She wouldn’t allow him to get too close. Bennett fought back frustration and reminded himself he was in for the long haul. “No, actually I haven’t been this way in quite a while.” When they reached the top of a rise, he stopped. Her gelding was content to busy himself with the grass alongside the path. Beside her, Dracula nearly shivered with energy. She thought she felt the same impatience from Bennett.

“A little distance changes things,” he murmured.

Following his gaze, she looked back at the palace. From here it looked like an exquisite child’s toy, a magnificent dollhouse a pampered child might find near the tree on Christmas morning. To the east was the sea, still hidden from view by the cliffs and trees and barely heard. Like the palace, it hardly seemed real.

“Do you need to get away from it so badly?” Hannah asked him quietly.

“Sometimes.” It no longer surprised him that she read his moods. With a hand firm on the reins, he controlled the stallion and continued to look at his home. “I had my time at Oxford, and at sea. When I was away, I missed Cordina so badly it was like an ache. In the past six months, past year, I’ve felt a restlessness, a waiting for something to happen.”

They both thought of Deboque.

“Often in England, especially at this time of year, I’ll complain about the cold and the damp.” She shifted in the saddle then smiled as she thought of her home. “I’ll look out the window and think I’d almost sell my soul for a week of warm, sunny days. Then, when I’m away, I begin to miss the fog and the mists and the smells of London.”

They began to walk the horses again while she cast her mind back to England. “There’s a man who sells roasted chestnuts just around the corner from our house. You can buy a little bag and warm your hands on them and smell them, just smell them long before you ever eat them.” Remembering made her smile again, but she had no idea how wistfully. “Sometimes I’d wonder how it could be Christmastime anywhere without roasted chestnuts.”

“I didn’t know you missed England so much.”

Nor had she until that moment. “One always misses home. Our hearts are always there.” And what she was, all that she had done, had always been for England first.

“I’ve often wondered how difficult it was for Reeve,” Bennett said. The sounds of the sea became louder as they moved their way east. “Although he and Brie spend nearly six months every year at their farm in America. I know for Brie it’s as much home as Cordina is.”

“For many, real contentment comes with acclimation.” Hadn’t it been so for her, all of her adult life?