Chapter 37

37

A month later…

Tricia felt like she was in a hug as she sat next to Thomas at dinner. They'd both recuperated quite nicely and had decided to delay the formal announcement of their engagement until April, when the season began in earnest. Champagne was being served in Thomas's London residence, and when everyone had a flute, Thomas clinked on his to get everyone's attention.

"Lords, ladies, gentlemen," he said. "I'm so happy to announce my betrothal to Lady Patricia-Price Adams."

A collective gasp filled the room, though their engagement at this point was a surprise to no one, followed by murmurs of congratulations and goodwill. Tricia's heart pounded as she turned to Thomas. He smiled at her, his brown eyes sparkling under the soft candlelight.

"Lady Patricia," he declared, looking deeply into her eyes, "I am most honored to have won your hand." He held out his champagne flute and they clinked, a soft tinkling note that echoed throughout the grand dining hall.

The buzz of chatter around them seemed to dissipate as Tricia found herself lost in his gaze. Her mind was whirling with thoughts of wedding gowns, bridal veils, and bouquets.

Her throat was no longer parched from the smoke inhalation, and her neck no longer bruised from Montague's attack. Thomas's wounds and burns had healed, and though there was some scarring, he was good as new.

For a moment, everything seemed perfect. The candlelight cast long, dancing shadows on the ornate walls. The clinking of glasses and the low murmur of conversation filled the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.

The dowager countess, elegant in a flowing gown of emerald silk, rose to toast the newly engaged couple. "May your love be like the evergreens," she began, "lasting through all seasons."

A round of applause followed the countess's toast. Thomas gave Tricia's hand a reassuring squeeze, and she looked up to meet his gaze, radiant with shared joy.

In the flurry of well wishes that followed, Tricia felt as if she were floating. Her mind was a whirlwind of joyous bewilderment. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the dowager countess watching them with interest, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

A servant carried in the first course, an extravagant spread of roasted pheasant and glazed vegetables. The room was filled with the tantalizing aroma as everyone began to eat and converse. Shadows danced around the room as the fire crackled in the corner. The sounds of silver against china, soft laughter, and murmuring voices created an orchestra of contentment. Thomas leaned over to her, his voice a low whisper only she could hear.

"Are you happy, my love?" he asked, his eyes full of concern and hope.

Tricia merely nodded, her eyes welling up as the reality of her situation sank in once again. She was engaged to Thomas.

"Only the happiest I've ever been."