As she hurried along, she kept her eyes fixed upon the white frog, its golden crown gleaming brightly in the starlight. And, suddenly, soft music caught her ears. Music she recognised from the Fire Gardens at Raven Hall. Music from the Carousel of Icicles.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Rosa’s garden had never been busier than it was that final night. The queue for the carousel went all the way round the lake. There was a separate queue – even longer – for the horse with the golden ribbon, the only one that could take its rider back to change something from their past. The air above the carousel shimmered with multicoloured lights as small moments from the past rewrote themselves.

Rosa’s New Year’s Eve gown was one of the most beautiful she had ever worn. Made from pale-blue satin, it was bordered in luxurious swansdown, with a low corsage and sleeves that fitted tightly to the elbow before opening into dramatic long folds that were edged with more swansdown and cascaded halfway down Rosa’s skirts. A golden headdress flashed in the firelight, studded with rows of icy diamonds that matched the jewels at Rosa’s throat.

Eustace did not appear in the garden for its last opening. Rosa had left the ravens behind with instructions to keep watch over him, but had not confined him to his room, or even the house. He had chosen to confine himself. He was the subject of much gossip now and she guessed he did not wish to suffer the curious, scandalised glances. He would probably keep his curtains firmly drawn and stay well away from the windows. But that did not prevent the guests glancing frequently up at the house, hoping to catch a shadowed glimpse of the disgraced duke.

The hours sped by in a swirl of champagne and starlight until, finally, midnight was upon them and the guests all quietened to bid goodbye to the old year and welcome in the new one. Rosa stood to one side, rigid with hope and dread. What if it wasn’t enough? Surely Beatrice would not win the competition now, but what if, after all this, someone else triumphed instead? One of the other gardens in Paris or Venice perhaps? One with jars of moonlight or precious mermaid pearls …

The hush deepened as Rosa’s garden clocks chimed out the hours. The new year rolled in and her guests cheered and celebrated, but there was nothing to suggest that Rosa had won. There was no hint of the competition coming to an end at all. That night her garden closed shortly after midnight and it was a relief to be alone in the grounds at last when everyone had finally left.