The journey home passed peacefully. Agatha chatted animatedly for much of the ride, while Annie responded with distracted smiles. Although she tried to pay attention, her mind kept returning to her conversation with Eleanor and, above all, to the little book hidden at the bottom of her handbag.
When they reached the farm, she helped her mother with the household chores and worked with Agatha in the kitchen, trying to focus on her responsibilities. However, whenever she found a quiet moment, she remembered the title engraved in gold letters on the cover of that mysterious volume. Her curiosity grew little by little until she found herself wondering how long she could resist opening it.
When she returned to her room, Annie couldn't help thinking again about the book Eleanor had given her. Curiosity finally overcame prudence, and after making sure no one was watching, she carefully closed the door.
She approached the small trunk beside the bed, cautiously lifted the lid, and took out the volume she had hidden among her belongings.
She held it in her hands for a few moments, studying the cover with a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue before daring to open it.
“I'll just take a quick look...” she murmured to herself, trying to convince herself.
She sat on the edge of the bed and slowly opened the first page.
As she continued reading, she discovered that the book discussed marriage, trust between husband and wife, and the intimacy they shared once they joined their lives together. Some of the explanations struck her as curious; others made her look away with a blush impossible to hide.
Every so often, discreet illustrations accompanied the text. Annie barely dared look at them for more than a few seconds before quickly turning the page, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.
“How embarrassing...” she whispered, bringing a hand to her face.
Even so, curiosity kept winning out again and again, and she returned to the pages she had just turned.
Without realizing it, her imagination began filling in what the book only hinted at.
And, to her own surprise, the face that appeared in her thoughts wasn't Lucian's.
It was Alaric's.
She tried to push the image away, but the more she did so, the clearer it became in her mind. The book's illustrations had awakened an imagination she had never before allowed herself to explore, and, much to her own surprise, she began imagining herself beside Alaric, taking the place of the figures who appeared on the pages.
The closeness between them, the way he looked at her, and the tenderness with which he always treated her blended with these new sensations she was only beginning to understand. Thinking of him that way made her hold her breath, and the intensity of her own thoughts took her by surprise. She felt her cheeks burning and slammed the book shut, completely ashamed of herself.
“What am I thinking?”
She hid her face in her hands. For several minutes she remained motionless, trying to calm her racing heart. When she finally regained her composure, she carefully put it away at the bottom of the trunk, concealing it among her belongings so her mother wouldn't happen upon it by accident.
However hard she tried to focus on something else, the image of Alaric continued appearing in her thoughts, provoking a mixture of embarrassment and confusion she didn't know how to push away.
She had barely managed to calm herself when a soft knock on her bedroom door made her sit up in surprise.
“Annie?” Mrs. Carter's voice sounded from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mrs. Carter entered with a kindly smile.
“Dear, Mr. Ravenscroft has come to see you.”
Annie's eyes widened in surprise.
“Mr. Alaric?”
“He's waiting for you downstairs.”
Her heart gave a jolt. At that exact moment, after everything that had just passed through her imagination, she pressed a hand to her cheeks, certain they still held the heat of her blush.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked, noticing her confusion.
“Yes... yes, he just caught me by surprise.”
Mrs. Carter smiled tenderly.
“Don't keep him waiting too long.”
As soon as the door closed again, Annie let out a long sigh.
“How am I supposed to look him in the eye now?”
For a few moments she stood motionless, embarrassed by the thoughts she'd had only minutes before. She gently shook her head, took a deep breath, and forced herself to regain her composure.
She fixed her hair in front of the mirror, smoothed the wrinkles from her dress, and, after making sure nothing betrayed the whirlwind of emotions inside her, slowly descended the stairs.
When she reached the foyer, she found Alaric speaking cordially with Mr. and Mrs. Carter.
When he saw her appear, he interrupted the conversation and gave her a warm smile.
“Good afternoon, Miss Annie.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ravenscroft.”
Alaric inclined his head slightly.
“I hope I haven't arrived at an inconvenient time.”
“Not at all.”
“I'm glad to hear it. Actually, I've come to invite you to take a walk. It's a pleasant day, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better, if you'd like.”
Annie glanced at her parents.
Mr. Carter smiled approvingly.
“You may go, dear.”
Before Annie could answer, Alaric added naturally, “And, if you'll allow me, I'd like to invite you to dinner after our walk.”
Those words caught her by surprise once again.
“D-dinner?”
He nodded.
“I know a small restaurant in the village. The food is excellent, and the atmosphere is very quiet.”
Annie lowered her gaze, somewhat uncomfortable.
“I'm afraid I'll have to decline your invitation.”
Alaric's brow furrowed slightly.
“May I ask why?”
She hesitated for a few seconds before answering.
“I don't have a dress suitable for a place like that. What I wear every day is fine for the farm, but not for an elegant restaurant.”
Alaric smiled calmly, as if he had anticipated her response.
“I thought you might say that.”
Annie looked up again.
“How?”
“A few days ago, I ordered a dress for you. I hoped you might agree to go out with me sometime, and I wanted to make sure you felt completely comfortable.”
Annie was rendered speechless.
There wasn't the slightest trace of ostentation in his words, only a delicate attentiveness to what she might need.
“I didn't mean to make you feel obligated,” he added calmly. “If, after seeing it, you decide you'd rather not accept it, I'll understand perfectly.”
Annie felt a warm emotion spread through her chest. His gesture wasn't born of vanity, but of a consideration she had rarely received, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.
“I accept your invitation.”
Alaric's smile grew just a little wider.
“Then it will be a true pleasure to accompany you this evening.”
A few minutes later, the elegant carriage left the farm and set out toward Wrenford. Annie sat across from Alaric, trying to remain composed, though it was nearly impossible. Every time she raised her eyes and met the young man's blue gaze, she remembered the fantasies she'd had only minutes before, and an intense heat rose to her cheeks again.
She tried to focus on the landscape passing beyond the carriage window. The fields gilded by the sun, the oaks lining the road, and the first houses of the village all seemed far more interesting than the man sitting across from her. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself.
“Are you enjoying the ride?” Alaric asked kindly.
“Yes... very much.”
Her answer came so hastily that even she felt like hiding her face in her hands.
Alaric offered a faint smile, continuing to observe her discreetly.
When the carriage reached the center of Wrenford, they both got out to stroll around the square. Several families wandered peacefully through the gardens, while some merchants tended the last stalls still open that afternoon. More than one person greeted the young heir respectfully, and he returned every gesture with the same cordiality, making no distinction between farmers, artisans, or merchants.
Annie walked beside him with her hands clasped in front of her dress, trying to appear calm. However, every time Alaric addressed a word to her, she felt the blush take over her face again.
He eventually noticed.
“Miss Annie.”
She immediately looked up.
“Yes?”
Alaric studied her with a calm expression.
“Forgive me if I'm being indiscreet, but I've noticed that your cheeks have been very flushed since we left the farm. Are you all right? Is something troubling you?”
For an instant, Annie felt as though her heart had stopped beating.
What if he could guess what she'd been thinking?
The mere idea was enough to make her blush even more intensely.
She quickly looked away and pretended to take an interest in the flowers decorating the square.
“It's nothing... I think it's quite hot this afternoon.”
Alaric briefly lifted his gaze to the sky. A pleasant breeze swept through the square, and the weather was surprisingly mild; even so, he didn't contradict her.
“It's possible.”
Annie released an almost imperceptible sigh, grateful that he didn't press her.
As they resumed their walk, he continued chatting about everyday matters with his usual ease. She tried to respond calmly, although inside she was still struggling to banish from her memory those pages she had read in secret and that, to her eternal embarrassment, had ended up associating Alaric's face with thoughts she had never imagined having.
They continued walking through the square amid quiet conversation and occasional greetings from Wrenford's residents. Annie was beginning to relax when, turning a corner, she spotted a group of people approaching from the opposite direction.
Her heart gave a jolt.
She immediately recognized Mr. and Mrs. Ashbourne, elegantly dressed for the occasion. Beside them walked Florence, holding Lucian's arm, along with several relatives who were chatting animatedly.
When Florence looked up, she was the first to notice Annie's presence. An impeccable smile appeared on her lips.
“Mr. Ravenscroft,” Mr. Ashbourne greeted him with the cordiality befitting a gentleman.
Alaric inclined his head slightly.
“Mr. Ashbourne, Mrs. Ashbourne, Miss Florence.”
The greetings were exchanged with the courtesy expected of high society. Only then did Lucian's eyes meet Annie's, and for several seconds, time seemed to stand still.
In that gaze, she sensed a cluster of emotions impossible to conceal: sadness, regret... and silent jealousy at seeing her walking beside the man who was now courting her heart.
Annie felt a knot form in her throat.
For an instant, she remembered the forest, the letter, the kiss that should never have happened, and the farewell her mother had forced upon them.
Lucian stepped forward and greeted them with the courtesy the occasion demanded.
“Mr. Ravenscroft.”
“Mr. Pembroke.”
The two men exchanged an impeccably polite handshake.
However, Annie had the strange impression that beneath their apparent cordiality lay a tension neither of them was willing to display openly.
Mr. Ashbourne studied Annie for a moment before turning his gaze back to Alaric. Although he maintained a courteous smile, he couldn't entirely conceal his surprise at seeing him in the company of a young woman of such humble origins.
“I must admit, Mr. Ravenscroft, I didn't expect to find you out walking with Miss Carter.”
Alaric held his gaze with complete serenity.
“I imagine the news hasn't reached your family yet. I have the honor of courting Miss Annie, with the intention of asking for her hand in marriage when she feels the time is right.”
For a brief moment, silence fell. Mr. Ashbourne's expression revealed surprise impossible to disguise, Florence's eyes widened slightly, and Lucian felt his heart constrict in his chest.
Alaric continued speaking with the same calmness.
“I can assure you that it has been one of the most important and wisest decisions I've made since my arrival in Wrenford.”
Florence shot Lucian a quick glance.
He kept his expression calm, though the rigidity of his jaw betrayed the effort he was making to contain his emotions.
Alaric spoke again in the same even tone.
“I've always believed that when fate places someone truly valuable in our path, the wisest thing to do is have the courage to remain at their side and not let them slip away.”
He spoke the words with complete naturalness, as though they were merely a simple reflection. However, Lucian immediately understood the true meaning of the sentence and held Alaric's gaze for a long moment. There was no challenge in the heir's tone, only a firm determination impossible to ignore, so Lucian finally lowered his eyes slowly.
For the first time since his engagement to Florence, he understood with perfect clarity that he had given up the woman he loved forever—not because of another man, but because of the decisions he himself had made.
Annie looked from one man to the other.
She couldn't fully understand what had just happened, but she clearly sensed the silent confrontation unfolding solely through their gazes and a few carefully chosen words.
Mr. Ashbourne finally broke the silence with a gracious farewell.
“It was a pleasure running into you, Mr. Ravenscroft.”
“The pleasure was mine.”
The family continued on in the opposite direction. Annie couldn't help turning her head one last time, and Lucian did the same. Their eyes met again for the briefest instant before the distance finally separated them. That expression of pain and resignation remained engraved in Annie's heart, reminding her that although they both tried to move on, there were still wounds time had yet to close.
After they moved away from the Ashbourne family, neither of them spoke for several minutes. The encounter had left behind a tension difficult to ignore, and Alaric understood that Annie needed to regain her composure before they continued their conversation.
When they reached the center of the square, they stopped beside the old stone fountain, where the constant murmur of water created a peaceful atmosphere. Alaric offered her a seat on one of the nearby benches and, after making sure she was comfortable, sat beside her, leaving just enough distance between them to keep her from feeling uncomfortable.
For a few moments, they silently watched the children playing around the fountain and the pigeons fluttering among the cobblestones.
It was Alaric who finally broke the silence.
“I think we've talked a lot about me so far and very little about you.”
Annie turned her face toward him.
“About me?”
He smiled gently.
“Yes. I'd like to get to know the real Annie Carter, not just the young woman who helps on the farm or the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Carter.”
She lowered her gaze slightly, as if no one had ever asked her that question with such genuine interest.
“I don't think there's much to tell.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
His response drew a small smile from her.
Annie was silent for a few seconds before answering.
“I like to sew. My mother taught me when I was very young, and ever since then, I've always found peace among threads and fabrics.”
Alaric listened with complete attention.
“I also enjoy embroidery. Agatha often says I have far too much patience for that sort of work.”
He let out a brief laugh.
“From what I've observed, I think Agatha is right.”
Annie smiled, gradually becoming more animated.
“And I like to read.”
“What kind of books?”
Her eyes brightened slightly.
“Love stories, mostly. Old letters, too. I've always thought it was wonderful to discover the feelings someone was able to leave written for another person many years ago.”
Alaric watched her with an interest that went far beyond simple courtesy.
“That's an uncommon pastime.”
“I know.” Annie smiled shyly. “I suppose I've always believed that letters preserve a piece of the soul of the person who wrote them.”
Her words seemed to awaken something in Alaric.
For an instant, he remained completely still, as though that simple thought held a much deeper meaning for him.
“And what do you look for when you read those stories?” he finally asked.
Annie turned her gaze toward the fountain's crystal-clear water.
“For them to end well.”
He waited in silence.
“Even if the characters suffer or have to face countless difficulties... I always want them to find happiness in the end. I like to think that after so much pain, love deserves a chance.”
Alaric didn't look away from her. There was a disarming sincerity in her words.
“That's a beautiful wish.”
Annie smiled modestly.
“Perhaps too naive.”
He slowly shook his head.
“I don't consider it naivety. I think continuing to believe in a happy ending, even after knowing pain, requires far more courage than giving up on it.”
Annie slowly lifted her gaze.
For an instant, she felt that Alaric understood her in a way very few people ever had. He wasn't trying to impress her with grand speeches or say what she wanted to hear. He was simply paying attention to every word she spoke, as if knowing her dreams, her tastes, and her hopes truly mattered to him.
And without realizing it, Annie discovered that the quiet conversation beside the old fountain was beginning to make her feel closer to him than any grand gesture could have.
The pleasant silence that followed their conversation lingered for a few moments. Annie watched the reflection of the water in the fountain and, without realizing it, turned her gaze toward Alaric again. Ever since she had met him, he had been the one asking the questions. However, there was something that had aroused her curiosity since the night of the party.
“May I ask you something?”
Alaric looked at her with a faint smile.
“You may ask me anything you wish.”
Annie hesitated for a few seconds, afraid of seeming indiscreet.
“Where have you been all these years?”
He remained silent.
She continued cautiously.
“I mean... no one in Wrenford had ever heard of you until a few weeks ago. And then, suddenly, you appeared and moved into the old mansion on the hill. It's hard for me to imagine how someone can appear out of nowhere.”
Alaric's expression barely changed. For several moments he gazed at the fountain's water before answering.
“It's a reasonable question.”
Annie waited in silence.
He offered a faint smile, laden with a melancholy difficult to explain.
“The truth is... I never left.”
She furrowed her brow slightly.
“What do you mean, you never left?”
Alaric raised his gaze to her.
“I was only... somewhere else.”
Those words left Annie completely bewildered.
“I don't understand.”
He fell silent for a moment, as if carefully choosing each word he was about to speak.
“And I don't expect you to understand yet.”
Annie couldn't take her eyes off him.
There was something about the way he spoke that didn't sound evasive or dishonest. It was as if he truly was telling the truth, even though that truth defied all logic.
“Will you explain it to me someday?”
A serene expression lit Alaric's face.
“If fate grants us enough time... yes. Someday, you'll understand the true meaning of my words.”
Annie felt a strange shiver run down her back. It wasn't fear, but the sensation of standing before a man who concealed a story immeasurably greater than anything anyone in Wrenford could imagine.
For an instant, she wanted to ask another question, but something told her insisting would be useless. Alaric didn't seem like a man who hid the truth out of distrust; rather, he seemed to be waiting for the right moment to reveal it.
As she watched him in silence, she understood that the mystery surrounding him, far from pushing her away, awakened an ever-growing desire to know him. She sensed that behind that calm gaze, his elegance, and his carefully measured words lay a truth capable of changing many things... perhaps even her own life.