perhaps there was little hope of there being a wedding at all.”

“I see,” John began, the weight settling on his shoulders heavier than he thought he could bear.

He felt her warm hand close over his own. Startled, he looked up at her.

“I believe you are a kind man, Lord Bridgewater. And I think that you have been very honest with me today about everything that has transpired between us. I hope that you know that I have not been angry, and that I believe I understand why you acted the way you had. I…” she looked around.

“Yes?” he asked, when he was not able to handle the hesitation in her voice. “What is your choice? I leave it up to you now.”

She looked at him. “This is what you want, then? To marry me?”

He felt his affections growing for her, despite the fact that she had the power to crush them. “It is what I want more than anything.”

Her eyes softened and her demeanor changed. “I can see that you tell the truth. And that I have been wrong about you all along. I am glad for it.”

He was nearly out of his mind with fear. Come now, good Lady! Just tell me your decision already!

She nodded her head, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, Lord Bridgewater, it is what I want as well.”

The fear disappeared, and a dizzying joy overtook him. He immediately rushed over to her and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in front of him.

She laughed, the tears shining on her cheeks, but she allowed him to take her hands all the same.

“I will be honest and say that I would have given you a much different answer this morning had you asked me, had you not explained all of this to me,” she said, smiling down at him. “Oh, what a sad thing that would have been. The Lord is good and allowed us to speak so honestly with one another.”

John felt a laugh escape him, and he nodded. “He is indeed good. I would have said no yesterday evening myself.” He shook his head. “How foolish I was.”

“How foolish we were,” she said.

He made to protest, but she shook her head.

“It is true,” she said. “We could have missed out on a marriage that I believe will be a wonderful one simply because we allowed our own assumptions of each other to predominate the truth. Had we simply faced one another instead of our own thoughts, perhaps it would not have been so trying for us.”

John sighed happily. “My lady, no truer words have been spoken.”

He rose to his feet and pulled her to her feet as well.

“Perhaps we should inform our families that there is to be a wedding after all, since I believe most of them will be doubting it.”

“I think that is a wonderful idea.”