“Because I like you. And because you clearly love my great-great-grandmother’s paintings. I wanted you to know who really filled the pages of the books you cherish so much. I’m trusting you with a great family secret.” He looked at her intently. “Am I right to trust you?”

“It just seems so wrong to put them back in the trunk. The world should see—”

He cut her off before she could muster another argument.

“Can I trust you?” he asked again.

She sighed. What could she do? “Yes,” she said at last. “Yes. You can trust me.”

He smiled then. “Thank you.”

Heba’s sketchbooks were placed back in the trunk with loving care and the lid locked. But even though they were out of sight, they were definitely not out of Nory’s mind, and she felt sure they were still on Isaac’s mind too. Because despite the subject being changed for more lighthearted topics, the air was still heavy with the secret in the locked box.

Nory wanted to talk more about it. She had so deeply admired Serena’s talent, but Serena De-Veer was a sham, a common crook. There was a hole in the provenance of her books that needed filling. She wanted to know about Heba: Who taught her to paint? What drove her passion? What was her life like, working in service for a wealthy family, the kind of family who could promise you a new life, only to betray you horribly and leave you powerless? But she could tell that Isaac didn’t want to talk more about it. Not right now at least.

The moon and stars were covered over with cloud as Isaac walked her back to the castle. The sky and landscape one dark mass, as if someone had scribbled out the world with a black marker.

“Will you be helping out on the hack tomorrow? You seem to get roped into all sorts of non-gardening events.”

“I’ll be there to help get you all saddled up and then I’ll go back to my actual job. I don’t normally have to get involved in castle matters, but we’re short-staffed and the marquis wants to make a good impression on your party. We get plenty of weekend parties throughout the summer, and weddings, of course. But not normally a weeklong house party plus wedding. Three or four gigs like yours a year would bring in some much-needed cash.”

“The castle does all right, doesn’t it?”

“The castle is a money pit. The maintenance alone would make your eyes water, and that’s before any improvements are made. So, it’s all hands on deck to impress the toffs in the hopes that they’ll tell their toff friends, and then maybe I’ll finally get a budget for the lost garden.”