Author's Note: Only one more chapter to go after this one, dear readers! I hope this one was worth the wait. :) Thanks to all of you for reading; you all keep me going. Please let me know what you think! A huge thanks to my beta, lastincurableromantic, who took extra time to help me get this one right; and to Stetsonfreak, who put together a lovely graphic for the story on her tumblr account, if you want to check it out.

Although she remained true to her word to her mum, not allowing Lady Yvonne's spiteful denouncements to shake her self-confidence, the confrontation still managed to cause a tempest within Rose's mind and heart.

Lady Yvonne's objection to the purported match, and her employment of any means to hinder it, did not surprise her in the least. It was the existence of such a rumor that perplexed her, as well as the unresolved feelings that the rumor had renewed. While it might at one time have been a valid concern, that moment had long since passed. Rose closed her eyes, as if she could thereby shut out the feelings that threatened to consume her. She was strong and optimistic by nature, and after Mr. Smith's aloofness at their last meeting, she was determined to move on; it did not benefit anyone to dwell on what might have been. His aunt's mistaken supposition had, unfortunately, renewed her sense of loss, but nothing had changed. If anything, Lady Yvonne's interference and disapproval would likely only strengthen his decision to distance himself from her.

Resolutely she pushed down the distracting emotions. She needed a clear head if she was to make any sense of this situation. How had such a rumor even begun, and how had it reached the ears of someone like Lady Yvonne Hartman?

The news of Donna's engagement was known throughout the village, but how far it had traveled beyond that Rose did not know. And, she supposed, one happy match often begets speculation about others. It was plausible therefore, due to her relation to Donna and the close friendship between Mr. Harkness and Mr. Smith, that their names had been joined by a few over-eager gossips merely by association.

Suddenly it struck her that the Joneses had left to visit their daughter and son-in-law in Kent only a few days ago. They certainly knew of Donna's newfound happiness, and they, like so many people, had no qualms about sharing news of such interest with others, especially where it might not be known. In addition, Mr. Jones had always had a soft spot for his daughter's best friend and tried to play matchmaker for her on several occasions. A fond smile touched Rose's lips as she remembered that night so many months ago, when he had good-naturedly badgered Mr. Smith to dance with her at the ball. Although the gentleman had acquiesced (an act which later seemed to take on more significance), she had refused him, her pride and feelings too wounded by his earlier dismissal of her. How much has changed since then, she thought, studying her dim reflection by the light of her candle, and yet, how much has not.

She was home once again. In the last few months, she had been made (and refused) two offers of marriage. She had travelled and had some adventures. She was as stubborn and headstrong as ever, still impulsive and curious and opinionated. But something within her had changed, a tempering of the mind that comes with learning that one is not infallible, that there is sometimes a fine line between conviction and prejudice. And an awakening within her heart had occurred as well, one that suddenly made her reflection too much to bear. Rose hastily extinguished the revealing flame and slipped into bed, hoping for a night of dreamless sleep.

Rose stretched luxuriously, feeling cheerful and well-rested despite the early hour. Although she did dream, and about him, these dreams had not been filled with the aching sense of separation that had recently plagued her. This time they had run hand-in-hand, talking and laughing as they explored the fields and forests of Gallifrey, with K-9 racing excitedly on ahead of them before bounding back again.

The dream faded quickly from her consciousness, leaving behind only a pleasant sense of contentment. Quietly she slipped out of bed and dressed, casting an affectionate glance at the redhead sprawled across the other bed, still fast asleep.

She traipsed lightly down the stairs, trailing her hand along the smooth bannister and trying unsuccessfully to recall the fleeting fantasy that had left her feeling so lighthearted. Certain that her father would be the only one up this early, she was heading towards the kitchen to grab a bite of toast when Pete Tyler poked his head out of the study.

"Rose! I was hoping it might be you," he said, his eyes alight with mirth. "Can you come here for a moment?"

Rose raised a wary eyebrow in his direction but followed obligingly. She knew the family had been curious about their unexpected visitor yesterday, but for the most part they had left her in peace. Jackie had been surprisingly understanding, and Rose was most grateful to her mum for whatever story she had supplied to account for it. However, she wondered if her respite might be at an end.

"A letter came this morning," he declared importantly, retrieving it from his desk and turning to face her with a grin, "the contents of which have given me quite a shock. I was unaware that I had two daughters soon to be married! I do wish you had mentioned it, but of course you have my blessing."

Her cheeks aflame, Rose froze in her tracks, her eyes fixed upon the letter in her father's hand. Her carefree happiness of moments ago evaporated. Was it from Lady Yvonne? Or, she pondered, her heart in her throat, from Mr. Smith himself? But surely he didn't… and even if he did, wouldn't he write to her instead? Confusion, joy, and frustration played across her features.

Pete watched her carefully, laughter dancing in his eyes even as his face remained solemn. When she made no move to answer, he continued. "You look a bit troubled, Rosie, but I don't think you need be. The letter is from Mr. Jones."

Rose exhaled. Had she been holding her breath? "Mr. Jones?"

"Naturally he and his wife know of the engagement between Mr. Harkness and your sister, and they are quite overjoyed for us. But," he added with amusement, "it seems quite generally accepted that you are spoken for as well. Indeed, that soon you will be wed to one of the most eligible gentlemen in all of England! To - are you ready for this, Rose? - none other than Mr. Smith! To that arrogant, disagreeable man who never had a kind word for anyone, who shunned you, and whom you so clearly disliked. Have you ever heard a more ridiculous notion? But my dear, you do not look amused. Are you alright?" Pete looked at her with concern, all trace of teasing gone.

Rose mustered up a smile. "Of course. I'm fine. I am very amused. It just took me by surprise, is all. Please, go on."

"Well," he continued hesitantly, "he wrote to congratulate us, of course, but also to warn us. It seems they mentioned these forthcoming 'happy events' in the presence of Lady Yvonne, who it seems was rather violently opposed to the suggestion. Although a bit silly, the man has a good heart, and he fears he has unintentionally sent trouble our way."

Abruptly his gaze sharpened. "Jackie said you looked upset yesterday. Was her Lady Yvonne unkind to you?" he demanded protectively, stepping closer and laying a gentle hand on her arm.

Drawing comfort from his obvious concern, she replied, "She would never call it unkindness. Her ladyship feels it is her obligation, nay her right, to tell everyone precisely what she thinks, and therefore what they should think. I'm afraid we might have disagreed a bit on that," Rose told him, biting her lip to contain her smile.

His stance relaxed slightly at her attempt at humor. "And I suppose she came to foil your happy union?" he teased.

Rose merely laughed, hoping, as that was the expected response, that he wouldn't notice that it sounded a bit off. She knew that her father loved her dearly, and he had no way of knowing what had passed between herself and Mr. Smith while she was away. But it hurt regardless to hear him speak of Mr. Smith's indifference and of the absurdity of thinking that such a man might love her in the first place.

Feeling suddenly very foolish, she began to leave the room, but was arrested by Pete's hand on her shoulder. "Rose, I believe I've upset you, dear. Forgive me if I have. It's good for us to laugh at the world sometimes, but you know I mean no harm by it. I certainly never mean to distress you." He leaned down slightly, searching her eyes.

Rose nodded, giving him a small but genuine smile. "Don't worry, Dad. You didn't upset me. I don't know what came over me, but I'm fine. Promise," she fibbed lightly.

"Alright. Oh, before you go," he began, turning back towards his desk, "a letter arrived for you as well." Handing the note to her, he placed a light kiss to the top of her head before settling in his favorite armchair.

Recognizing Martha's handwriting, Rose betook herself to her bedroom, not wanting to be peppered with questions at the moment. Quickly opening the letter, she found it (as she had suspected) to contain much of the same, but with an even more apologetic air than her father's.

It was inevitable that father would share the news of Donna's engagement to Mr. Harkness - who I am so extremely happy for, by the way! - but Mickey and I were appalled to hear him almost immediately spout out speculation about you and Mr. Smith. I cut him off as quickly as I could, Rose, but Lady Yvonne was there. The damage was done. I'm afraid this will not reach you in time, and I wish I could spare you an undoubtedly unpleasant visit. I am so sorry, Rose. Please don't hold it against my father; you know he would never intentionally hurt you. Thankfully I know you're strong enough to handle that horrid woman. Don't let her beat you down, okay?

I had already intended to write you today, but for a much happier reason. Mickey and I are expecting! We are very excited, though your cousin is already starting to annoy me with all the unnecessary coddling. Robert and Isobel send their love; although they have made nothing public as of yet, I don't expect it will be long.

The letter concluded with expressions of love and support, and Rose folded the note with a smile. She was delighted for her friends and resolved to visit them again soon, unpleasant neighbors notwithstanding. And even from far away, Martha's belief in her helped to renew her spirit.

With each new day Rose expected to hear Jack mention that his friend had written, saying that unfortunately he would not be able to visit as planned. So far no word had come, but she did not allow herself to hope that she would see Mr. Smith again, at least not anytime soon.

It was a pleasantly cool morning in October, the chill of winter just beginning to make itself felt. A handful of wispy clouds scudded across the azure sky as the wind tugged gently at their hair and dresses, pulling loose a few golden strands. Rose inhaled deeply, loving the smell and feel of the crisp air filling her lungs, setting her limbs tingling with energy and the simple need to move.

Donna had decided to accompany her on her walk, despite Jack being at the house already. Rose was pleased but surprised. "So where is Jack? I thought you two were inseparable nowadays."

"Oi! Can't I go for walk with my sister without being teased for it?" Donna retorted, landing a gentle whack on Rose's arm. "I think he's in the study with Dad; they were nattering on about politics or some such last I heard. No, ta. Besides, we don't get to talk as much anymore - and yes, I know, that's mostly my doing, so hush - but I've been worried about you, Rose. I can tell you're not entirely happy, so don't try to pretend with me."

Rose met her sister's discerning blue gaze with a rueful smile. "But I am alright, really. Sometimes it's just hard to let go, even though you know you have to. And then that awful woman had to visit… That just made it harder, y'know?" Rose admitted, biting her lip as her true feelings tumbled out. "He's infuriating and wonderful, and I miss him, Donna. I just wish I could see him again, no matter what happens. I love him."

"Oh, Rose." Donna reached for her sister's hands, tenderness and sympathy written across her face. Something beyond them pulled Donna's gaze away for a moment, amazement and delight registering on her features as she earnestly looked back at Rose. "Then I really think you should tell him."

"What?" Rose asked, perplexed. Of course she wanted to tell him, but… She watched Donna's eyes shift to look behind her again, and slowly, her heart suddenly beating wildly in her chest, she turned to follow Donna's gaze.

Time slowed as her mind processed the scene before her. Across the meadow still damp with the morning's dew, a figure approached, and though he was still a good distance away, she knew that tall, lean form by heart. She felt paralyzed, utterly unable to move, yet inside her something was singing. Donna chuckled lightly, giving her a little nudge, and Rose knew she was returning to the house, leaving them alone together.

She could see him more clearly now - the wind mussing his gorgeous hair and whipping his greatcoat around his ankles, his long, loping strides full of purpose and quickening as he drew nearer, his boyish face graced by the hint of a smile, tentative yet hopeful.

A smile of utter joy lit Rose's features, growing wider as he beamed back at her, and suddenly her feet were free and she was running. No, she was flying, and while she should have been embarrassed she wasn't, because by now he was running as well. The next moment he caught her in his embrace, her arms flung around his neck and his firmly wrapped around her waist as he spun her in a circle, her feet dangling in mid-air.

After a few wonderful, delirious moments he set her upon her feet again. Reluctantly they let go and stepped back just a little, both taken slightly aback by the fervent nature of their reunion.

"Hello."

Rose's eyes, which had shifted to her clasped (and trembling) hands, flew to meet his impossibly warm ones. "Hi," she replied, a small laugh escaping her at the familiar exchange.

They stood in silence, each seeming equally unable to look away but unsure of how to proceed. Rose still could not quite fathom this unexpected turn of events. Yet despite their undeniably affectionate and highly improper greeting, she still felt a sliver of doubt. There were things that must be said, and there were things… well, that she hoped she'd eventually have the courage to say. Quieting her nerves, she said, "Please, Mr. Smith, I must be allowed to thank you for your tremendous kindness towards my sister. I can only imagine what you endured to accomplish it. Ever since I learned of it, I have been anxious to express my gratitude, and to thank you on behalf of my family as well, who do not know all you have done for us."

He shook his head, a look of consternation crossing his handsome features, and Rose hastily spoke again. "Please don't be cross with my aunt. Lucy let it slip first, and I could not rest until I'd discovered the truth."

John gazed down at her, his demeanor softening. "That I can easily believe, though I am sorry it troubled you. I am very glad I could help your sister and your family; honestly, I felt compelled to. But please, if you must thank me, let it be only for yourself. I believe I thought only of you," he confessed, his voice low and earnest.

Hope warred with disbelief within her, a surge of warmth coursing through her veins at his words, and she found herself quite unable to speak for sheer joy.

Drawn in by the play of emotion in her fathomless eyes, he leaned a little closer, watching her intently as he cast all his defenses aside. "You are too good to toy with my emotions. If your feelings are what they were in April, please tell me, and I will say no more on the matter. My affections and wishes remain unchanged."

A breathy sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, escaped Rose's lips. He still loved her! Wonder and elation stronger than she'd ever known swelled in her heart, causing a shy smile to blossom over her face. In a moment of boldness she took his hand, pleased by the way he easily intertwined their fingers and by how right it felt, her hand and arm tingling at the contact. "My feelings…" she stammered, struggling to articulate, and hoping he could read the answer on her face. "I… I can't bear to think of what I said then. How I feel now… 's quite the opposite."

Like the sun breaking free of the clouds, a brilliant smile lit his face, and she returned it effortlessly. Swiftly he gathered both her hands in his and brought them to his lips, the sensation of which, along with the intense ardor of his gaze, made her feel giddy.

Somehow Rose managed to keep her feet beneath her as he released one of her hands, clasping the other happily between them as he urged her to walk with him. She hardly noticed their surroundings; they could have been anywhere or nowhere. It all seemed inconsequential compared to the singular presence of the man ambling along beside her. She learned that Lady Yvonne had indeed sought him out and told him of her vexing altercation with Miss Tyler. Rose blushed a little and ducked her head, remembering some of the assertions she'd made.

He reached over, his fingers gently tilting her chin up until her eyes met his. "No, Rose. You don't understand. Aunt Yvonne was so piqued, she was almost raging - which is quite an accomplishment, I might add - and the whole time I had to fight to keep from grinning, or worse yet, laughing. She meant to discourage me and instead she led me to hope for things I'd hardly dared to before. I knew that if you were truly set against me, you would have had no qualms about telling her so," he declared, his eyes sparkling impishly.

Rose laughed, her cheeks growing warm at his teasing. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. After abusing you so awfully to your face, why would I hold back from doing so to all your relations?"

Straightaway his expression shifted, solemnity replacing the playfulness in an instant. "I deserved it. Okay yes, perhaps a few of your judgments were based upon faulty information, but my conduct towards you, the things I said… it was unpardonable. It pains me to remember how I acted. However, you rebuked me most soundly, with words that burned straight into my soul - 'if you had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.'"

Rose peered up at him in astonishment. "I didn't think… I mean, I never expected they would affect you so deeply."

A self-deprecating laugh escaped him. "Of course you didn't. You thought me cruel and unfeeling, and who could blame you? I was so angry - we both were - and there you stood before me, all fiery and indignant and soaked to the bone, vibrant and passionate and absolutely beautiful. I loved you, still do, and suddenly all I wanted was to…" His eyes flicked to her lips before darting up again, his ears growing pink. Rose swallowed and diverted her gaze, recalling the similar urge that had seized her then, causing her to question her sanity. Now, though… she stole a sidelong glance at John and almost melted, finding his heated gaze upon her before they quickly looked away.

They were silent for a minute or two as they attempted to compose themselves, but their hands never parted. Eventually John found the courage to speak again. "I have been a selfish being most of my life. My parents were kind and noble people but indulgent of me; I was taught good principles but left to follow them on my own, and I became proud and overbearing. But then I met you, with your courage and vivacity and compassion, and you saved me from myself. You make me better, Rose Tyler," he murmured softly, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek.

Her eyes drifted shut as he closed the distance between them. Ever so gently his lips brushed hers, soft and sweet and perfect, and the world around them fell away.