The final kiss was one that Maud had been deliberately allowed to see. Robin, laughing at something Edwin said, then crossing the room to bend down and lower the top edge of Edwin’s book—and to kiss him while smiling, with the ease that said he’d done it a hundred times before, and the confidence that said he wasn’t ashamed. There had been more emotion in the brief press of Edwin’s fingertips to Robin’s jaw, his sharp blue eyes falling closed, than in an operatic aria.
