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As Maisie was led away, Yvette straightened, her gaze lingering on the retreating figure of the little girl.

“You were rather cold with her,” she remarked, her voice measured but pointed.

His expression hardened.

“How I treat my daughter is no concern of yours,” he replied curtly.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode into the castle, leaving Yvette standing at the foot of the steps.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but she quickly unclenched them, drawing a calming breath. Before she coulddwell too long on his abruptness, a woman stepped forward with a kind smile.

“Allow me to show you around, Your Grace,” the woman said, her tone warm and welcoming.

Yvette turned to her, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you,” she replied, returning the smile.

The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Calloway, the castle’s housekeeper, and led Yvette through the grand entrance hall.

The interior of Braemore was no less impressive than its exterior.

Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath her feet, and the air carried a faint hint of lavender, as though fresh sachets had been placed in every room.

The walls were adorned with large, gilded portraits of past dukes, their stern visages watching over the castle as though they still ruled its halls. Elegant chandeliers hung from high, vaulted ceilings, their crystals catching the dim light and scattering it in soft rainbows.

“Everything here is quite magnificent,” Yvette murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

Mrs. Calloway beamed. “I’m so pleased you think so, Your Grace. If there’s anything you’d like to change or add, please don’t hesitate to let me know. This is your home now.”

Yvette hesitated, unsure how to respond. While the older woman’s offer was kind, Yvette felt an unspoken constraint. This marriage was one of convenience, and she doubted Killian would welcome her making significant changes to his ancestral home.

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Calloway, but I think everything is perfect as it is,” Yvette said tactfully. “If I decide otherwise, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

The housekeeper nodded, her smile unwavering. “Very well, Your Grace. And if you need anything at all—anything—please do not hesitate to call on me.”

“Thank you,” Yvette replied sincerely.

As they continued the tour, Yvette found herself more and more captivated by the castle’s beauty. The dining hall was grand enough to host a hundred guests, with its long oak table and intricately carved chairs. The library was a marvel, its towering shelves packed with books that ranged from historical times to more recent works.

Finally, Mrs. Calloway led her to a smaller, more intimate drawing room with plush sofas and a roaring fire.

“Pardon me for my directness, Your Grace, but this is one of my favorite rooms,” the housekeeper confided. “It’s quiet and cozy—perfect for a bit of respite.”

Yvette smiled, feeling a pang of gratitude for the woman’s thoughtfulness. “I think it might become one of my favorites as well.

Mrs. Calloway returned the smile and led Yvette up the grand staircase, her steps steady and her voice warm as she explained the details of the castle’s design.

As they ascended, Mrs. Calloway gestured to a series of doors that branched off from the hallway.

“This wing is reserved for the family,” she said, stopping in front of a wide oak door. “And here is your chamber, Your Grace.”

Yvette stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the room. The chamber was spacious and beautifully furnished with deep burgundy curtains that framed tall windows. A four-poster bed dominated the room, its canopy trimmed with gold embroidery. The hearth crackled with a warm fire, and the scent of lavender lingered faintly in the air.

“This, Your Grace, connects directly to His Grace’s chambers,” Mrs. Calloway said, motioning toward another door at the far end of the room, her tone casual, though Yvette felt her face flush.

The color deepened as Mrs. Calloway added, “His Grace wrote ahead to request this arrangement. He wished for everything to be perfectly prepared for his wife’s arrival.”

Yvette glanced toward the adjoining door as if it might open on its own. The thought of how easily he could enter her room—or how easily she could enter his—sent her mind spinning.

She nodded briskly, attempting to regain composure.