your massive list of accomplishments.”
Taking his hand in hers, Felicity drew as close as she dared (she could not trust herself any farther while her irritated heart was begging her to kiss him), and the world faded from her view as she held his gaze in hers, willing him to trust her words.
“I understand you may not be ready to embrace our feelings all at once,” she whispered, “but can we not welcome the possibility and see where it leads? If we discover we do not suit, then I can accept that, but it seems foolish not to—”
Mr. Finch’s arms came around her, pulling her tight in a sudden movement that had her squeaking. And then his lips came to hers, and Felicity was lost in his touch. Whatever sentiments she’d felt in the past for other men, they were pale constructs of what a foolish young girl thought how love was supposed to feel. This was not heady attraction or the thrill of being adored. It was as though her world had been washed in grey and that veil lifted to show her a whole new spectrum of light and color.
*
Logic and rational thought had no place during a kiss, which was a good thing, for Finch was tired of holding firm to what he ought to do. Now was the time to embrace that which he longed to do. Perhaps a better man might hold himself aloof and free Miss Barrows to find someone else, but Finch was too selfish a creature to let her go now. A man would have to be much stronger than he to turn away from such tender petitions.
And now, he was fully ensnared by her. Her touch wove a spell around his heart, binding it tighter to hers, and Finch couldn’t say he was unhappy about it. Still, he didn’t understand why Miss Barrows loved him so, but he would be a fool to turn that bright, joyful heart of hers away.
A sliver of decency worked its way through the fog, and Finch slowed the kiss, knowing that though he did not wish to end it, this was only the first of many to come. Holding her flush to him, Finch gazed into her eyes, which were as dazed as his own.
“Does that mean you are willing to see reason?” she said in a breathy tone.
“It means I am tired of fighting you. I still believe you could do far better than me,” he murmured with a self-deprecating smile, and she pressed her fingers to his lips, holding back his protests.
“I believe enough for the both of us,” she whispered. “That will do for now.”
That sliver of hope buried deeper into his heart and whispered that maybe—just maybe—Miss Barrows might be right. And with her so close, Finch lost himself in her embrace and the bright future she painted.
A life together. He and his Sunshine.
Epilogue
Sussex
Five Months Later
It had been many years since Finch passed an autumn at Dewbourne, yet the view from his father’s study was exactly as he remembered it. The leaves were shifting from greens to yellows and reds, looking as vibrant and colorful as a sunset, and Finch smelled the subtle scent that signaled the coming of winter.
Standing at the window, Finch gazed at the scenery and was struck by an odd sensation: peace. Not that the sentiment itself was unusual, but feeling tranquil while standing in a room that held far too many unpleasant memories was surprising. And welcome.
Father came to his side and placed a hand on Finch’s shoulder. “I am proud of you, son.”
Finch might’ve smiled at that, except he knew the source of that pride.
“You will be master of your own estate and investments,” he said with a half-smile and shake of his head. That grin grew and he squeezed his son’s shoulder before returning to his seat. “I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
Yet even with that rather irritating assessment, Finch’s good mood did not diminish, for his heart was aglow with the promise of his impending nuptials.
Of course, Finch wished he’d earned his father’s approval on his own merit (he supposed a part of him always would), but he felt no need to defend his worth to his father. Finch poured out his heart in gratitude that his path had intersected with Felicity’s, for he knew full well that the whole of his present joy and peace was due to his Sunshine.
“It is a shame that Miss Barrows’ pedigree doesn’t boast more—”
“Father,” said Finch