The man looked on the point of collapse, bent with his face almost in his knees and panting like a hound. A hatbox tumbled from his grasp and rolled like a lost cart's wheel along the cobblestone walk.
Her eyes must be deceiving her. "Patrick?"
His hat fell off and the top of his head nodded, and he held up one halting finger. Then he looked up and confirmed her guess, grimaced, and doubled over again, heaving for breath.
"Did you run all the way here?" she asked, still not believing he stood before her.
"Mm. Mmhmm. Well, no." More gasping. "Just from Grosvenor Park, when the traffic got too slow."
She winced on his behalf, and then laughed. "All that trouble for my hatbox?"
"No." Patrick straightened now, looking entirely restored, and covered the walk between them by determined strides. He caught her arm, her neck, and drew together their lips with a delicious sweetness that could not have been improved by any scar or eye patch. Her gasp caught in his mouth, and she knocked off his hat in her haste to clutch the crisp hair at his nape. Her knees gave, and she slumped, and only his quick arm spared her from the cobblestones. They exchanged quick, desperate presses and a long slant that made her soul yearn. Only the footman and the driver, clearing their throats out of unison, finally broke the kiss.
Patrick drew his face away, but held her close. "We may not be a perfect joining of two souls, Amelia. In fact, I'm certain we're more a perfect collision, but I'm mad about you. However we fit, I'm not prepared to give it up. I don't have a sword or a -"
She stole his words with a kiss of her own, a quick brush to silence and reassure, her eyes pricked by tears. Whatever they shared was perfect enough. "I wish you had declared all of this yesterday morning," she chided gently, taking his broad hand between her fingers.
He cradled her cheek. "I didn't know the words, until now."
"Oh!" She let him go and clapped her hands together. "How convenient that Mister Edgars is still right here! He could take us straight away to the rail station, and we could be back in -"
Patrick's palm covered her mouth, even when she shook her head, and he laughed. "I won't survive another trip today, Amelia."
She lifted her face above his interference. "But the train is so much easier and more convenient and we wouldn't have to -"
He covered her mouth again and went on chuckling. "Amelia, when is your birthday?"