“She’s a bloodthirsty killer, Amelia. Her upbringing can’t be blamed for all her wrong deeds,” Byron said.

Amelia took her eyes away from the letter and got a faraway look in her eye. “It was strange. That day we all met in the castle in Scotland, I got the feeling Lucia knew when she walked out to meet Victorija that day that she would die. Like it was part of her destiny.”

“Hmm.” Byron knew she was right. It had felt like that. “It still doesn’t make her worthy of a chance to redeem herself,” Byron said as she pulled Amelia down onto her lap.

“I will say one thing.” Amelia placed her arms around Byron’s neck. “The first time I met Victorija, when she faked the accident to get close to me, she talked about pain and said she knew every shade of it, and I felt that was true, despite all the other lies she told.”

Byron sighed. “I always felt that if I had been unlucky enough to be brought up by Gilbert, I’d be exactly like Victorija.”

Amelia kissed her on the lips. “I don’t think so. You’re the most noble person I’ve ever known.”

Byron tapped the letter with her fingers. “I suppose I have to follow her wishes, but how I’ll do that, I don’t know. First things first, I have to find her. Since she ran after killing Lucia, Victorija has gone to ground. I’ll need to put some people on the case.”

“That’s a start. Then if you find her, you can decide what happens next,” Amelia said.

“I’ll call Alexis to come and see me. She can put the feelers out for information.”

Byron quickly dialled Alexis’s number and asked her to come to her office.

“I meant to ask—have you found anybody who can help unlock my past?” Amelia asked.

Before she died, Lucia informed her that she had witch heritage, and it became apparent that the parents she grew up with had adopted her. Amelia had exhibited some magical powers, and she was determined to learn how to control them and to find out about her real family.

“I’ve asked my lawyers to make some enquiries, and Bhal has quietly put out the word asking for any information. Don’t worry, we’ll find out about your past.”

“I need to know,” Amelia said.

Byron took her hand and kissed it. “I know, and you will. Give me time. Anyway, on to more cheerful matters. It’s your big night.”

A huge smile grew on Amelia’s face. Since leaving college she had worked in her uncle’s tailors on Savile Row, honing her craft, but when the premises next door to her uncle’s shop became available, she spotted a chance to make her dream come true.

Amelia had always most enjoyed tailoring for women, and as more women were turning to dapper suits and ties, she saw an opportunity to fulfil her dream and open a tailoring shop just for them.

Byron had handled the sale, and after outfitting the shop and recruiting staff, the opening night was here. The press, fashion designers, celebrities, and businesspeople likely to be customers were invited.