His breath caught in his chest as the carriage pulled to a well-practiced stop before the elegant, vine-wrapped gates. The rising beat of anticipation grew, every sound a flutter, every sight a surging pulse. His hands clenched once against his legs, then relaxed. Only once. Decorum dictated at least a façade of nonchalance. A gloved hand swung the carriage door open as another figure opened the gates. The rider launched...