Delaney looked at the respectful faces of her new staff. They did not look at her with pity, and they certainly did not look at her with the cruel disdain that Eunice’s servants always had.

They looked at her with genuine respect and eager readiness.

Delaney nodded her head gracefully. She felt a warm swell of pride in her chest.

"Thank you, Mr. Silas," Delaney replied, her voice clear and steady. "The house looks absolutely beautiful. You have all done a wonderful job. I am very grateful for your hard work."

The servants smiled slightly, clearly pleased by her kind, gentle praise.

"Dinner will be ready in exactly half an hour, my lady," Mr. Silas informed her efficiently. "The cook has prepared a warm, hearty meal after your long journey. You and Madame Dufort may refresh yourselves in your rooms. The footmen have already carried your trunks upstairs."

"That sounds perfect," Aunt Renee said happily, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"A maid will show you to the guest wing, Aunt Renee," Delaney told her. She turned back to the butler. "I know my way. I will go upstairs now."

Delaney walked away from the foyer. She stepped onto the sweeping staircase. Her hand slid smoothly up the polished wooden banister. Every single step she took felt like a step back into her rightful life.

She reached the second floor. She turned and began to walk down the long, wide hallway.

The hallway was lined with tall windows on one side and doors on the other. Beautiful woven rugs ran down the center of the polished floor. Small glass lamps were lit along the walls, casting a soft, golden glow over the corridor.

As Delaney walked slowly down the hallway, her childhood memories flooded her mind once again. They came back to her so clearly, it felt as though she had simply stepped back in time.

She remembered being a very small girl, perhaps only five or six years old. She was wearing a simple white cotton play dress.

She remembered her father chasing her down this very hallway.

Arthur had been pretending to be a slow clumsy bear. He had walked with stomping steps, making loud, playful growling noises that echoed against the wooden walls.

Young Delaney had run away from him as fast as her little legs could carry her. Her small, soft indoor shoes had slipped slightly on the floor. She remembered looking back over her shoulder, her face flushed with excitement. Her pure, loud, joyful laughter had filled the entire corridor.

"I am going to catch you, little rabbit!" Arthur had shouted happily.

He had lunged forward. He had caught her easily around her small waist. He had lifted her high up into the air, spinning her around in a fast, dizzying circle. Delaney had screamed with pure delight, reaching her small hands out to touch the high ceiling.

Delaney smiled at the beautiful memory. The silence of the past years had finally been broken by the echoes of that happy laughter. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

She continued walking down the long hallway. She passed the doors to the various guest rooms and the small sitting rooms. Finally, she reached the very end of the corridor.

She stood before a set of large,dark double doors.

This was the master bedroom. It was the largest, grandest room in the entire house.

Delaney reached her hand out and turned the brass handle. She pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The maids had done an absolutely incredible job. The room was perfectly spotless. A large, warm fire was burning brightly in the grand marble fireplace, making the room feel incredibly cozy. The velvet curtains were drawn back, allowing the last purple light of the evening to filter through the glass. The large, four-poster bed in the center of the room was made with completely fresh, crisp white linens and thick blankets.

Delaney walked slowly into the center of the room. She looked around, taking in every detail.

She walked over to the small, elegant sitting area near the large windows. There was a plush velvet sofa and a small, polished wooden tea table.

Another memory, quiet and deeply loving, surfaced in her mind.

She remembered a peaceful Sunday morning. She had walked into this room carrying a small wooden toy.

Her parents were sitting together on that exact velvet sofa near the window. Arthur was holding a large, folded newspaper, trying to read the morning news from London.

Genevieve was sitting very close to him, holding a delicate porcelain teacup.

Genevieve had leaned over. With a mischievous, playful smile, she had quickly stolen a piece of warm, buttered toast right off Arthur’s small breakfast plate.

Arthur had lowered his newspaper slowly. He had looked at his wife, pretending to be highly offended and deeply angry. He had narrowed his eyes and frowned a highly exaggerated, silly frown.

Genevieve had simply laughed and took a bite of the stolen toast.

Arthur could not maintain his fake anger. His stern frown had quickly melted into a soft, completely adoring smile. He had dropped the newspaper onto the floor. He had reached out, wrapped his strong arm around Genevieve’s waist, and pulled her smoothly onto his lap. He had kissed her cheek, completely ignoring his ruined breakfast.

Young Delaney had sat quietly on the soft rug near the door, playing with her wooden toy. She had watched them tease and love each other. She had felt the unbreakable bond between them. It was a bond built on true respect and devotion.

It was exactly the kind of love she now shared with Rowan.

Delaney smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection for the parents she had lost, and the future she was about to build.

She turned away from the window and walked toward the large fireplace.

She stopped and looked up at the wall directly above the marble mantelpiece.

There, hanging proudly on the wall, side by side, were two large, beautifully painted oil portraits.

Mr. Silas must have ordered the frames polished and the paintings cleaned.

Delaney looked at the portraits.

On the left was her father, Baron Arthur Kingsley. He was painted wearing a fine, dark blue coat. His dark hair was neat, and his eyes were kind, steady, and filled with strength. He looked exactly as she remembered him.

On the right was her mother, Genevieve Kingsley. She was painted wearing a soft, pale pink dress adorned with delicate white lace. Her dark hair was styled elegantly, and she wore a gentle, warm, highly maternal smile. Her eyes looked directly out of the canvas, full of light and love.

Delaney stood before the warm fire. She looked up at the two beautiful faces. She raised her hand and rested it gently over her heart.

"Mama, Papa," Delaney spoke aloud. Her voice was soft, clear, and filled with absolute peace. "I am home."

Then, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. The long carriage ride, the deep emotional memories, and the ongoing recovery from her injuries all caught up to her at once. Her eyes felt incredibly heavy.

She turned away from the fireplace. She looked at the massive, comfortable four-poster bed in the center of the room. It looked incredibly inviting.

Delaney did not bother to call for a maid to help her undress. She did not bother to take off her traveling dress or her soft indoor shoes. She was simply too tired.

With a sudden, burst of childish energy, Delaney took three quick steps forward.

She jumped into the bed exactly like how she used to do when she was a little girl.

She flew through the air for a brief second and landed squarely in the very center of the massive, soft mattress.

She bounced slightly as she landed. The crisp white linens felt wonderfully cool and smooth beneath her hands. The thick mattress was incredibly soft, perfectly supporting her tired body.

She let out a long, happy, deeply contented sigh.

She rolled over onto her side. She reached out and grabbed one of the large, soft, feather-filled pillows. She pulled the pillow tightly against her chest, hugging it securely in her arms.