Page 60 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

"For what it's worth," Edwin said, more seriously, "I think she is. Thinking about you. Missing you. Probably worrying about whether you're safe."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. But you could find out when you get back." Edwin rolled over. "Goodnight, Your Grace. Try not to overthink yourself into insomnia."

After Edwin's breathing evened out into sleep, Caspian lay awake for a while longer.

Three days. Maybe four. That's how long this mission would take if everything went according to plan.

Three or four days before he could see Caroline again. Before he could determine if her concern had been genuine or performance.

Three or four days to wonder if she was safe. If the estate was running smoothly. If Mochi was behaving himself.

If she was thinking about him even a fraction as much as he was apparently thinking about her.

This is ridiculous, Caspian thought. I'm a military commander on a critical mission. I should be focused on tactics and strategy, not on whether my wife misses me.

But as he finally drifted off to sleep, the last thought in his mind was of Caroline's face when she'd told him to be careful.

And the warm certainty that he wanted to see that expression again.

Preferably as soon as possible.

Chapter 13

Are You Possessed or Just Happy to See Us?

Two days later, Carol was bent over a ledger in Caspian's study, trying to make sense of the estate's grain storage schedules, when Sterling cleared his throat.

"Your Grace, you have visitors."

Carol looked up from the numbers that had been making her eyes cross. "Visitors?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Your brother and sister have arrived unannounced. Viscount Jasper Holloway and Lady Beatrice Holloway."

The names triggered a flood of memories. Jasper. Bea. Caroline's siblings.

Carol's heart leapt. "They're here?"

"Indeed. They're currently in the main parlor. Shall I—"

Carol was already on her feet, abandoning the ledger without a second thought. "Yes! Please—actually, I know where it is."

She hurried out of the study, Mochi trotting at her heels, and practically ran through the halls to the main parlor.

When she burst through the doors, she found two people standing stiffly in the center of the room, looking around with barely concealed concern.

Caroline's memories immediately supplied their identities, along with a flood of associated feelings and experiences.

Jasper. Her older brother. And Beatrice—Bea. Her older sister.

Jasper was tall and broad-shouldered, with warm brown hair that curled slightly at the ends and kind hazel eyes that—according to the memories—had always been gentle with Caroline even when she didn't deserve it. At twenty-six, he cut an impressive figure in his travel clothes, though Carol could see the tension in his shoulders. The memories painted him as protective, warm, prone to dramatic gestures when his emotions ran high.

Bea stood beside him, more petite but with a no-nonsense presence that commanded attention. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a practical braid, and her grey eyes—eyes that the memories insisted missed nothing—were scanning the room with clear assessment. Twenty-four years old. The sensible one. The one who'd lectured Caroline for years about her obsession with Percival.

Caroline had loved these two people. Genuinely loved them.

And Carol felt an unexpected wave of affection for them, borrowed from those memories but settling into something real.