Lily brightened. “Maybe we can come again tomorrow?”
“We shall see,” she murmured, reaching for Lily’s small, warm hand.
They began the walk back up the slope, shells clinking in the girls’ pockets.
Each step closer to the manor made Violet’s pulse beat harder.
The path curved.
The hedges rose.
The top of the house came into view.
Her stomach twisted sharply.
She tightened her hold on Lily’s hand.
Whatever waited inside those walls—
it carried the power to undo the fragile peace she had built.
Anything was possible.
And sometimes the unknown was worse than any fate she could name.
“Come along, darling,” she whispered.
And she walked toward it anyway.
Chapter Thirty
When Violet and the girls climbed the front steps of the Hamilton Estate, Nathaniel greeted them at the door himself, his smile warm and untroubled by the tempest in Violet’s chest.
“Did you find treasures for me?” he asked, lowering himself to the girls’ height.
Mary and Emily burst into delighted chatter, extending sandy fists full of shells. Lily proudly added her own clutched handful.
Nathaniel’s eyes sparkled. “Exquisite. The three of you are far finer explorers than I ever was at your age.”
Then, with gentle authority, he rose and said, “Mary, Emily—would you be so kind as to take Miss Lily up to the nursery for a few minutes? I shall join you shortly.”
The girls nodded eagerly, gathering Lily between them as they headed for the stairs. Their giggles trailed behind them, growing lighter and lighter until the sound disappeared into the hush of the upper floor.
Silence drifted in their wake, and then they were alone.
Nathaniel approached her slowly, his voice quiet, threaded with a sympathy she had never asked for.
“Violet… I am so sorry.”
Her throat tightened. She blinked hard, but one tear escaped anyway. She drew in a quick, unsteady breath, trying—and failing—to swallow the sound that rose in her throat.
“So,” she whispered. “He told you.”
He shook his head.
“You told me,” he said quietly. “All he did was give me his side of it.”
He continued, “I should be honest. I have not spoken to William Ashford since our school days. I received a letter only a few days ago, asking to call upon me. I agreed, thinking nothing of it. I had no idea…” His gaze softened. “No idea what he had been to you.”
