She nodded, looked down, and then shook her head. When she lifted her chin, her cheeks were ashen. Thomas stepped forward, ready to sweep her into his arms, when a group of overindulgent young men rounded the street corner. Thomas took Mary’s elbow and led her away from the commotion.

They strolled along a row of brownstones with scrubbed iron gates and trimmed potted ferns posed on small front porches. Reminders of the horses were cleaned so the couple could smell the elm trees mixed with bread from an open kitchen window.

When Thomas spotted a community courtyard, he led Mary across the street. The gate was unlocked, so he pushed it open for her. Before she stepped through, she checked the street for observers.

Thick evergreen shrubs that had grown up the full height of the tall iron fence surrounded the courtyard. Golden light from the gas lamps gave only a muted glow, but Thomas could see a small rectangular yard with a lone elm surrounded by a patch of grass, a gravel path, and a small stone bench. He closed the gate with a heavy clang then heard Mary whisper his name.

“There’s no one here to gossip about us,” he assured her.

As she removed her bonnet, she turned and looked him in the eye. “Who said I was worried about gossip? Perhaps I find you too forward for a man on his way out of town.”

“Perhaps, but I didn’t push you through the gate. I certainly didn’t hear any desire for a chaperone.”

She stiffened and seemed ready to reply when Thomas wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her toward him. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her skin was warm and soft, and as he caressed her face she tilted her head and closed her eyes.

“Thomas,” she whispered

He kissed her cheek then let his lips slide down to kiss her neck. She smelled of lilac perfume and smoked meat from the restaurant. He tightened his grip on her waist, feeling the rigid corset and stiff crinoline pressed against her soft shape.

“Thomas, we shouldn’t—”

He covered her lips and kissed her. She hesitated, and then they kissed as lovers in the shadowed light.

Mary broke their union and moved a few steps away. “I’m not sure even my sister would approve of this.” She took a few quick breaths and sat on the corner of the stone bench.

Thomas paused, unsure what to say, until Mary turned into the light and he saw her teasing grin. He wanted to rush to her side and kiss her again.

“What time does your train leave in the morning?” Mary asked as Thomas sat down beside her.

“Too early for gentlemen, but I’ll be ready by eight,” he said.

“You’ll be ready by seven so you have plenty of time to say goodbye to your cousin Penelope. You’ll miss her.”

“That’s not all I’ll miss,” Thomas said. He wanted to say more, but his pending departure hung like a brittle branch.

Mary faced Thomas and tightened her jaw. “So what happens now, once you…?” She turned away and pulled a handkerchief from her purse.

“Leave?” Thomas put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him away.

“I don’t want to need you, Thomas Gadwell, and here I am blubbering over a man who actually believes Reverend Beecher was innocent of the adultery charges.”

Thomas chuckled. “Is that the best you have?”

Mary caught her breath. “For now.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She patted her eyes with her cloth. “That’s hardly the point. Thomas, these past weeks have been unlike any time in my life. I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but what will I do without you? I know that sounds ridiculous. I’m just going to miss you more than I know how to put into words.”

“Darling, I promise we’ll be together again soon. Your father just needs to give me a chance. It’s strange; most people have to know me better before they object to my liberal politics and boyish charm.”

“I can believe that.” She smirked then shook her head. “It’s really unlike my father to act secretive and so blame …” She slapped her hand over her mouth.

Thomas laughed at her wide eyes. “You won’t go to hell for saying ‘blame.’ ”

“Or for sitting alone in a dark courtyard with a handsome man?”

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think you missed my point,” she said.

“So you say.”

“I say,” Mary snickered. “You really are silly sometimes.”

“True. And you really are the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. I’m in love with you, Mary Harting, completely in love with you.”

Her laughter stopped, and Thomas swallowed against a lump in his throat. Though he had written it many times, hearing the words aloud made it more real. His voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else—someone cleverer and deserving of loving such a woman.

She was silent, and he worried she did not want his declarations of love. He was leaving, putting down his sword and walking away. She had asked him to, but he wondered if it was too late to stay and fight. Thomas was ready to suggest just that, when Mary lifted her head. Fresh tears streamed down her face.

“I love you too, Thomas. I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone.”

She collapsed into his arms, and he felt her silent sobs against his chest.

“Everything will be all right. I promise.”

Her tears turned to deep shuddered breaths, and when she lifted her head, Mary stared at him for a few moments. “You know your mother’s right. You do have the mischievous eyes of an attorney.”

“And what do you know about lawyers? Should I worry?”

She shook her head. “The only lawyers I know are old men with sagging bellies.”

“Not handsome like me.”

Mary tilted her head. “Who said you were handsome?”

He moved closer. “I believe a certain young lady mentioned my fine looks not minutes ago.”

“Well, now you’re just bragging,” she said.

“Am I? So if I kissed you right now you wouldn’t fall under the influence of my gifted appearance?” He leaned toward her, “And my wild charms?”

“Now I’m certain there was no mention of wild charms.”

“Poetic license,” he whispered.

They embraced in the quiet courtyard until Thomas noted the late hour. While Thomas checked the street, Mary replaced loose hairs that had escaped her chignon and put on her bonnet.