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She didn’t have a destination in mind, but the sound of a muted conversation had her strolling along a flagstone pathway toward the sunken garden at the side of the house. There was only one entrance to get through the neatly trimmed hedges that framed the gardens. Like everything else at the Willows, the glorious beauty was hidden from view unless you were one of the few lucky souls to be blessed with Benoit blood running through your veins. It was as if her ancestors feared a random passerby would spoil the prized roses and marble fountains with a mere glance.

Reaching the edge of the terrace, Livia found herself distracted by a slender form standing near the outside hedge, as if hiding in the shadows. More curious than alarmed, she strolled forward, her brows lifting as she realized who was standing there.

“Hello, Delilah.”

The older woman jerked, clearly caught off guard. Turning her head, she glared at Livia.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were resting in your rooms?”

“I was. Now I’m out getting some fresh air. What are you doing here?” Livia leaned forward. “Ah, a gap in the branches. Who are you spying on?”

Delilah reddened. “I’m not spying.”

“You’re hiding behind the bushes and peeking into the garden. It looks a lot like spying.”

Gathering her composure, Delilah flicked a dismissive glance over Livia’s casual shorts and sleeveless shirt. The older woman was wearing a tunic dress with heels despite the smothering heat, as if she expected some sort of badge of honor.

“I’m watching Celeste’s interview with the Rushville Gazette,” she at last admitted. “They asked to be the first to announce her engagement. I would have preferred to give the offer to one of the national magazines. Or even one of those online influencers. But the editor reminded me that it’s the Benoit tradition to give his paper the scoop.”

“So the prized fiancé has arrived.” Livia shifted so she could see through the opening.

The garden was in full bloom with a profusion of roses that were planted in precise rows between the paved walkways and bubbling fountains. Her great-great-grandmother had chosen the layout to reflect the gardens of Versailles, albeit on a much smaller scale.

And at the center of the garden was her cousin Celeste, in all her glory.

Taller than Livia, Celeste had inherited her mother’s slender frame and her father’s brown hair, although Celeste kept her long tresses highlighted with streaks of honey and chestnut. Like her mother, she was wearing a tunic-style dress that emphasized her slender waist and long legs. Her exposed skin had been spraypainted to look as if she spent hours in the sun, and her nails were as long as daggers and painted a deep red.

There was no doubt who and what she was: a pampered daughter of a rich man who’d never had to work a day in her life.

Nepo baby.

“He was supposed to be home last night,” Delilah answered Livia’s question. “But his flight was delayed from Ireland.” A smug smile touched her aunt’s lips. “He’s been over there for the past few weeks. He didn’t arrive home until this morning. I’m sure he’s exhausted, but he refused to reschedule. He’s always determined to put Celeste first.”

“Lucky gal,” Livia drawled. “Was Winston visiting the royals?”

“You can mock if you want, but there is a distant connection to the royal family.” Her smile never wavered. “And he wanted his grandparents’ official blessing before the wedding.”

“I assume that means they won’t be attending the party?”

“None of Winston’s family will be able to come. Such a shame.”

“None of them?”

Livia studied the man who was standing next to her cousin. He had his back to her, but she could see that he was about the same height as Celeste, which would explain why she’d chosen flats instead of her usual designer heels. He was broad through the shoulders and chest. Not fat, but definitely thick beneath his crisp white shirt and black slacks. His hair was cut short, and shimmered a deep red in the late afternoon sunlight.

The two stood next to the central fountain while a middle-aged man asked them various questions and a young woman snapped pictures of the happy couple.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Why won’t they be here?” she asked, hoping there was some fun drama that might add a little spice to her boring week.

“His mother passed away a few years ago from a sudden heart attack, and his father’s health is failing.” Delilah clicked her tongue, as if annoyed by the Durand family’s lack of endurance.

“No brothers or sisters?”

“He was an only child. Just like Celeste.” The older woman’s irritation faded. “They have a great deal in common: good looks, good breeding—”

“Stop,” Livia interrupted.