A thousand apologies to you, my poor dear readers. I know it's been a while. This chapter would have been up sooner if my life wasn't so incredibly crazy right now. I'm currently working on my college application (early action to Kalamazoo College); I just finished a five page paper about Pride & Prejudice; I have pages and pages of stuff to read for debate; the calculus homework just never seems to stop. You know how it is. But I finally just told myself I had to sit down and update, so here it is. I think you're really going to like this one.

November 1791: It had been nearly three months since the Hawthornes' party, and Henri and Liberty hadn't spoken to each other since. At first, he had tried coming to see the Hillers, begging every time to be allowed to speak with Liberty, but every time, she refused him. Eventually, he had just stopped trying. He ate his meals at the boardinghouse now, since of course there were no more invitations to eat with the Hillers or the Hawthornes. But he was still just as much in love with Liberty as ever, and he hadn't given up hope that maybe one day he could make her see that.

And Liberty was just as attached to Henri as she had ever been. But she still wasn't sure that she was ready to see him again. So far as she knew, he was still engaged. And as much as she loved him, she had a hard time forgiving him for kissing her. To her mind, their kiss had been for nothing, since there seemed to be no possibility but that he would marry Anne. But with all her heart, she wished that it didn't have to be like that. Late at night, as she lay in bed, she looked out her window at the stars and prayed that things would somehow change, that somehow everything would work out. Little did she know that soon all her prayers would be answered.

It was the morning of November 10th, and today Henri was giving it one last try. If she refused him this time, he told himself, that would be it. He would give up on her forever, as much as it pained him. But he didn't want it to come to that, which is why he was knocking at the door of 125 Pritchard Street. He wished with all his heart that Liberty would answer.

She didn't. Instead, he got Mercy. But at least she smiled when she saw him. "Can I please talk to your sister?" he asked, "Please. I'll do anything, just please let me see her."

Mercy grinned at him. "I thought you'd given up," she said in a tone of awe and wonder, "But I'm so glad you didn't. Stay right here and I'll go get her." She turned and hurried off down the hall, leaving the front door open. Henri wondered if he should step inside, then thought better of it. This might be the sort of situation where it would be best not to have her family watching. He leaned against the door frame and waited, trying to calm his pounding heart.

Mercy burst into the kitchen, where her sister was kneading bread dough. "Liberty, he's here!" she whispered excitedly, "and he wants to talk to you! And I mean, he really wants to talk to you!"

Liberty's eyes grew wide. "Where is he?" she asked, "You didn't tell him I was coming, did you?"

"No, not exactly..."

"Well, then what did you say?"

"I said that I was coming to get you. You are going to see him, aren't you?"

"I don't know, Mercy. I just don't know if I can."

"Libs, you have to. I told you, he loves you. And you still love him, I can tell. So please don't waste this chance. What if he never comes back again?"

Liberty pondered that for a moment. "Alright," she said finally, "I'll do it. But Mercy, I've been baking, and I look like a fright."

"No, you don't. Just take off your apron, wipe the flour off your hands, and smooth your hair, and you'll be fine."

She did. "Better?" she asked.

Mercy nodded. "Much. You look amazing. Now go talk to him."

Liberty took a deep breath and walked through the kitchen door. Upon turning the corner into the entranceway, she caught her first glimpse of him. He was leaning against the frame of the front door, looking devastatingly attractive. She suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to be near him. Quickening her step, she reached him, smiled slightly, and said, "Hello, Henri."

Henri felt himself grow lighter inside at the sound of her voice. It really had been too long. "Hello, Liberty," he said warmly, "Shall we go outside?"

She nodded. "I think we should."

They walked out into the gray November morning, laughing self-consciously as their bodies brushed against one another. Henri reached back and shut the door behind them. It was rather chilly, with a breeze off the water, and Liberty shivered in her thin calico dress. Henri wanted to hold her, but he restrained himself. It was still too soon; things were still too awkward. He did, however, move closer to her. "We need to talk," he said.

"I agree," she said, "We do."

"There are a lot of things I need to explain to you."

"There are." My, this is going well, she thought to herself.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" This was unexpected.

"I'm so sorry for what happened. At the party, before the party, after the party. All of it. I'm sorry."

She smiled in spite of herself. It felt so good to hear him say that. "I've already forgiven you," she replied, "It took some time, but I did."

"I never loved Anne."

"Then why on earth were you engaged to her? Why ask a woman to marry you if you don't love her?"

"Because I needed money for my store. And the only way I could get a loan from her father, from anyone really, was to marry her. I'm really ashamed of myself for acting that way, but I was desperate."

"So let me get this straight," she said incredulously, "You agreed to marry the girl because of a loan? That's really quite low. I wouldn't have thought it possible of you."

"Well, let me tell you, I didn't think it possible of me either. There was one reason in particular that I felt so cheap, one reason in particular that I knew I couldn't keep up the charade any longer."

"And, pray tell, what was that?"

He moved another step closer and took her hands in his. "Because," he said softly, "I was already in love with you."

She gasped. "You were?"

"I was." And then he kissed her. It was a beautiful kiss, better even than the one they had shared at the ball. Liberty moved towards him and let him wrap his arms around her. He held her close, like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Because she was. And she let him kiss her, safe in the circle of his embrace, equally certain that there was no one else in the world of any importance aside from him.

Eventually, Henri pulled away. But it was only to reach in his pocket and pull out a small velvet box. "I was hoping things would go like this," he said, laughing a little. He bent down on one knee and opened the box. "Liberty Anne Hiller," he said in a soft voice, "would you marry me?"

Liberty burst into tears for what seemed the billionth time in the past few months, but this time, they were tears of joy. "Yes," she choked out, "Yes! Of course! Of course I'll marry you!"

He took her hand in his, and when he released it, she looked down to see a soft sparkle on her ring finger. It was a gold ring, set with a perfect, glittering diamond. "It's not the same ring," he whispered, "I took that one back to the jeweler and bought you one of your own." Then he kissed her again.

This time, it was Liberty who pulled away. Something on the ground had caught her eye. She bent down to pick it up, and when she straightened, she was holding a pink hair ribbon in her hand. "My ribbon," she breathed.

Henri shuffled his feet nervously. "It must have fallen out of my pocket when I took out the ring box."

She laughed. "Do you mean to tell me that you've been carrying my ribbon around in your pocket for the past three months?"

"It was just a little something to remember you by..." He seemed slightly sheepish, which Liberty found very attractive.

"Henri LeFevre, that is the most beautiful, romantic, wonderful thing I've ever heard of!"

"It is? Oh, it is!" He pulled her into his arms again. "Well then, how do you like this?" And he kissed her once more, this time lifting her off the ground and swinging her around in a circle.

"Oh, I like that very much," she murmured, "And I think I'll let you hold on to that ribbon for awhile." She traced a finger teasingly along the side of his neck. "At least, until our wedding day."

"I love you," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you too," she whispered back. And then she kissed him.

Awww, isn't it romantic? I love these two-they're just so cute. Before I go, I just want to thank you for all the great reviews, especially in response to my plea in chapter seven. You guys are so nice, and such an inspiration to keep writing. So don't stop! I love hearing what you think! Hugs and kisses for you all!