LOGINThe house in the countryside had a way of making time feel soft. That is exactly why I had chosen it over the city when William asked me where I would like to live after we wed. I stood by the window longer than I needed to, watching sunlight spill over the fields outside. Everything looked impossibly green. Alive in a way that made my chest tighten sometimes, not with fear anymore—but with something I was still learning how to hold.Peace, I think.Still unfamiliar on my tongue.Behind me, I heard it before I saw it. A small laugh. Then another. William’s voice followed immediately after, strained in the way it always became when he was pretending to be serious.“Henry Rathcliffe, you are absolutely not supposed to be awake yet.” A delighted squeal answered him.I smiled before I even turned around.When I did, I leaned quietly against the doorway and watched them.William was sitting on the nursery floor, sleeves rolled up, hair messier than he would ever admit to liking. Henry sat
The moment I heard his name, everything inside me moved before I did. I was already running.Not away.Toward.The garden path blurred beneath my steps as I hurried through the doors of the house, my breath catching somewhere painfully in my chest. The sunlight outside suddenly felt too bright, too sharp, as though the world itself had shifted without warning.William.It could not be.It should not be.But the moment I stepped into the foyer, I saw him.Standing there.Real.Not memory. Not dream. Not grief disguised as longing.William Rathcliffe.He looked different and yet exactly the same in ways that made my heart ache so violently I almost stumbled.And then I saw them. “Katherine—David—”The words left me before I could stop them.Katherine let out a small cry and ran first.“Belle!”I barely had time to open my arms before she collided into me, her small arms wrapping tightly around my waist. The force of it nearly knocked the breath from me.David followed immediately, slowe
It was my birthday. I did not tell anyone. Not John. Not the servants. Not even the quiet corners of the house that had begun to feel familiar in the way old grief sometimes does—softened at the edges, but never gone. I woke before sunrise. For a moment, I simply lay still beneath the thin linen sheets and listened to the world outside my windows. France sounded different from England.Gentler, perhaps. The vineyard breeze moved through the open shutters like a breath rather than a command. Birds called to one another somewhere in the distance. The house below me was already waking—soft footsteps, distant clatter of pots, the smell of bread drifting faintly through the floorboards. And for the first time in what felt like years, I did not wake with dread. I woke… with something close to peace. It unsettled me more than I expected. Because peace had become unfamiliar. I pressed a hand lightly over my stomach without thinking. The movement had become instinct now, something I d
The following morning I found John exactly where I expected him to be. The library.Sunlight spilled through the tall windows while he sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace reading correspondence. A half-finished cup of coffee rested beside him while several opened letters lay scattered across the small table.He looked up immediately when I entered.Something in my expression must have told him why I was there. Because he slowly set the papers aside. "You've decided?"The certainty in his voice made my stomach twist. I wasn't entirely sure I had decided anything. That was the problem. I crossed the room slowly before lowering myself into the chair opposite him. For several moments neither of us spoke.John simply waited.Patient as always.Finally I took a breath. "I thought about what you said. I barely slept With how much I thought about it.""I figured as much." Despite myself, I laughed softly. The smile faded quickly. Silence settled between us again. Then I looked dow
I spent most of the afternoon staring out the window.The conversation with John's mother continued replaying endlessly inside my mind no matter how many times I tried to focus on something else.You are not a burden here.John had said the words so easily.So sincerely.Yet I could not silence the growing certainty that eventually I would become exactly that.The estate gardens stretched below my bedroom window, bathed in late afternoon sunlight. Servants moved through the pathways tending flowers while fountains glittered softly between rows of lavender.It should have been peaceful.Instead my thoughts remained trapped somewhere between England and France.Between William and John.Between the life I had left behind and the uncertain future waiting ahead. I pressed my hand lightly against my stomach.The baby had become impossible to ignore now.Every decision I made no longer affected only me.Soon enough my condition would become obvious.People would ask questions.And eventuall
The following morning arrived bright and warm beneath clear French skies. I stood beside John along the garden paths while sunlight filtered through the trees overhead, casting soft gold across the winding stone walkways beneath our feet. Lavender swayed gently in the breeze around us while fountains glittered quietly farther down the estate grounds.France truly was beautiful.I understood now why John preferred it to England.Nothing here felt heavy.Nothing felt haunted.And yet somehow I still carried England with me everywhere I went.I wrapped my shawl slightly tighter around my shoulders as we walked slowly between rows of climbing roses.“You are thinking again,” John observed beside me.I glanced toward him faintly. “You say that as though it is a criminal offense.”“In excess, it absolutely is.”A reluctant smile touched my mouth. John possessed a quiet ease that softened rooms without demanding attention from them. Even his silences felt comfortable now..Especially after







