She pauses her lipstick application. “Elaine Evangeline Davenport.”

I look down at the floor, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“I married your grandfather because it was my duty. My mother made the match, and I went along with it because I knew it was my responsibility.”

“And did you ever lament not having a choice in the matter?”

I think of her relationship with Margaret, of how different her life might have been had she been allowed to follow her heart.

“Believe it or not, no. I hold no regrets. People view marriage through rose-colored glasses these days. Life is rarely as perfect as it seems in storybooks. Be glad I chose Royce for you and not Mr. Wentworth.”

My jaw drops.

“Mr. Wentworth is nearly seventy years old!”

She rolls her eyes. “Exactly. Now finish dressing. I want to ensure your hair lays nicely once we take it down from those rollers.”

By the time I’m finished applying my makeup and brushing out my curls, there’s still a half hour before we’re expected to be at dinner.

My grandmother, acutely aware of social etiquettes, refuses to let us go down to the dining room early.

I could stay up here and read, but I’ve already done so much reading this afternoon. After leaving Royce on the trail, I came back up and holed up in my room, careful not to wake my grandmother from her nap as I passed by.

“Could I go down to finish my walk? I didn’t make it far earlier.”

She looks toward the window and frowns. “The sun has set.”

“I know, but I’m curious to see what the grounds look like in the moonlight.”

I can tell she wants to say no, but she relents. “Fine. But don’t be late. There’s a five-minute window in which it’s appropriate to arrive for the meal.”

I’m mouthing the words as she continues, having heard her speak them so many times.

“Never arrive early. Aim to be precisely on time, though five minutes late will do as well. However, ten minutes late and you run the risk of offending your host.”

“I understand,” I assure her as I lean in to kiss her cheek.

She rests her hand on my hair, keeping me close to her for longer than necessary.

“You look lovely, my dear. That color suits you.”

We’re both wearing green for the evening, though my long dress is much lighter than hers, nearly the same shade as my eyes. It’s cinched at my chest and waist, and the structured skirt flares only slightly at my hips, creating an hourglass illusion. The neckline in front is demure, but it dips low in the back so that my soft curls tickle my skin as I walk down the staircase, toward the gardens that lead to the main road in the distance.

I’m taking this route on purpose. I’m assuming guests will stay clustered on the lake side of the property, enjoying a pre-dinner drink, gossiping and mingling. I’ll have to endure time with them all soon enough. For now, I walk slowly with my arms wrapped tightly across my chest, staving off the slight chill in the air. It’s darker out here than I expected. The glow of the villa, the lights of distant houses along the lakeshore, and the sliver of moonlight are all I have to guide my way.