Her smile wavered, but it was sincere. “I know. And I am fighting too.”
She turned and moved toward the door, her bare feet soundless on the carpet. At the threshold, she paused, glancing back.
“Good night, Nathaniel.”
“Good night, Serena.”
And then she was gone, dissolving into the darkened corridor like a dream at dawn.
Nathaniel remained where he was long after, staring at the space she had left behind, feeling the lingering warmth of her presence in the air.
Three days until the Cranes arrived.
Three days of restraint, of pretence, of loving without expression.
He could endure three days.
He had to.
***
Thursday dawned grey and overcast, as though the weather itself was reluctant to welcome the Cranes to Greystone Hall.
Serena woke early, despite having slept poorly. Her conversation with Nathaniel in the library two nights ago had haunted her, filling her dreams with images of a future that might never come to pass. She had risen before the sun, dressed carefully in her most professional grey dress, and gone to check on the children.
Rosie was still sleeping; Marianne clutched to her chest as always. Serena stood in the doorway of her room for a moment,watching the rise and fall of the little girl’s breathing, feeling a fierce protectiveness surge through her.
These children. These precious, wounded, resilient children. She could not lose them. Would not lose them—not to Lady Crane, not to anyone.
Samuel was awake when Serena reached his room, sitting up in bed with a book in his hands. He looked up as she entered, his eyes wary.
“They’re coming today,” he said. It was not a question.
“Yes. Your aunt and uncle will arrive this afternoon.”
Samuel was quiet for a moment. Then: “Ella says they want to take us away. Is that true?”
Serena crossed to his bed and sat down on the edge. “I do not know what they want, Samuel. But I know that your uncle will do everything in his power to keep you here, where you belong. And I know that whatever happens, you are loved. You will always be loved.”
“By you?”
The question was so direct, so painfully vulnerable, that Serena felt something tightened behind her eyes.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “By me.”
Samuel nodded, absorbing this. Then, in a voice that was almost steady, “I don’t want to go to Bath. I don’t want to live with Aunt Elspeth. She’s... cold.”
Serena kept her voice calm. “What makes you say that?”
“She looks at us like we’re doing something wrong,” he said, frowning as he searched for the words. “Like we’re in the way.”
“You are not in the way, Samuel. Not ever.”
“I know.” He hesitated, then added more softly, “I just want to stay here. With Uncle Nate. And you. And Ella and Rosie.” He swallowed. “This is our home.”
“It is,” Serena said. “And we are going to do everything we can to keep it that way.”
She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, brief but earnest, and seemed a little steadier for it.
