“You’re going to have to marry me, you know. I’m through letting you make decisions related to our mutual happiness because when you do, I am only left sad, and you are left . . .” She tossed aside the fourth. Moved to the fifth. “Well . . . locked inside ice dungeons. I assume this is the work of my former fiancé?”

A pause, while she discarded the fifth lock and set her picks to the last. “Just one more, Devon. Hold on. Please. I’m coming.”

Click.

She flung the lock away and threw the heavy latch at the bottom of the door, pulling it open with all her strength. It came with a blast of frigid air and Devil, falling through the door, into her arms.

She clutched him to her and they both fell to their knees under his weight. He trembled with cold, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. He whispered one word, over and over, like a benediction. “Felicity.”

Her arms wrapped around him, desperate to hold more of him. Desperate to warm him. “Thank you for my lockpicks.”

“Y-you s-saved m-me.” He was so cold.

“Always,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cool temple. “Always.”

“F-Felicity,” he chattered her name. “I—”

She rubbed his arms with her hands, spoke to the top of his head. “No . . . don’t speak. I have to get Whit.”

He stiffened. “N-no.” He swallowed, and she saw the struggle of it. “It was so dark.”

Tears welled. “I know. I’ll leave the lantern.”

His arms turned to steel, the strength of his grip surprising and immensely comforting. “N-not the lantern. You’re the light. Don’t leave me.”

“I can’t carry you,” she said. “You have to let me get Whit.”

His eyes opened, dark in the dim light. “Don’t l-leave me ever again.”

She shook her head. “Never. But love, it is so cold here. We must warm you.”

“You’re fire,” he whispered. “You’re flame. I love you.”

The words thundered through her, and she could not stop touching him, stop running her hands over him, fast, furiously attempting to warm him. “Devil.”

He pulled away, his gaze finding hers. “I love you.”

Her heart redoubled its pounding. “Devil, I need to get you somewhere warm. Are you hurt?”

“I love you,” he whispered again. “I love you. You’re my future.”

Her heart pounded. He’d gone mad. “My love, there is time for that once we are aboveground.”

“There will never be enough time,” he said, pulling her to him, his teeth chattering, his heartbeat fast and furious. “I will never be able to tell you enough.” He kissed her, his lips cold to the touch, and somehow still setting fire to her. She reached up, stroking her hand over his cheek.

When he released her, it was to press his forehead to hers and whisper, again, “I love you.”

She could not stop the smile that came—here, in the dark, dank, frigid hold that had nearly killed this man, that also happened to be the most perfect place for him to tell her he loved her. “You told my brother first.”

“Yes.”

“I’m very angry with you about that, you know.”

“So you said.”

“I’m so angry, I came to tell you how angry I am about it. The money, too.”

He shivered, pressing his face to her neck. “I wanted you to be free of all of it.”

“I don’t want your money, Devil.”

“I didn’t need it anymore. It meant nothing without you.”

“You beautiful, ridiculous man,” she said. “Then why not have me, instead?”

“Ages ago . . . you asked me why I chose you.” His words were slow and measured, as though it was important that she hear them. “That night, I wanted it to be because I thought you could win him. Because you looked the kind of woman easily sacrificed.”

She nodded. Forlorn Felicity. Wallflower and unfortunate.

“But it wasn’t,” he continued. “It never was. It was because I wanted you close. It was because I couldn’t bear the idea of anyone having you. Anyone but me.” He pulled her close again, his cold face at the warm skin of her neck. “Christ, Felicity. I’m so sorry.”

“I am not.”

He snapped to attention. “You’re not?”

“No. You’ve a lifetime to make it up to me, and I intend to be a proper Devil’s bride.”

He grinned. “I shall adore every minute of that.”

“I want you out of this place. I want you warm.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms about her. “I have thoughts on how you might get me warm.”

He lowered his lips to hers, and she was so grateful that he was able to think of kissing in that moment that she gave herself up to it, sliding her hands up his chest to his broad shoulders and up, up to his rough-hewn jaw and into his hair, where she discovered a wet patch.

“Well. This isn’t what I expected to find down here.” Whit had arrived.

Devil released her from the kiss. “Go away.”

“No, don’t go away, Whit,” she said. “We need you.”

“We do not need him,” Devil said, moving to stand, sucking in a breath at the pain of the movement, making her heart ache.

She moved her hand to the light, blood shining black on her fingertips. “You’re bleeding.” She turned to Whit. “He’s freezing. And he’s bleeding.”

Whit immediately came forward, catching Devil’s arm over his shoulder. “What the hell happened to you?”

He put his fingers to his temple, wincing. “Ewan.” He reached for Felicity. “He didn’t come for you.”

She shook her head. “Why would he? I ended our engagement. I hit him.”

He grinned at that. “I know, love. I’m very proud of you for that bit.”

“He deserved it. And more, for what he’s done to you.”

“Grace took to the rooftops last night.”

Devil nodded. “I let Ewan think her dead.” He pulled her close and kissed her temple before looking to Whit. “He’s furious.”

Whit nodded. “He’s left. The watch reported this morning, he rode out from the Mayfair house at dawn.”

Devil nodded. “He’ll be back. He’ll want to punish us.”

Whit lifted the lantern to look at Devil’s face. “Christ, he knocked you good.”

Felicity scowled. “Never has a man needed punishment more than that one.”

He looked at her, then to Whit. “He received it today.”

Whit grunted, seeming to understand whatever that meant. Felicity did not, however, and her temper flared. “He knocked you over the head and locked you in an ice hold where you could have died. Whatever you did to him is not comparable.”

“That’s spoken like someone who’s never been desperate for the woman he loves.”

She did not hesitate. “Well, I’ve been desperate to get to the man I love, so I think I have an idea.”

The brothers watched her for a long moment, and then Whit said, “I like her.”

Devil grinned, then winced at the movement. “As do I.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re bleeding from the head. There isn’t time for liking me.”

“There will always be time for liking you, Felicity Faircloth.”

With Whit’s help, they moved Devil up into the warehouse, and then out into the courtyard, now bright with sun.

Felicity was already calling for John. “We need a hack! Or something—Devil needs a surgeon, immediately. And a decent one, not some lumbering fool with a bloodletting box.” Instead of moving to help, however, John rocked back on his heels, a wide smile on his face.

Felicity’s brow furrowed in confusion. “John, please.” And then she turned to follow the direction of his gaze, to find Devil standing perfectly still, ten paces behind her.

She flew to his side, her skirts billowing around them both. “What is it?” she said, running her hands over his arms, his shoulders. “Are you hurt somewhere else? Is it your head? Can you stand?”

He grasped her hands in one of his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Stop, love. You’ll make the boys think me soft.”

Whit grunted. “The boys already think you soft when it comes to her.”

“Only because they don’t think I’m worthy of her.”

“They know you’re not worthy of her.”

Felicity shook her head. “What is wrong with you both? He needs a doctor!”

“I need you, first,” he said.

“What?” He was mad.

“You came back for me.”

“Of course I did. I love you, you imbecile.”

Whit coughed a laugh, and Devil pressed another kiss to her fingers. “Well, we’re going to have to work on you questioning my intelligence a bit.”

“I don’t question your intelligence,” she said. “I think you’re brilliant. Except for when you think to suggest that I don’t know my own mind.”

“I love you, Felicity Faircloth.”

She smiled. “When we are married, do you intend to call me by both of my names?”

“Only if you ask me very nicely.” He leaned in close. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I found you on that balcony, having picked the lock and found your way from the light to the darkness.”

“To freedom,” she said, softly.

“That night, in your bedchamber, I jested about rescuing the princess from her tower—”

“You did that,” she interrupted.

He shook his head. “No, love. You rescued me. You rescued me from a world without color. Without light. A world without you.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Beautiful, perfect Felicity. You rescued me. I wanted you from the start. It was only a matter of time before everything—everything—was second to me wanting you. To me keeping you safe. To me loving you.” Tears filled her eyes as he continued. “And all I wanted was your happiness. Mine was nothing compared to yours.”

“But my happiness is tied to yours. Don’t you see?”

He nodded. “I can’t give you Mayfair, Felicity. We’ll never be welcome there. You’ll always have gone slumming, no matter how rich we are.” He paused, lost in thought, and then said, “But I’ll give you everything else. The wide world. You have only to ask.” His beautiful eyes glittered in the sunlight. “You rescued me from the past. You gave me a present. And now . . . I wish you to promise me the future.”