“You wish to save such things for the true marriage you will find after this. Love will find you, Daisy. It is only a year.” “Yes,” she said. “Only a year.” He drew off the Herondale ring, with its pattern of soaring birds. She held out her hand, and James slid it onto her finger without hesitation. Cordelia watched as he did it, watched the fall of his long lashes against his cheek, like black ink against a white page. Love will find you. Love had found her years ago, and now, and every day since she had first seen James in London. You don’t love me, he’d said to her. He had no idea. He never
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