The walls of the stable fell away, the ground disappeared beneath her feet, the air in her chest flew out that it might see for itself. As if walking out of her dreams, William de Wendenal stood in front of her.

My God, someone said, probably him. Arable?

It took every bit of her strength to believe it could be true, but when she blinked he was still there, impossibly there. His cheeks were thinner, his neck was fuller, but every nuance of his face was unchanged, and a thousand emotions reached through time to punch her distinctly in the throat.

She said his name, her voice broke and tears poured out. She covered her mouth and retreated, but he came to her in an instant, his arms surrounding her, shutting out the rest of the world.

Over the years she’d imagined a moment like this, though with far less frequency as time rolled on. In some of those fantasies she’d stomp her feet and demand an explanation, while in others she’d remain aloof and let him grovel for forgiveness. But even in the beginning, those would have been acts. All she had now were reactions, and the naked joy of seeing him had flushed every other thought from her mind.

“What are you doing here?” William asked, and she pulled him in tighter. There was no telling what would come next, but she could make this moment last just a little bit longer. He tried to release her, but laughed when she wouldn’t let him, then finally pulled back long enough to look her in the face.

The years were evident, but the comfort of the young man she had once fallen in love with was still there. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

“I’m not here. You can’t tell your father.”

“My father? No, of course not. I haven’t seen him, I don’t intend to.”

“Good,” she said and grabbed him again, but mostly to wipe her tears on his chest. “Thank you.”

“It’s been so long,” he said, distracted by something outside. “You never wrote back.”

“I left Derbyshire,” she said quietly. “You know I had to.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. Because he knew she was right. He knew exactly how far his father had gone to remove the name of Burel from the earth. She’d grown a comfortably thick callus over the idea that William could have done anything to stop it, and wouldn’t let him ruin that thought by doing something as silly as talking about it.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said hurriedly. “I heard you joined the war.”