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Perfect husbands were rare, except perhaps in fiction, but Grace Percy, Countess of Astley, had married the real-life equivalent, she was certain.

“I still cannot believe this surprise, Frederick!” Grace’s shock had continued all the way from the harbor, where her dear husband had announced that they’d arrived in America instead of England.

“I thought the terrain looked different than England, but I never suspected we’d go anywhere else except your beloved Havensbrooke. ”

“ Our beloved Havensbrooke, I hope?” he corrected, turning from his place in the front seat of the hired touring, next to a rather somber driver.

Her smile immediately responded. At nearly seven months married, Grace still found her thoughts paused on occasion at the idea of his English estate being her home.

But how could she help it? They’d only lived in the estate a few months before they’d taken off on their honeymoon tour.

But oh, what a delightful introduction to her new home, complete with a murder mystery and a ghost hunt.

She sighed. Married life certainly kept proving to be wonderfully exciting.

She sent him another grin before tipping her head out the window just enough to take in the familiar lane leading to her father’s house. “How did you even know where to go? Harrington is such a small place outside of Richmond, and I know I’ve never given you exact directions.”

His low chuckle warmed the already heated June air, skittering a familiar welcome of tickles up her bare neck.

“I’ve written my own letters to your father, darling.

” His voice, so smooth and English, carried such delicious tenderness that Grace turned to find him shooting a wink to their adopted daughter, Zahra.

Zahra’s lips tipped. She rarely showed great affection, but who could blame her? After losing her family and living on the streets of Cairo, the little girl still had plenty of healing to do. So every smile came extra special.

Poor Miss Cox, the young English maid Frederick had hired in Italy to accompany them through the remainder of their trip, blushed at Frederick’s wink and smile.

After all the overt affection Grace lathered on her darling husband, it was a wonder Miss Cox hadn’t gotten used to it yet, but perhaps the trouble lay more in how very handsome her husband was.

Grace thought about that idea for a moment. She supposed if she wasn’t married to this wonderful man, she’d find herself a little awestruck too.

Truth be told, he was so handsome, he might fit the description of a dime-novel villain, but she was very glad fiction didn’t get it right on that score either.

“Besides, it may be a while before we can travel again.” He continued, turning back to face the front of the car. “I know it’s a few months earlier than we’d originally planned, but it seemed a waste not to take advantage of being at sea. And I know you’d love to see your family.”

Grace would have kissed his cheek if she hadn’t been sitting in the back seat of the touring with Zahra between her and Miss Cox. “You are the most wonderful man.” She turned to Zahra and Miss Cox. “Don’t you think so?”

Miss Cox’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked away, but Zahra’s grin stretched enough to show off her teeth.

The simple white dress she wore brought out the depths of those endless gray-green eyes.

Grace still couldn’t stop smiling at the very idea that the little girl belonged to her and Frederick now.

“He has all his hair and teeth.” Zahra nodded, the tiniest twinkle in her eyes alerted Grace that the little girl might be finding her humor. “That is a help.”

Frederick’s laugh burst out. “Indeed it is, Zahra. And I’m glad to still possess both of them.”

Grace studied his thick dark hair for a second longer, her fingers twitching to push through his locks, but the very idea could send poor Miss Cox through the car window.

Grace drew in a deep breath to keep her show of admiration to a more appropriate public display and leaned toward Zahra.

“The gardens at Rutledge House are lovely, Zahra. They were my mother’s gardens, and I’d often spend time with her there.

Hopefully, when we return to our dear Havensbrooke”—she emphasized, sending her dear husband a look to ensure her noted her correction—”you and I and, perhaps even Lily, can work to restore those gardens together.

Then we can make our own special place too.

Gardens are very creative places in stories as well as in real life. ”

And perhaps she and Frederick could add a few more children to fill the manor house with the laughter those crumbling walls desperately needed.

Grace paused a frown at the thought and her palm went to her stomach.

Surely they would have an heir—something Frederick hadn’t voiced a desire for often but that she knew he wanted, especially for the future of Havensbrooke.

Grace turned her attention back to the window, her focus catching on a change in the familiar landscape of her childhood home as they progressed down the drive.

“Father’s removed some of the trees in the front.

” How odd. He hadn’t written about any improvements.

“Those were lovely trees. Why would he do that?” She leaned forward as the house grew closer, a sudden tightening in her chest she couldn’t quite explain.

“And it looks as if he’s building an addition onto the parlor.

” Grace turned back to Frederick. “Why didn’t he tell me about those in his most recent letters?

He always loved sharing news about his improvements with me. ”

The tiniest of flickers played across Frederick’s features. Had that been concern? But … but why would he feel concern? Unless his tendency toward clairvoyance—which usually only pertained to her—had spanned the ocean.

“Perhaps he wanted it to be a surprise,” he offered, his lighter tone too controlled.

She studied him a moment longer. Frederick had asked about Father over the last few days, but gave nothing to hint at a worry.

Could this visit be for more than just her fancy, but because of a real concern?

He stared back at her, the intensity in those dark eyes almost attempting to communicate something with her.

Clearly her clairvoyance was at a disadvantage to his.

Except on some occasions.

But those were obvious and usually involved kissing.

“How many sisters and brothers did you have, Sayyida ?”

Grace pulled her attention from Frederick’s face and looked down at Zahra as the car slowed to a stop.

She pushed up a smile. “I only have a sister.”

The pucker on Zahra’s brow deepened. “It is a very big house for such a small family.”

Frederick bent ever so slightly, his movement gaining Zahra’s attention. “Wait until you’ve seen your new home at Havensbrooke, Zahra.” He nodded toward the home in front of them. “It’s been in my family for centuries and is at least three times the size of Rutledge House.”

The little girl’s eyes widened. “Then I shall lose myself.”

“No fear, lamb.” Grace’s husband cooed out the words, giving her an even sweeter glimpse of the father she knew him to be. “Someone will always find you.”

Oh, how she loved him.

The worry coiling in her chest unwound in a wonderful warmth.

He did that for her—found her—even if it only meant finding her gaze in a crowd.

It was one of her favorite experiences, except when he wore that concerned “what are you doing” expression or the “did you truly say that out loud, darling” expression and maybe the “please don’t do what I think you are going to do” expression.

Whatever the concern with her father—if there even was one—she and Frederick would sort it out together.

She was certain of it. They’d been sorting through life-threatening situations since their first week of marriage, and the fact they were both still alive gave testament to their compatibilities, God’s grace, and excellent timing.

Not to mention a few other people helping them along the way, excellent novel-reading preparation, and the constant availability of ropes.

Frederick sent her a reassuring smile as he opened the car door, likely trying to quiet her worries.

Oh, he was simply the very best man she’d ever known.

Who but God could have imagined that an unexpected wedding between a second-choice American bride and a reformed roguish British earl could have turned out to be not only a friendship but a love match, as well?

And he was positively excellent at distracting her from her concerns.

After giving instructions for Zahra and Miss Cox to wait for them in the car with the driver, Frederick escorted Grace to the door of the three-story, brick mansion.

The familiar gong echoed inside as Frederick rang the bell.

Grace pulled at the edges of her gloves, giving her head a shake at her silliness. There was no need for concern, of course. This was her childhood home. She knew this place. Every nook, every corridor, and even the unexpected hiding spots.

Her smile brimmed. Besides, she’d see her father.

But why did her stomach feel as if the contents wanted to take flight? Her lips tightened. Was this, perhaps, how Lizzie Bennet felt the first time she saw Pemberley?

After a few moments, the door opened to reveal the familiar face of Perkins, her father’s longstanding butler. Father had brought him on before Grace could remember.

The man’s eyes widened when his attention moved from Frederick to Grace, and his mouth even dropped open. She would have been concerned, but she’d seen that same look on Perkins’ face quite often when she’d lived in this house. Poor man. He was always finding her in the most unexpected quandaries.

“Miss Grace?” He blinked a few times and cleared his throat, dipping his head with a shake. “Lady Astley, my lady.”