“If I catch my death from this, it shall have been worth it for a small adventure with you.” Caroline assured him with a quirk of her lips. She hardly doubted that she should die simply because of an ill timed rain storm over a picnic. She’d been through worse just on her passage over, to let such a thing worry her. But his worry, she could see it there in his eyes, was a testament to his feelings for her and that was certainly not a thing to be easily dismissed.

Evander’s hand was warm against her own (her gloves had been abandoned in pursuit of scones sometime earlier) as he pushed away her ministrations. His other hand reached toward her and Caroline leaned in. She could feel his very presence, her body tingling and drawing her closer as their eyes met and his face came toward her. With a tilt of her head and a slight tip of her toes Caroline’s lips met his own. No longer could she feel the cold of the rain around them, Evander’s warmth wrapped around her a hearth warmed blanket.

When at last the kiss ended (as all good kisses go she felt it had ended much too soon) Caroline’s green eyes met his gaze, a smile on her lips, she found she wasn’t quite sure what it was she wanted to say that might explain her feelings. A part of her worry that if she did say anything at all Mr. Darrow might retreat, leaving her feeling foolish for having said anything to ruin this moment in the first place.