I stood at the tall windows of the foyer long after the heavy front doors had closed behind him, watching Liam’s car pull down the long gravel drive until it disappeared past the gates. The house went quiet in that particular way it only did when he was gone — not empty, exactly, just waiting.
I wandered back through the rooms without any real destination, the marble cool under my bare feet. Mrs. Gable had already seen to breakfast dishes and the morning’s flowers, and Noah wasn’t due to call with any update on the signature until the afternoon. For the first time in days, there was nothing urgent pulling at me, and the stillness felt almost foreign after the last forty-eight hours.
I ended up in the east wing, in the long gallery hall I usually walked past without stopping, and found my
