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“As though you do not know,” she said, heading for the door. She could not remain any longer. Helena and Charles would wonder where she was. They were meant to be meeting for dinner by now.

Millie made it into the passage, her eyes on the black and white tile floor.

Wesley reached her swiftly, his long legs eating up the distance between them with haste. He reached for her hand, tugging her back to face him. “On the contrary, I do not know,” he confirmed.

She blinked, aware they were at the end of a very long corridor connecting to both the drawing room and the dining room. If anyone else was late to dinner, she and Wesley would be seen.

Voices echoed through the house, footsteps indicating someone was on their way toward the drawing room.

Wesley pulled her gently into the shadows behind a square column, where they could no longer see or be seen by the people heading to meet for dinner. His hand gripped her arm lightly, and it did not let go. “Please tell me.”

“Wesley,” she said, slightly exasperated. “I have had feelings for you since the first time you helped Nell and I practice our dancing steps.”

“We were…you must have been eight or nine.”

“And you were handsome and older, with the most dashing smile.”

He shook his head. “Those were the passing fancies of a veritable child.”

“They have not passed,” she said softly, afraid her voice would carry. “And I am no longer a child.”

His eyes swept over her, heat blazing in his green irises. “No, you are not.”

“I care for you because of the man you are. Not because you look more handsome than anyone else here. Not because you have unrelenting attention from another woman making me jealous. I care for you, Wesley, because you are steadfast and strong, you are extremely loyal to your family, and you put all your effort into everything you set your mind to.” Millie tugged her arm free and pressed her fingers to her temples, wondering if she had gone mad by admitting the contents of her heart so freely. “Look at this house party as a perfect example. I told you of my secret suitor, and you threw yourself into assisting me entirely at the expense of enjoying your Christmas—at the expense of doing your duty to Nell.”

“I have enjoyed Christmas, Mildred,” he said. “Though I could have watched over my sister more closely.”

“You also have no notion if the things you have felt can withstand the test of time. When I told you I want to find someone devoted to me, who loves me deeply, I meant it. I want a relationship like my parents have, like Charles and Helena share. They are meant to be my chaperones, but Charles cannot leave his wife’s side because of how ill she feels. I want someone who cares for me so much, nothing else matters.” Millie closed her eyes, afraid her desires sounded selfish. “I also want to feel that way about someone. I would like to marry my dearest friend.”

“You know I am in agreement,” he said slowly. “You know I care for you. Why are you resisting?”

“Because you might not mean it two weeks from now. I have an opportunity here to find a real potential husband.”

“I strongly dislike like the idea of you looking at anyone as a potential husband except me.”

“Why, though?”

“Have we not discussed this?”

She could not force him to see that she needed to feel as though he knew her. As though she was unique and not just a familiar, safe woman whom he counted as a friend.

“Millie,” he said softly, his hands cupping her face. “I am falling for you. I think about you constantly, I look to you first when a joke is shared to see your laugh, and I cannot fathom the idea of you accepting another man’s offer of marriage. You are steadfast and loyal, you care so deeply for those you love, and I think you would make such a good mother to our children it would not matter that I am so stiff. Your vibrancy balances my seriousness.”

“I would not call you overly serious.”

“Because you know me so well.”

She had to concede that he had made a fair argument. Each new thing he said, the way he looked into her eyes, was utterly unravelling her. She was a tapestry slowly being turned to string.

“What of the man writing the letters to me?”

“You will learn his identity so you can politely inform him you are courting another man.”

“We are courting now, are we?” she asked.

Wesley stepped closer until his body pressed against hers. “I would like that to be the case.”

Millie lost the ability to breathe. She had no notion what the time was or where she was meant to be, and she did not care. Wesley’s pine scent had fully enveloped her. His green eyes locked on her face without movement. When his gaze dropped to her lips, her breath caught.