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She couldn’t suppress her snort of disbelief. “Lenora? Distraught? The woman who paid to have me kidnapped?”

Edgar waved a dismissive hand. “Rumors and misunderstandings. She’s your stepmother—she loves you.”

“She does not.” Her voice hardened. “And neither do you.”

His expression darkened momentarily before smoothing into something placating. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve come all this way for you.” He gestured grandly toward the forest. “If you married me, you’d have the finest house in the village. Servants. Beautiful clothes. Everything you could ever want.”

The pups growled louder, sensing her growing anger. One of them—Bold, she called him—stepped forward, hackles raised.

“I have everything I want right here,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Edgar.”

“Not even to regain control of the bakery and your house?”

“What?”

He smirked at her.

“Did you ever actually see the will?”

The implications of his question stunned her so much that he took another two steps towards the porch before she came to her senses.

“Stop right there,” she ordered him.

Her stomach knotted as Edgar took another step forward anyway. The pups pressed against her legs, their growls vibrating through her ankles.

“I appreciate your concern about my inheritance,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “but it makes no difference. I have no interest in your house or in marrying you. I’m staying here.”

Edgar’s face transformed. The practiced smile vanished, replaced by a flash of naked rage that made her grip the porchrailing. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, before he seemed to catch himself. The mask slipped back into place with frightening speed.

“You can’t be serious.” He forced a laugh that sounded more like a bark. “Living out here in the wilderness? With… what, these mangy little beasts for company?”

“They’re not mangy,” she snapped. “And I’m not alone.”

Edgar sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping in apparent defeat. “Agatha said you’d say that. She warned Lenora you were… enchanted with this place.” He lifted a wicker basket she hadn’t noticed before. “Your stepmother sent some of your clothes and personal items. A peace offering, of sorts.”

She eyed the basket suspiciously. It seemed an unlikely gesture from Lenora, who had never shown her a moment’s kindness since her father died.

“How thoughtful,” she said, not bothering to hide her skepticism.

Edgar stepped forward, extending the basket. “Here, take it. There are some of your mother’s things in there too, I believe.”

The moment he moved closer, all seven pups lunged forward, their growls transforming into snarls. Bold and Storm snapped at Edgar’s ankles while the others formed a protective semicircle in front of her.

He stumbled backwards, nearly dropping the basket. “Control these wild animals!”

“They’re excellent judges of character,” she said, making no move to call them back. “You can leave the basket there.” She pointed to a spot several feet away.

Edgar set the basket down with exaggerated care, his eyes never leaving the growling pups. He took three deliberate steps backwards, making a vain attempt to brush the dirt from his expensive jacket.

“Are you absolutely certain you won’t reconsider?” His voice softened, taking on the honeyed tone he used when trying to charm the village women. “This is madness, Tessa. Living out here with wild animals, far from civilization. What kind of life is that?”

She stroked Bold’s head as he returned to her side, his small body still tense with protective energy. The simple gesture calmed her more than Edgar could know.

“It’s the life I want,” she said firmly. “I’m happier here than I’ve been since my father died.”

Something flickered across Edgar’s face—disappointment, anger, calculation—before settling into resignation. He shrugged, spreading his hands wide.

“Very well. Your decision.” His tone suggested she was making a terrible mistake. “Should you change your mind, my offer remains open. The village isn’t the same without your pretty face… or your baking.”