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Watching the city slowly give way to green countryside, she found the ride to Duskwell Castle felt different this time. They were on the same roads, looking at the same clusters of trees beyond the window, feeling the same jolt and sway of the wheels, and yet something in her chest sat lighter.

Last time she was a bride, all but delivered to a stranger’s castle, full of fear and doubt. Now, Iris sat wedged between them, chattering without pause about the pony she’d been promised she could ride once they arrived.

Nathaniel’s arm rested along the back of the seat behind Laura’s shoulders.

“Will Buttons remember me? Has he been worried about me?” Iris asked for perhaps the fourth time since they’d left London. “It’s been weeks.”

“Buttons is a pony, not a Bow Street Runner,” Nathaniel reminded her. “I doubt he’s spent the last few weeks investigating your absence, though surely he missed you quite a bit.”

“I’m certain he’ll remember you, dear,” Laura said, smiling.

Iris beamed at her, satisfied.

They arrived as the afternoon sun was beginning its long slide toward the horizon, casting the castle’s weathered gray stone in warm amber light. Laura’s eyes drifted up to one of the turrets. She liked how the ivy crept along one side like a long, crooked hand.

“Here we are,” the driver announced as the carriage rounded the fountain in front. “Safe and sound, Your Graces.”

Iris was out of the carriage before it had fully stopped, dashing toward the stables in search of Buttons. Miss Borden had barely gotten out of the carriage behind them, trailing after her with saintly patience.

Nathaniel helped Laura down, his hands lingering on her waist, and she caught the look on his face. His brown eyes grew thoughtful, almost hesitant, and his lip curled up on one side.

I hope he never stops looking at me like that.

After they unloaded the trunks and freshened up, they found Iris exactly where they’d expected. The girl was happy as a clam in the stable yard, her arms wrapped around the neck of a small, shaggy brown pony.

“He remembered me,” she declared triumphantly, the moment she spotted them. “I told you he missed me!”

“So you did,” Nathaniel said. “Iris, come here for a moment. I have something to ask you.”

Iris released Buttons at once and trotted over, her expression shifting from delight to curiosity. “What is it, Uncle? Is everything all right?”

“Perfectly, my dear.”

“What is it, then?” she asked, pulling at his sleeve. “I don’t want to keep Buttons waiting too long.”

“How would you like to see your mother’s rooms?”

“My mother’s rooms?” she repeated, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Properly, I mean. Not just for an afternoon, but whenever you like, for as long as you like. I want to open the west tower for good. How does that sound?”

Iris didn’t speak for a moment, which said more than any words could have.

“Truly?” she squeaked.

“Truly.”

“Can I bring Buttons with me? Mama liked ponies too. I know it!”

“Let’s start just with you,” Nathaniel suggested, and Laura had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.

“Well, can we go now?”

“Yes,” he said, taking the girl’s hand. “I sent word ahead to have them opened and ready for you. Now is as good a time as any.”

The west tower, when they climbed up the narrow spiral staircase, no longer smelled of dust and neglect the way it had the first time Laura had glimpsed it from the outside. The maids had clearly taken great care to air the rooms, throw back the heavy curtains, and polish the tarnished silver on the dressing table until it gleamed bright gold in the candlelight.

Isabella’s bedchamber was smaller than Laura had imagined, but tastefully arranged. Soft blue wallpaper patterned with delicate flowers covered the walls, gently faded with age. A wooden writing desk sat beneath the window, and a wardrobe hung with gowns in colors that had clearly once suited a vivacious young woman.