Delaney looked down at the polished wooden box he was carrying carefully in his left hand. She had been incredibly curious about it since he first walked into the drawing room.

"You have been carrying that box very carefully," Delaney pointed out, her hazel eyes filled with curiosity. She looked back up at his face. "What is in the box, Rowan?"

Rowan stopped walking.

He turned to face her fully on the gravel path. He looked around the quiet garden to ensure no servants were nearby. Then, he looked toward the large stone balcony of the manor. Aunt Renee was sitting in her wicker chair, sipping her tea, watching them from a distance. She was too far away to hear their quiet conversation.

"I brought you a gift," Rowan said softly.

He held the polished wooden box out in front of him. He reached out with his right hand and gently flipped the small brass latch. With a quiet click, he opened the wooden lid.

Delaney stepped a little closer to look inside.

Resting on a bed of dark blue velvet was not a delicate necklace or a pair of pearl earrings. It was a weapon.

It was a beautiful, custom-made dueling pistol. The barrel was made of shining, polished silver. The handle was carved from smooth, dark wood, designed to perfectly fit a woman’s smaller hand. And right along the side of the silver barrel, carved in elegant, flowing letters, was her own name: Delaney Kingsley.

Delaney gasped softly. Her eyes widened in pure, stunning surprise.

"Rowan," she breathed, completely amazed by the beautiful, dangerous object.

Rowan watched her face carefully, making sure she was pleased.

"I know you like shooting," Rowan explained in a quiet, deeply respectful tone. "I remember how you bested me at the shooting game back at your estate . And I remember how you had taken a fancy to my other silver pistol. So, I went to the finest gunsmith in London and I made you this."

He took a small step closer to her. He leaned his tall frame down slightly, bringing his face very close to hers. He lowered his voice into a soft, intimate whisper that only she could hear.

"That was why I was late this morning," Rowan whispered directly into her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. "The silver engraver took a little longer than expected to finish your name. I am so sorry for keeping you waiting and making you worry."

Delaney shook her head quickly. "You do not need to apologize. It is completely beautiful."

Rowan pulled his head back just an inch so he could look into her eyes. His expression was incredibly serious and filled with devotion.

"When we get married," Rowan promised her softly, his brown eyes burning with intense affection. "I will get a custom made proper hunting rifle for you. And I will prepare a beautiful, private hunting ground on my estate, just for you alone. You will never have to hide to do what you love, and you will always have a place to ride and shoot exactly as you please."

Delaney felt a massive wave of overwhelming love crash against her heart. He did not want to turn her into a quiet, boring society wife. He knew her spirit. He knew she needed to feel strong and capable. He embraced every single part of her.

Delaney smiled, but a small pang of guilt suddenly hit her chest. She looked down at the expensive, custom-made pistol.

"All these beautiful gifts," Delaney said softly, looking up at him with a slightly sad expression. "You bought me a mountain of silk dresses, you brought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and now this perfect pistol. And I did not even bring you one single gift."

Rowan’s face softened completely. He closed the wooden box with a gentle snap. He did not care about gifts or objects. He was one of the wealthiest men in England; he could buy anything he wanted. There was only one thing he truly desired, one thing he could never afford even with all of his wealth: Her Heart.

"Delaney, please," Rowan spoke, his deep voice thick with raw, honest emotion. "Loving me wholeheartedly could not possibly compare to all of these simple objects."

He looked directly into her hazel eyes, letting her see the complete truth in his soul.

"Wanting to be my wife," Rowan said softly, "and answering my name at the altar... that is the greatest, most perfect gift I could ever receive in my entire life."

Delaney’s breath hitched in her throat. Her heart hammered a frantic, joyful rhythm against her ribs. The way he looked at her made her knees feel completely weak. The proper rules of society suddenly felt incredibly silly and deeply frustrating.

Delaney smiled. It was a warm, slightly wicked smile.

"I could just kiss you right now," Delaney whispered truthfully, her hazel eyes dropping down to look at his lips.

Rowan inhaled a sharp, sudden breath. The muscle in his jaw ticked tightly as he fought a massive, immediate wave of desire. He wanted exactly the same thing.

"Do not tempt me with a good time, Delaney," Rowan replied, his voice dropping into a low, rough, dangerous rumble.

He forced himself to look away from her tempting mouth. He glanced back at the grand stone balcony of the manor.

"Your aunt is watching us," Rowan pointed out with a heavy sigh. He saw Aunt Renee sitting perfectly straight in her chair, sipping her tea, and watching them like a hungry hawk. "If I kiss you right here in the middle of the gravel path, she will likely run down the stairs and hit me with a stick."

Delaney let out a soft laugh. She looked around the quiet, vast garden. Her eyes scanned the tall, thick green hedges and the large stone statues scattered across the lawn.

Aunt Renee went back into the house to arrange her bouquet of flowers in a vase of water so that they don’t begin to wilt.

A clever, mischievous light sparked in Delaney’s eyes as she noticed her aunt’s absence. She knew every single corner of this garden from her childhood.

"I know a blind spot," Delaney whispered softly, stepping just an inch closer to him.

Rowan raised a curious eyebrow. "A blind spot?"

"Yes," Delaney nodded quickly. "It is an old stone alcove hidden behind the tall rose hedges over there. It will completely block my aunt’s view from the balcony. It will give us exactly two minutes of perfect privacy."

Rowan looked around the garden, his protective instincts flaring. "What about the gardeners? The maids?"

Delaney smiled proudly. "The servants will not see us. I gave Mr. Benry strict orders this morning. Everyone is entirely banned from entering the back garden to disturb our stroll. We are completely alone out here."

Rowan’s eyes darkened instantly with sudden, intense heat. He did not need to be asked twice. He held the wooden box tightly in his left hand.

"Lead the way, my lady," Rowan smiled, a purely wicked, eager expression crossing his face.

Delaney turned quickly. She stepped off the main, open gravel path. She walked gracefully across the soft green grass, leading him toward a tall, thick wall of dark green hedges.

Rowan followed closely behind her, his long legs easily keeping up with her quick pace.

They slipped around the corner of the tall hedge.

Hidden completely from the main house was a small, curved stone alcove. It had a simple stone bench, and the tall hedges wrapped around it on three sides. It was entirely private. Aunt Renee could not see them, and the servants were far away.

Delaney stepped into the center of the alcove. She turned around quickly, her hazel eyes searching the surrounding area just to be absolutely sure they were truly alone.

"See?" Delaney whispered, looking back at the thick green leaves. "Completely hidden. No one can—"

She never got to finish her sentence.