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And all at once, the sensation of being pulled in two directions returned with full force. Why did Davron have to be so generous and considerate?

“Colette will be thrilled to see you,” said Raphael. “She’s not expecting us back until this afternoon.”

“She has missed you like you would not believe,” added Marcel. “I think it has been quite lonely for her. She has us and Laughlin, but there is nothing like a sister, I suppose.”

“You suppose correctly,” said Amelie quietly.

She had missed her sister, too. The thought of hugging Colette was more than enough to prevent her from riding to Castle Grange post-haste. She loved her sister with her whole heart, and Colette was getting married. Amelie needed to be with her during this time.

Raphael turned his steed into the driveway of a splendid two-story house nestled among spruce trees. Honeysuckle vines covered the stone façade, the roof was tiled in burgundy, and fragrant blooms of violet, yellow, orange, and magenta filled the garden beds.

“This is lovely!” said Amelie. “But what happened to our cottage?”

Marcel dismounted before helping his sister do the same. “We offered it to Philomene and she gladly moved in. She is mighty pleased with your herb garden.”

“She sits on the stump in the courtyard to smoke her pipe in the evenings,” said Raphael, climbing down from his horse. “She says the trees and the stars talk to her on those nights.”

Amelie giggled. “I am sure they do. I have caught a whiff of the herbs she packs into that pipe.”

She stroked Trésor’s nose. “Thank you for bringing me here. You know you are free to go whenever and wherever you like?”

The mare blinked her clever eyes and nudged Amelie’s shoulder.

Amelie’s selfish hope was that Trésor remained with her, or at least visited on occasion. Aside from being a lovely companion, Trésor was a living link to Davron and her life at Castle Grange.

Marcel dusted off his hands. “Raphael and I will tend to the horses. We have stables and paddocks out the back. You go?—”

A piercing squeal made everyone jump in fright, horses included.

Amelie barely looked up before Colette accosted her, hugging her tightly while jasmine-scented hair smothered Amelie’s face. A moment ago, Amelie had felt tired from the ride, but now she brimmed with the excitement of reuniting with Colette.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!” said Colette, still holding on.

“I missed you, too!”

Finally, the sisters stepped back, arms still linked, to look at each other.

“You appear different,” said Colette, her eyes widening. “More worldly, somehow. Or perhaps I am making that up, knowing you have been on a grand adventure.”

“An adventure it was,” said Amelie. “But it was not always so grand.”

“You will tell me everything.” She glanced at Marcel and Raphael, who watched with amused expressions. “You will tell me all of the things you dared not tell them,” she said in a stage whisper.

“I will. And you are more beautiful than ever, dear Colette,” she said with a fond smile. “Your face glows. Betrothal suits you well.”

A moment too late, Amelie realized her mistake.

“No! You know about the engagement already?” said Colette, her face falling. She rounded on Marcel, waggling her finger at him. “You were not supposed to say anything.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it could have been Raphael! Why do you assume it was me?”

Colette cocked her eyebrow. “Was it you?”

“Yes.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, well, she knows now.” Colette snickered and turned back to Amelie. “The important thing is that you are home and can help me plan the wedding. You will be my maid of honor, of course.”

“I would love that,” replied Amelie. “Have you set a date yet?”