Page 152 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

He weighed it in his hands and flipped it open. ‘It’s on espaliered fruit trees.’

‘Light reading for you.’

‘Something like that.’

She stepped closer, enough to see the pages – diagrams, pictures of branches trained into shapes she recognised from the walled garden. She would miss that; miss the opinionated chickens clucking at her feet. The ducklings. Miss everything. Especially Nate.

‘Magnus keeping you busy?’ she asked.

‘I keep myself busy.’

The rain eased slightly, softening against the glass.

‘I’m out on an errand for Magnus,’ she said. ‘He sent me to the shop.’

Nate snapped the book shut, holding it against his chest. ‘He’s keeping you busy then?’

‘Much the same.’ Sammy looked past him, to the window where the rain had thinned to a steady fall. ‘I asked him again,’ she said. ‘This morning. He said no.’

‘He would.’

‘I thought if I explained it properly . . . what do you think I should do?’ she asked.

What she really meant was stay with me. Help me. But she hadn’t said that.

He set the book back on the shelf. ‘You know what to do,’ he said.

‘Do I?’

‘You need to show him you’re someone he can trust.’

‘I am,’ she said.

‘Are you? Chloe’s still in there with you. I can hear her. I heard a male voice last night too. Pretty sure Magnus can hear them from his cottage too.’

Sammy’s fingers tugged at the strap of her bag. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘It isn’t.’

The rain slowed further, until it was just a steady tapping against the window.

‘You have to decide what matters,’ he added.

Sammy held his gaze. ‘I already have.’

Nate’s eyes drifted sideways. ‘We should release the ducks before you go. Tomorrow?’

She let out a slow breath. The ducklings – her last tether to him. But she wanted to say goodbye. ‘Okay. Early tomorrow.’

He turned the book in his hands. ‘I hope it works out for you,’ he said.

Not, I’ll help you. Not, we’ll fix it together. Sammy felt that, more than anything else.

Trish appeared carrying a pile of hardbacks. ‘Hello, you two.’

‘Morning, Trish,’ said Nate.

She slotted a book onto a shelf. ‘Did your friend enjoy the book on silver?’