The sun was setting slowly over the rolling green hills of the English countryside. The sky was painted in deep, beautiful shades of orange, pink, and dark purple. The traveling carriage rolled smoothly along the wide, winding dirt road.

Inside the carriage, Delaney sat quietly. Her hands rested in her lap, her fingers twisting the soft fabric of her traveling dress. Her heart was beating a fast, steady rhythm against her ribs. She looked out the glass window. The tall, familiar oak trees began to appear on the sides of the road.

They were finally here.

Oakridge manor. The vacation house for the family of three and Delaney’s true home.

The carriage turned onto the long, sweeping gravel driveway. The sound of the wooden wheels crunching against the small stones was loud in the quiet evening air. The large, imposing structure of Oakridge Manor came into full view. It stood proudly against the setting sun, its many glass windows reflecting the beautiful orange light.

Aunt Renee reached across the carriage. She gently placed her warm, gloved hand over Delaney’s shaking fingers.

"We are home, my dear," Aunt Renee said softly, her voice filled with a quiet, comforting strength.

Delaney took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. "Yes. We are home."

The carriage slowed down and finally came to a complete stop right in the center of the large, circular stone courtyard.

Immediately, the front doors of the manor opened wide. Warm, golden light from the newly lit candles inside spilled out onto the stone steps. A footman, dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, walked quickly down the steps.

The footman grabbed the brass handle of the carriage door and pulled it open. He quickly lowered the small metal steps. He stood straight and offered his white-gloved hand to assist the ladies.

Delaney placed her hand in his. She stepped carefully down from the carriage. Her shoes touched the hard stones of the courtyard.

She did not walk toward the house right away. She stopped. She let go of the footman’s hand and looked around the large, circular space.

The cool evening wind brushed against her face, stirring the dark curls of her hair.

This was the very courtyard where everything had changed.

A sudden vivid memory rushed into her mind. It was a memory from twenty long years ago.

She remembered a dark, terrible, rainy night. The sky had been pitch black, filled with loud, angry thunder and bright flashes of lightning.

She remembered standing on these exact same wet stones. She was just a little girl, wearing a warm woolen cloak. Her small shoes had been covered in cold, brown mud.

She remembered her father, Baron Arthur Kingsley. He had lifted her up into his strong, safe arms. He had wrapped a thick blanket tightly around her shoulders to protect her from the freezing rain. He had kissed her cheek and placed her gently onto the velvet seat of the carriage. Then, her mother, Genevieve, had climbed in beside her, holding her hand. Her father entering , closing the carriage door with a loud, final click.

That rainy night was the very last time she had ever felt truly safe with her parents. It was the night they took the fateful journey that ended in the terrible crash in the woods.

Delaney closed her eyes tightly, pushing the dark, painful memory away. She did not want to focus on the sad night they left. She wanted to remember the happy days they had lived here.

She opened her eyes and looked toward the wide stone steps leading up to the grand front doors.

Another memory, bright and warm, flooded her mind.

It was a sunny, beautiful summer afternoon.

Young Delaney was sitting on the green grass near the edge of the courtyard, playing with her dolls. She remembered looking up at those stone steps.

Her mother, Genevieve, was walking slowly down the steps. She was wearing a beautiful, light blue summer dress. The soft silk had rustled gently with every step she took.

Genevieve had a wide, happy, glowing smile on her face.

She was walking down to greet and welcome her father.

Arthur had just returned from a long trip to London. He had ridden his large brown horse into the courtyard. When he saw Genevieve walking down the steps, his face had lit up with pure joy. He had jumped down quickly from his horse, not even waiting for a groom to take the reins. He had run to the bottom of the steps. He had caught Genevieve by the waist, spun her around in a joyful circle, and kissed her deeply on the cheek.

Young Delaney had watched them, feeling completely surrounded by their immense, unbreakable love.

"Delaney?"

Aunt Renee’s soft voice pulled her back to the present moment.

Delaney blinked. The vision of her parents faded, leaving only the quiet evening courtyard and the waiting servants.

Delaney turned and smiled at her aunt. "I am here, Aunt Renee."

Aunt Renee stepped down from the carriage. Two strong footmen moved quickly to the back of the carriage. They began to carefully unload the trunks, carrying them easily up the stone steps and into the house.

Delaney and Aunt Renee walked together across the courtyard. They climbed the wide stone steps. Delaney placed her hand on the cold stone railing, feeling a deep sense of ownership. This was her land. This was her family’s legacy.

They walked through the open double doors and entered the foyer.

The marble floors had been scrubbed until they shined like glass. A massive, warm fire crackled brightly in the large stone fireplace, chasing away the winter chill. The air smelled of fresh beeswax polish, clean linen, and sweet lavender.

Standing in the center of the foyer was a line of neat, respectful servants. They all stood with straight backs and polite expressions.

At the front of the line stood the new butler. He was an older man with neat gray hair and a very kind, professional face. He wore a perfectly pressed black coat.

The new butler stepped forward to welcome them.

"Welcome, my lady," the butler spoke. His voice was deep, smooth, and highly respectful. He placed his hand over his chest and bowed deeply to Delaney.

He then turned slightly to Aunt Renee.

"Welcome, Madame." He offered her the exact same polite, deep bow.

Two young maids stepped forward quickly.

They gently took Delaney’s traveling pelisse and her warm leather gloves. They took Aunt Renee’s coat and hat, folding them carefully over their arms.

The butler turned his full attention back to Delaney. He stood straight and offered a warm, reassuring smile.

"My name is Mr. Silas, my lady," the butler introduced himself formally. "Mr. Simmons from the Duke of Ford’s household has told us all exactly what to do. He provided very clear instructions regarding your comfort and the proper running of this estate."

Mr. Silas gestured proudly to the line of clean, attentive servants standing behind him.

"We have been working very hard to prepare the manor for your arrival," Mr. Silas continued. "We will be working here from now on, completely at your service. We are deeply honored to serve the Lady of this manor."