What about Claire? She didn’t mention Claire.

  A quick rap at the door grabbed her attention. The door opened a crack, and a lovely young woman entered the room. “I just couldn’t wait any longer,” she said, a grin upon her face. Lady Ramsdale sighed, smiled, and beckoned her closer. “Sophia, this is Rose. Rose is my youngest daughter.” Lady Ramsdale reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear. It was pointed, just like hers. “She’s fae, too. But I finally found a way to keep one of my children.”

  “You have more children.” Sophia suddenly felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest. She’d let the Trusted Few take three of her children. And had kept the fourth. “Did you just try harder with the fourth one?”

  Lady Ramsdale’s brows knit. “Fourth?” She shook her head as though to clear it. “I have two daughters and a son of this world. One of my daughters, Rose, was born fae. The other two were not. The two who were not born fae—there was never any question about them remaining with me. The fae didn’t want them. They would have wanted Rose. They would have taken her from me. But something I did worked with this one. I don’t know why.” She stroked a hand down Rose’s hair. “It’s not her fault she was allowed to stay with me,” she said succinctly, as though warning Sophia to treat her sister with kindness.

  Of course, it wasn’t the girl’s fault she was the one her parents had kept.

  Sophia rubbed at her temples. A dull thump began behind her brows.

  “I know this is difficult for you,” her mother said. “It’s a lot to take in at once.”

  “I need some time to digest all of this.” Sophia shoved the counterpane back and got to her feet. “I’d like to talk to the Duke of Robinsworth. If he’s still here, as you mentioned.”

  Her mother’s eyes softened. “Of course, you would. Your head must be spinning with all this new information.”

  She had no idea.

  ***

  Ashley pulled his watch fob from his inner pocket by its golden chain and flipped it open. He’d been up all night, waiting for Sophia to wake. But within the room, all had been quiet since Lady Ramsdale had sent everyone else to their chambers for rest several hours before. As the clock struck six, he heard low mumbling from within the room.

  He got to his feet and crept closer to the door. He desperately wanted to know what was going on inside that room. He yawned into his cupped hand. Despite the fact that a butler had brought him a chair and tea during the night, he’d been waiting diligently for hours. Perhaps now he would get some answers.

  “I didn’t know dukes listened at keyholes,” a voice chirped from beside him. Ashley looked down into hazel eyes much like Sophia’s. The girl’s unbound hair had the same curl but was much lighter, more like Lord Ramsdale’s.

  Ashley inclined his head at her. “In my experience, dukes can do whatever they please, within reason.” He probably sounded like a sanctimonious arse, but he didn’t care.

  The girl giggled. Then she rapped lightly on the door and slipped inside. More conversation happened for a moment and then she left the room, with Lady Ramsdale at her side. The lady stopped in front of him. “She’s asking for you.”

  Ashley’s heart leapt.

  “This is a lot for her to absorb in a very short time. I told her things I didn’t even remember until I saw her.” She looked at him closely. “How do you feel about my daughter?”

  “Pardon me, my lady, but I think I should discuss that with your daughter before I discuss it with you.” He adopted his most imperious duke’s scowl. She didn’t seem intimidated. Perhaps Sophia had learned her impertinence from her mother.

  Her eyes twinkled. “Yes, I believe you should.” She stepped to the side and motioned him into the room.

  He entered to find Sophia staring out the window, wearing a dressing gown with the frilly white collar of her nightrail peeping from the neckline. “I’m a little underdressed,” she said, holding her hands out to the sides.

  He did the same. “Perhaps it’s me who’s overdressed.” He smiled at her. “Are you all right?”

  Suddenly, she rushed forward and hurled herself into his arms. He caught her to him and let her embrace him tightly as sobs wracked her body. His heart broke for her, yet he still held her close to his heart and let her vent her frustrations, her anger. He just let her cry. When she settled a bit, he carried her over to a chair and settled into it and arranged her in his lap so that her head rested on his shoulder.

  “Feel better?” he asked as he brushed her hair from her eyes.

  “No. Not really.” She sniffed.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She pointed to a silver casket that rested on the bed. “I suppose the answers are in that box.”

  Ashley didn’t fully understand. Or understand at all.

  She went on to explain. “It contains my mother’s memories. Apparently, when they took me from her, they took her memory of me as well.”

  “When who took you?”

  “The Trusted Few.” He must have looked confused because she continued. “The governing body of my world.” Her eyes danced from his mouth to his lips to his chin. “You know I’m not of this world.”

  “I’m beginning to understand that. But it scares the hell out of me,” he admitted.

  “Me, too,” she said on a heavy exhale. Then she got up and retrieved the casket. “Open it with me?”

  He would do anything she asked of him. “Of course.”

  She flicked the lid with her thumb and it flew open, as though some force inside was clambering to get out. Glitter shimmered and shone in the air until it began to take shape, and then, like the golden pictures she’d played over the boys’ heads in the village, it took the shape of shadowy, shimmery people who acted out the most prominent of her mother’s memories. But these pictures were accompanied by emotions. Emotions so strong they nearly stole Ashley’s breath. Regret. Pain. Longing. Agony. All tempered by love, compassion, and caring. He reached for Sophia’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

  Her mouth fell open as the truth became known to her, and a tear ran down her cheek. But a smile was also tugging at her lips, and she looked at him, her eyes shimmering almost as much as the glittery pictures did. “I never would have dreamed…”

  “Nor would I.” Was he dreaming? Would he wake from this and find it a figment of his imagination? Machinations of too much time spent alone? He looked down at her. She still clutched tightly to his hand. “Does this resolve things for you?”

  She snorted. “Not by half.”

  “Good, because I am mightily confused,” he admitted.

  “I don’t know what happens next,” she said, and he wanted to draw her to him and protect her with a sword and shield from all the things that were coming at her. But he didn’t have either. Nor would she welcome his interference.

  The glitter began to dissipate from the air, shooting like stars flying across the sky and then dissolving like the morning dew on his garden.

  He thought about it a moment. “Come back to the Hall with me. Take some time to absorb it all. To come to terms with it.”

  “I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” she said, and he could tell she wasn’t sold on the idea.

  His heart sank. “Marry me and then come home with me.”

  She shook her head and the corners of her mouth turned down. “I cannot.” That was all she said. Just that she could not. She could if she wanted to. Perhaps she just didn’t want to. Didn’t want to enough. He tried to come up with a reason for her to leave the family she’d never known. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he wanted her. He needed her. If only for a few days.

  “I have something that will make you change your mind.” He adjusted the fit of his rumpled coat and steeled himself. “I have someone who belongs to you within my walls
.”

  She startled. “Claire?” she asked. “Claire can take care of herself.”

  Who the devil was Claire? “No. Who is Claire?”

  Her brows knit together. “Then who?”

  “You will have to visit me to find out. But I will tell you that this person will be incredibly happy when you come to stake your claim.”

  “Stake my claim?” She looked confused. And a little vexed.

  “You will want what I have.”

  “Did I forget my dust?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “With all the dust at my estate, I doubt I would notice any you left behind.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But no, it’s living and breathing. A little fellow about two feet tall.”

  “You caught Ronald!” she cried. She put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot. “How the devil did you do that?”

  “Finn did it, actually. Then I freed him. And he bit me. And then I caught him again. I’d like to untie him, but he has really sharp teeth.”

  Sophia laughed and leaned forward, pressing her cheek over his heart for a moment, as though he alone could bolster her. He took a deep breath at the same time she did. “Set him free, Ashley. I cannot come to you.”

  “Why not?” He began to feel like a lost child at a carnival, desperate to find his way to the person to whom he belonged.

  She turned to face the window. “It will only prolong the hurt.” She spun back to face him. “Set him free.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She was quite adorable when she was vexed. “You’ll only do us both harm by keeping him.”

  “You can put a stop to it. Simply come and retrieve him.” He bent and kissed her forehead, despite the fact that it was wrinkled with what he supposed was worry. Or anger. He wasn’t certain which. But he forced himself to turn and leave the room.

  ***

  Sophia plucked a flower from a plant in Lord Ramsdale’s lovely garden and brought it to her nose, deeply inhaling its lavender scent. She let it envelop her as she tilted her head up toward the sun and let its warmth shine upon her skin.

  “You look just like your mother when you do that,” a voice said from a few feet away from her.

  Sophia startled and dropped the flower, which fell to the cobbled walk beneath her feet. “Allow me,” Lord Ramsdale said as he bent to retrieve it. He held it out to her, allowing it to twist and twirl between his fingers.

  “Thank you,” Sophia croaked. She reached out a tentative hand to take it from him.

  “It’s not that bad, now is it?” he asked suddenly, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed an apple and was choking on it with every word.

  “I suppose it could be worse,” Sophia twittered nervously.

  “I can assure you there’s nothing worse than finding out you have children you’ve never known, Sophia.” His voice grew stronger. “Absolutely nothing.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his. “Yes, there is. It’s living for twenty-six years without parents at all.”

  He took a moment to clear his throat and collect his wits. Then he sighed heavily. “If I could have changed it, I would.”

  “Did you not know the dangers going into it?” she asked. Her tone was sharp and she was well aware of it.

  He nodded slowly, as though he held some reticence about answering. “I knew the dangers. But your mother and I thought our love would transcend the odds. We were youthful. Full of folly. Ridiculously naive.”

  “What made you think you were that special?” she snorted.

  He plucked a flower of his own and spun it between his fingertips. “I couldn’t live in her world. I would have left this one in one beat of my heart. I swear it.” He looked into Sophia’s eyes, and she felt almost as though she could see into his soul. “But I couldn’t. So, it was your mother who had to sacrifice. We went a few years with no children at all. We planned it that way.”

  Warmth crept up Sophia’s cheeks.

  He chuckled at her discomfiture. “Perhaps your mother should have this discussion with you.”

  “Pray continue,” she said. “You tried not to have children.”

  He nodded. “But then we found out Amelia was expecting. She was over the moon with happiness.” He motioned toward a garden bench and encouraged Sophia to sit with him. She did so with hesitance, not certain whether or not she was prepared to let down her guard. When he was settled beside her, he continued his tale.

  “She began to use her magic again. She had no dust—they’d taken that from her when they clipped her wings.” He shook his head, sadness clouding his features. “I think it would have been easier for them to take her life than her wings. But that is not the point of this conversation.” He pressed on. “They clipped her wings. And took her dust. But she still had magic within her. She used every spare bit of it to protect you. But it wasn’t enough.”

  “There was nothing anyone could do,” Sophia said. “You’d made the choice for her to leave the fae. You must accept the consequences.” She hoped she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. She probably did. More the pity.

  “They took our memories of you. It was like you never existed. Not until your mother laid eyes upon you last night.” He reached out one hand and covered Sophia’s with his. “The moment she saw you and Marcus, she knew you were ours. And so did I. It took some time for the memories to return. But now they’re there, like they’d never left.” He patted her hand. “Please accept my apology for letting them take you.”

  His voice was choked again, and he got up from the bench, looked out over his garden, and didn’t look in Sophia’s direction. Perhaps he was trying to compose himself.

  “Have you seen Marcus?” Sophia asked.

  Lord Ramsdale, her father, nodded. “He feels very much the same way you did, I’m afraid. I spoke to him briefly, but we need to talk more.”

  “It will take some time,” Sophia tried. Time. It would take a millennium. “I’m willing to try.”

  He spun quickly to face her. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

  “I’m not of this world, however, so I cannot stay here.”

  “But you can come and go at will.” He looked… hopeful.

  “Not quite at will. But on the night of the moonful, I can pass through the portal. Unless they oust me from the land of the fae, too. That is still to be determined.”

  “The Duke of Robinsworth?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “What is your relationship with him?”

  “Do you plan to play the role of father now?” she asked.

  “I plan to do more than play at it,” he said. Sophia’s heart leapt.

  “He was my mission. Or at least his daughter was.”

  “Were you able to help them?”

  She shrugged. Had she? She wasn’t certain. She hadn’t solved the mystery of his wife’s death. “He plays the pianoforte. So, I was inexplicably drawn to him.” Although, now that she thought about it, the token her mother had left within her was so she could find her parents. Why did Ashley’s music affect her so heartily as well?

  “The spell was to bring you to a loved one. One who has the power to love you with heart and soul, my dear,” he informed her, his eyes softening as understanding seeped into her. “Perhaps there’s more to your duke than you think.”

  “There’s no such thing as predestination,” she bit out. She refused to believe that she was predestined to find Ashley and forced to love him. Forced to leave her land the way her mother had. Forced to give up any children she and Ashley created. Anger grew and grew within her.

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with predestination. I think it’s a spell gone awry. I’m certain your mother didn’t think that you would find us and find a man who loved you all at once when she cast the spell.”


  “The very thought is a little absurd, is it not?”

  He chuckled. “Nothing is absurd when you’re dealing with the fae.”

  Wasn’t it? “I have to go and see Ashley at some point. He has my garden gnome.”

  Her father looked perplexed. “Ronald?” he finally asked. “I haven’t seen him in ages.”

  “I suppose not,” Sophia said. If he hadn’t seen his children, he certainly wouldn’t have seen Ronald.

  “Hateful little creature. Attacked me once in the garden when your mother and I were courting. Thought God had loosed the hounds of hell upon me, and then the little nuisance bit my ankle. I still have a scar.” A grin tipped the corners of his lips despite the vehemence of his tale.

  “He’s loyal to a fault.”

  “How did Robinsworth end up with him?”

  “I’m not certain. But he bade me retrieve him.”

  “I’ll accompany you, if you like.”

  She smiled at him and shook her head. “I should probably do it myself. I have some things I need to say to him.” She patted his hand this time. “Don’t worry. I’ll take Margaret with me.”

  “Margaret wasn’t very adept at keeping your mother out of trouble, if I remember correctly. Perhaps she has gotten more cautious as she has aged.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a conversation with Marcus similar to the one that we just had. If I can locate him, that is.” He lumbered to his feet and smiled down at her. “Shall I escort you inside?”

  “No, thank you, Lord Ramsdale,” she began. His face fell.

  “Will you ever call me Father? Or did we botch things up too badly?”

  “I don’t even know how long I’ll be in this world.”

  “For quite some time, if your duke has anything to do with it.”

  “He’s not my duke,” Sophia began.

  “Certainly, he’s not,” he said with a chuckle. Then he bent and placed a chaste, comforting kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit.”