“Nonsense,” she scoffed.

Nick hesitated, staring at the back of her neck. He brushed his hand against her nape and pressed his mouth to her ear. “It’s the truth.”

She stiffened in his arms and turned in the saddle to stare at him, saying in the barest of whispers, “Nick?”

His hand caressed her cheek. “I love you, Meredith. I’ve known it a long time. Stupid fool that I am, it only took me this long to accept it.”

A strangled sob tore from her throat as she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him in plain sight of everyone. So much for a private audience.

When they came up for air, Nick brushed his thumb against her mouth. “Let’s go work on filling that nursery you’ve had your heart set on.”

She smiled wide, her face glowing as she replied, “We’ve already begun to accomplish that, my lord.”

His heart stopped and he heard himself choke, “You don’t mean—”

“Yes,” she replied, looking uncertain as she studied him. “You are pleased?”

“Meredith,” he sighed, cupping her face gently in both hands. “I don’t think my heart could be any fuller.” Gazing into the lush green pools of her eyes, he felt himself drowning… with happiness. “I love you.”

She clutched his neck tighter and whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

The sound of clapping distracted them, and they pulled apart to observe Aunt Eleanor clapping madly, her turban in danger of sliding off her head as she nudged the two ladies beside her to join in. The two women obliged, and soon the entire churchyard was filled with applause. Nick doubted everyone knew the exact reason for their applause aside from the fact that Lord and Lady Brookshire were engaging in a most unseemly display in the Attingham churchyard.

But he knew the reason.

He was home.