”A short trip, don’t fret,“ he said, smiling down at her as they rounded the corner into the small maze that made up the garden. They were not completely obscured from outside view, with the little gaps in the bushes and the holes in the fencing where some of the flowers had weaved their branches around, but someone would need to be actively looking for them to be seeen and—well, he wasn’t intending to ravish her amongst the roses. (Although the idea did have its appeal.)

Once they reached a point where he was certain they could not be seen, he turned towards her and took a step closer. He didn’t dare touch her—not yet, and not without indication that she was willing to be touched in public—but they were so close, and he swore he could smell her perfume despite the aroma of roses that filled the air.

He reached behind her and plucked one of the roses off the bush behind her. His smile widened as he held it out to her, mentally patting himself on the back for being so romantic. Girls liked those gestures—that’s what everyone said.

“I’ve missed seeing you,” he said smoothly, “Somehow you get prettier each time.” And really, wasn’t she? He supposed that’s why parents did not yank their daughters from school to debut so early—they didn’t reach their peak until their schooling was almost over. Or maybe she hadn’t changed at all, and maybe he’d just been limited to the memory of her for too long. Either way, she was better than he’d remembered.

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