“For your own protection,” he said, smiling. “Just call me insurance.”

He held me firmly, his handsome face closer to mine. If I turned completely, our lips would surely meet. My mother’s eyes would widen with such astonishment that she could tear her lids. But truthfully, I liked his being this close, liked the sense of strength I could feel in his arm. Some women, especially my mother’s close friends, complained about how domineering men were, but I would gladly bathe in this warm, firm protection.

After we had left the city, I saw houses occasionally, but there were mostly trees and empty fields. As the twilight sky darkened, Lucas slowed the carriage. The half-moon cast a wide amber glow over everything in front of and around us. I didn’t question Garland’s comment about Foxworth’s personality changing when the sun went down. I always felt that night changed the world in subtle but occasionally startling ways. An ordinary maple tree looked more spidery. Sometimes gaps between leaves with some stars behind them resembled eyes. As a child, I always wondered where the birds went at night. There were night birds and often bats, but where did the other birds go to sleep, and why was it so hard to see them? My mother fled from such questions, but my father smiled and made up answers, saying things like “They flew to the other side of the world where there was light. Where else would they go?”

However, at the moment, I worried about whether nighttime was best to see Foxworth Hall for the first time. Maybe I wouldn’t like its evening personality. Even houses, especially large ones, were often gloomy, washed in deep shadows, looming rather than looking majestic and regal the way I had imagined Garland’s family home to be. I had told myself I was on my way to see a castle gleaming with gold and light, a romantic place in which a young prince lived.

The road wound upward. As we drew closer to the hills, I noted how the trees paraded up and down between them. I mentioned it to Garland.

“The Foxworths planted many of them,” he said, “to serve as windbreaks. They also hold back the heavier drifts of snow.” He smiled. “It’s as if we had the power to control nature itself, don’t you think?”

Once I set eyes on Foxworth Hall rising against the night sky as we drew closer, I understood Garland’s arrogance. His home sat above and looked down on the far smaller houses splattered almost randomly beneath it. For a part of the day, Foxworth literally blocked the sun and cast long, seemingly ever-creeping deep shadows over so many of these homes and their residents. Even my father would be intimidated as he approached and then entered this mansion. How powerful and rich must be the man who owns all this, he would surely think. I know I did.