They retraced their steps back to his car and entered Millbrook through a very ordinary-looking rear door. As they stepped into the cool interior, Gabriel let his eyes adjust to the light after the brightness of the morning. They were in the family rooms, as the maintenance and custodial staff liked to call them—the suite of a half-dozen modern rooms where his grandfather lived and any family that came to visit stayed. In the rest of the house, the hall and ballrooms, library and guest rooms, music room and morning rooms had been painstakingly restored to their former Regency-era glory, making it popular with filmmakers and those wishing for a fairly-tale setting for their nuptials. Part of the original kitchens had even been restored, while the other, separate half had been renovated to provide a state-of-the-art kitchen for event caterers.

The kitchen that Gabriel and Lia were now in was a small, simple one, featuring modern maple cabinetry, marble countertops, and stainless-steel appliances. He started for the narrow door on the far side only to be brought up short by a figure that sailed through with an exclamation of delight.

“Gabriel!” the woman greeted him with a broad smile. “I’m so happy you are here. It’s been too long since you visited us.”

“I know,” Gabriel agreed, embracing the woman and inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla that he had always associated with her.

“And you brought a guest.” She pulled back and turned her radiant smile on Lia.

“Abigail, this is Aurelia Leclaire. She is a client,” he said, “who is…helping me with some research.”

“Call me Lia, please.” Lia stepped forward and extended her hand.

“And this is Abigail Denworth,” Gabriel added. “The soul responsible for keeping Millbrook upright and all Seymours sane since 1972.”

“I’m the housekeeper,” Abigail laughed, ignoring Lia’s extended hand and enveloping her in a welcoming hug.

“She’s family,” Gabriel corrected.

Abigail released Lia and patted her chestnut hair that was liberally threaded with grey. “If you’re hoping to see your grandfather, he’s in the reading room,” she told him, her blue eyes twinkling. “He’s already speculating what new book you’ve brought him this time.”

Gabriel smiled. It was a long-standing tradition. “I’ve actually brought him something a little different. Some old photos.”

“Oh? What sort of photos?”

“Some pictures of his sister from before the war.” And during, he thought, though he didn’t voice that.

“Oh, he’ll like that, I think.” Abigail clasped her hands together. “Such a bond, that William had with his sister. Like two peas in a pod, my mum often said. She spoke of Sophie often.”

“Abigail’s mum was the housekeeper at Millbrook before Abigail took over her duties,” Gabriel explained to Lia.

“Could I see the photos?” Abigail asked. “I love looking at bits of history from this house.”