Ben’s thick brows raised with interest. In the slight glow emanating from his room, the dark complexion of his forever sun-kissed skin seemed to glisten.

“Sylvie,” Remi addressed her with as much authority as she could muster. It was hard to keep her focus when Ben’s attention focused on her heavily. “I just wanted to be sure our guest was settled. Does he have everything he needs?”

“Yes, Madame.” Sylvie didn’t move. “Monsieur was just asking for a bath.”

“Before supper,” he added, leaning against the doorframe.

“Then we should tend to that presently,” Remi pressed.

“Yes, Madame. Excuse me.” Sylvie’s eyes widened, and she ducked her head as she passed.

A frigid moment of silence passed between them, his dark eyes hard and empty.

Remi tightened her grip on the blanket and opened her mouth to speak. “I hope⁠—”

“Don’t.” Ben held his position.

Remi sucked in a breath. “Have I done something?” she asked. “I apologize if⁠—”

“Madame.” His voice was deep, a rumble in his chest that she could practically feel rattling in her breast. “I need none of your apologies. We are beyond such formalities. I’m not here for you.”

The emphasis of his words was like a smack to her cheek.

“I was under no such impression.” She never expected him to come back for her, not after he’d rejected her so thoroughly. If not for Edgar’s death, she knew he might never have returned at all.

Ben straightened an inch.

“Let me make myself clear,” he started, a trace of poison lacing his tone. “I do not care to know, nor do I have any interest in the relationship you had with my father. Your condolences and sympathies are unnecessary for me. In fact, they are most unwelcome.”

She tipped her chin up in defiance. His eyes lit up, half-amused, though he was still visibly angry.

“If you intend for us to share in our grief, then you are to be sorely disappointed, Madame.” The sound of footsteps on the stairs echoed as the last syllable reached Remi’s ears.

“I haven’t the slightest intention to share my grief, as it were,” she said coldly. “You may not approve of the circumstances of our unique situation, but we can at least come to some sort of understanding.” Wet and dripping a sizable river along the floor of the hallway, she refused to be dismissed again.

“And what sort of understanding is that?” Ben sneered, a mocking smile plastered on his face.

“Until the reading of the will, I am the lady of this estate.” She paused for a breath. “And while you’re here, you’ll treat me with some modicum of respect.”

Ben considered her, as though surprised.

She fidgeted but pressed on. “Of course, I will do the same.”

“That’s rather courteous of you.”

“I only want you to feel,” she paused, searching for the right words, “...at home again.”

He pressed his lips together, his expression hardening. It felt right to say it, yet Remi regretted her words instantly. She’d never seen someone shut down so completely.

“Remi!” Elise called from behind.

Just in time, she thought. “I’ll leave you to your bath then.”

Quickly, Remi gave a polite nod and hurried down to the opposite hall. Elise did not take her eyes off Ben until Remi was pulling her along. It was hard enough to speak so plainly with Ben but harder still to get her cousin to stop ogling him.

“I don’t know what you said to him,” Elise said once they were safely in Remi’s room, “but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”

Remi shook the blanket off and ran both hands over her tired eyes. Whatever Elise meant to imply, it was just the opposite.

“Just get me out of this dress, please.”

Supper would be an insufferable affair.

REMI

“I wonder if he missed us,” Elise said as she fixed Remi’s damp hair.

Remi frowned. She was dry now, dressed in a fresh ensemble, but the chill of the rain clung to her skin, and she shivered. “I’m not so sure he did.”

“We could ask him?”

“I very much doubt he wants to reminisce on memories long since past,” Remi said.

Elise finished Remi’s hair and slunk back towards the bed, sinking into its cushioned duvet. The look on her face was distant, almost sympathetic.

“I miss those days.”

“You do?” Remi chuckled. “I find that hard to believe. You only ever complained.”

If it wasn’t about the dust or her ruined hemlines, it was something or someone else entirely. She would have a fit if Ben and Remi went off on their own, especially if Guillaume was not around to assuage her temper. Remi smiled to herself. She missed those days as well.

“I wasn’t the best of companions, I know that. But I can’t help but yearn for those early afternoons playing hide and seek.” Elise crossed her arms, forlorn as she looked longingly toward the past. “Being here as a grown woman is an entirely different experience.”

Remi nodded. “I know.”

“That’s why I wonder,” she started, “if he missed this, too.”

“What are you trying to get at, Elise?”

Her cousin looked up, sullen and small. “It won’t ever be like it was then. The two of us will be in different places in a few short months.”

“What do you mean? You’ll be across town, not the ocean!” Remi laughed, but Elise did not. Her expression sunk further into desolace.

“Hugo means to move us overseas.”

“What?” Remi asked. Their island was just off the coast, and though it was inconvenient at times, travel to the mainland wasn’t hard to do. “Where to?”

“Somewhere far,” Elise said. “He’s mentioned the Americas, New York. I’ve argued the point, but he’s reluctant to stay.”