Georgiana had imagined herself tangled in deep affection — in devotion, even. She had dreamt of love and romance, lived it through the pages of books for most of her life — deep sighs following each heartfelt declaration exchanged between fictional lovers. But nothing, and no one, had ever touched her soul the way Teddy did. He didn’t simply love her — he saw her. Not as a prize to be claimed for her beauty, nor as a lady of noble birth worth pursuing for advantage — but as a woman with dreams and fears, with a vivid mind just as full as her heart. Loving him felt like returning home after a lifetime adrift — as though she had stumbled upon a place she had never known she was searching for.
One moment she was blinking through tears, giving the yes she had been longing to say, and the next she was soaring — lifted straight from the ground and spun into the moonlit sky. She gasped his name in surprise, hands flying instinctively to his shoulders — anchoring herself, though she felt anything but safe or steady. Laughter spilled from her, her head tilting back in unrestrained delight. The rest of the world had long faded. All she could feel was him — the warmth of his hands at her waist, the strength of his arms around her, and the lingering taste of his kiss upon her lips. And more than anything, the certainty that she was precisely where she was meant to be — with the one she loved, her heart’s desire.
When he set her down, it felt like her knees might give out — but there was a new strength holding her up. Perhaps it was the sight of him. That smile, the one that had undone her from the beginning. Those dimples. The warmth in his eyes. Her chest swelled, heart still leaping. He was hers. He wanted to be hers — and heavens above, she was already his in every possible way.
As he held up the ring, tears welled once more and her breath caught in her throat. She had no words. At his gentle ‘May I?’ she could only nod, eager. She watched as it slipped onto her finger — glinting, flawless, a perfect fit. A promise, a vow made tangible. She would have cherished anything he gave her. But the delicate shape and shimmer of it were so unmistakably her that she could only wonder how he always seemed to know. How could he glimpse so clearly into her heart, sense her wishes, and shape dreams into reality? “Oh…” Her free hand rose to cradle the one he had adorned, admiring it. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” A trembling breath followed, her heart so full it ached. “Thank you.”
Without a second thought, Georgiana stepped forward, melting against his chest, arms wrapping around his back, cheek nestled close as she breathed him in. He was taller, broader — and yet she fit into his embrace exquisitely. It felt as though that space had always belonged to her. And then, as her hands traced the fabric of his coat, it struck — a ghost of sorrow, sudden and sharp. A quiet shadow, a memory of joy once stolen from her. What if it happened again? For fleeting seconds, fear grazed the edges of happiness. Fear that he might vanish. That life might yet twist cruelly and take him from her. That fate might deem her undeserving of her luck, of all this vast love.
So she clung tighter, squeezing. Her fingers sought hold, gripped, reached — eyes squeezed shut at the threat of tears born not of joy, but of ache. A silent plea hid within that embrace — Please stay. Please, let this last forever. “How can someone love this much…” She whispered, her voice muffled, cracked by the weight of all she felt and could barely contain. But she did. She wouldn’t ruin it. This was a moment for love, and love alone.
And when at last she dared to lift her gaze, the eyes that met hers were enough to summon back her smile — cheeks still flushed, heart still racing. “I cannot wait to be your wife.” She murmured, pulling back, one hand rising to rest above his heart. “Georgiana Alwyn…” She let the name roll softly from her lips, as though testing a familiar melody — a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him. The extraordinary man who had swept her off her feet, and who had never once asked her to be anything less than wholly, wonderfully herself. How could she be so fortunate? “It does sound perfect, does it not?”
