The Earl raised his head and looked down at her eyes shining as if they were stars.
“I love you – Oh, Lord Jupiter – I love – you,” she whispered brokenly and hid her face against his shoulder.
He kissed her hair.
“Come, darling.”
She felt him take his arms from her and looked up in surprise.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a secret, I want you to trust me.”
“You know – I do.”
“You are so lovely, so perfect,” he murmured and his voice was hoarse.
Then, with an obvious effort, he took her hand and, drawing her along beside him, he turned towards the door.
The Great Hall was still empty and, although Syringa wondered at the lack of attentive footmen, she had not time to mention it.
The Earl led her through the sunlit door.
Standing below the steps was a familiar figure.
It was Mercu
