Page 27

“We were thinking somewhere remote,” Garrick offered. “Scotland, perhaps? Or⁠—”

“Yorkshire,” Adeline said decisively. “Our mother's side. Distant enough that no one would have met her, provincial enough to explain any social awkwardness.” She looked at Lily again. “You'll need a backstory. Parents, siblings, education. Everything that makes you a person rather than a poorly constructed fiction.”

“I can do that,” Lily said. “I've spent three years researching this time period. I know how it works.”

Something passed between them—recognition, maybe. Or respect. Two women caught in circumstances neither had chosen, finding common ground in their shared captivity.

“Good.” Adeline moved toward the door. “We'll start immediately. Posture, deportment, basic social graces. By the time we're done, you'll at least be able to walk through a drawing room without looking like you're about to bolt.”

She paused at the threshold.

“And August? If you're going to keep her locked up here, the least you could do is let her have some air. A walk in the garden, perhaps. Under supervision, of course.”

Then she was gone, leaving the rest of us in her wake.

Garrick let out a low whistle. “Well. That went better than expected.”

“Did it?” I wasn't so sure.

Lily was staring at the door where Adeline had disappeared. “She doesn't take any shit, does she?”

The vulgarity caught me off guard, though I tried not to show it.

“No,” Garrick said cheerfully. “She absolutely does not. Which is why she's perfect for this. And why you two are either going to get along brilliantly or drive each other mad.”

He looked at me. “She's right, you know. About the garden. Fresh air would do our time traveler here some good. And it's not as if she can escape—where would she go?”

He had a point. And keeping Lily confined to a single room would only breed resentment and resistance.

“Fine,” I said. “Supervised.”

“I'll supervise,” Garrick offered immediately, grin widening.

“No!” The word came out sharper than intended, possessive in a way I hadn't meant it to be. “I will.”

Garrick's eyebrows rose, that knowing look deepening into something more amused. But he just smiled—the bastard. “As you wish. I'll leave you two to it.”

He left, and suddenly it was just Lily and me in the morning light, the space between us charged with everything unsaid.

“Your friends are. . .” she started, searching for the right words.

“Complicated,” I finished. “But trustworthy. Adeline will keep you safe, and she'll teach you everything you need to know. You just have to be willing to learn.”

“And to be honest with her,” Lily added. “She made that very clear.”

“Yes.” I moved toward the door, needing the movement to ground myself. “Which brings me to my next point. Today, we begin your education in earnest. Adeline will handle the social aspects. I'll handle everything else.”

“Everything else?”

“Your story. Your background. Every detail of who you're supposed to be.” I met her gaze. “And in exchange, you'll tell me everything about who you actually are. Where you came from. What you know about Weavers and time magic and the necklace that brought you here.”

“I've already told you⁠—”

“You've told me fragments. I want the whole story. Because if I'm going to keep you alive, I need to know exactly what you are. And what you're worth.”

She studied me for a long moment, those sea blue eyes searching for something I wasn’t sure I wanted her to find.

“Fine,” she said finally. “We'll trade information. Question for question. I tell you about my time, you tell me about yours. About Weavers. About what 'unraveling' really means.”