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“No more ghosts?” she teased.

“I thought you didn’t believe in haunts.”

“I don’t. But we never did find an explanation for what happened in the attic that day,” she said pensively. “Or how the clock fell over and then was repaired the next day.

Gareth had his own theory about the clock. It had been a common model. He felt sure that the timepiece had been pushed over by one of the Cogswells and then replaced with another one from elsewhere in the house.

He couldn’t prove it, though. It was equally possible that supernatural forces had been at play. He trusted that with all the recent activity at the mansion without further incident meant that he had successfully put Marina and his father’s souls to rest.

“The piano is long gone. I had all that junk cleared out. Any of those statues my mother didn’t want to reclaim were sold off.” The dowager duchess had kept the bronze Rodin statue. He had kept the dancers as a gift for his bride. Evaine had not agreed to marry him easily. He’d had to court her.

She had managed to get through one more year of Girton before falling pregnant and leaving school for good to marry him. Gareth probably ought to feel more guilt about being so careless, but by that point, neither of them much cared about preventing a pregnancy. By then, she was involved in women’s suffrage and had pressured him to support the issue in Parliament.

He would have done it anyway. Gareth saw no reason why women should not enjoy the same privileges and rights as men. Frankly, he thought more women should be in charge. Look at how well Victoria had governed the country during her lengthy rule.

Gareth had been shocked to discover how well family life suited him. He had never expected to become a father. The months leading up to Saul’s arrival had been the happiest he’d ever experienced. He was newly married, deeply in love with his brave, intelligent wife, and the harsher gossip about the Lucan name had begun to dissipate.

In the end, he had chosen to preserve the Cogswells’ memory. Vernon had been reasonably well liked in the village despite being the local curmudgeon. Bess was less kindly regarded and it was little wonder why. They didn’t deserve it, but Gareth had not gone to the authorities. There wasn’t any point. There were no people left to accuse. He had reclaimed most of Marina’s money. The Cogswells had been spending it hand over fist and still hadn’t made much of a dent in the total. Gareth, Hazel, and Evaine spent hours gathering it up from every hiding place in the gardener’s cottage.

When they counted it, even he was surprised by how much his cursed father had stolen from his ward. Marina would have been a very wealthy bride indeed. That, of course, hadn’t been the reason why he had intended to marry her. He hadn’t known until she was long dead how much Marina’s inheritance had been worth. But it made him hate his father all the more for having taken such cruel advantage of a young girl entrusted to his care.

There were some sins that did not deserve forgiveness. Gareth hoped his father was enduring an eternal torment for his crimes. There would be no reconciling with that aspect of his past.

But he had found a way to move beyond it.

Having his own children helped.

Naturally, that had been when he decided to restore the estate. Over Evaine’s objections, initially. In the immediate aftermath, while she was still attending Girton and he was courting her like his life depended on it, he’d had the ruins of the north wing cleared away. He’d paid off the liens, too. There was a lot of financial maneuvering involved. But eventually, he decided to move forward with the restoration.

Having children to pass on his legacy made him want to clear Wolfhaven’s name once and for all.

The work had taken several years to complete. During that time, Clara had come along.

Now, they were coming home.

Gareth steered the motor car through the gates, past the freshly trimmed rose bushes, and around the fountain. Water sparkled where it shot from the central pipe.

“The sun does shine on Wolfhaven after all,” Evaine mused. She stepped down from the car and held her arms out to Clara. The child leaped down and scrambled fearlessly up the steps beneath the porte-cochere.

“Wait for me,” Saul called out plaintively.

“Fearless like her mother,” Gareth mused, watching the children run inside. He helped Hazel down from the car. She had finally recovered her health at Wulfmere. Though her lungs were still weak and she was prone to catching colds in the winter. Time had not diminished her spirit. She and his mother had become fast friends.

“I never thought to set foot here again,” she said, gazing at the house as she unwound her driving hat and unbuttoned her duster. Then she turned her gaze to the statues of Wulfric and Eardwulf where they flanked the gates.

Standing guard over a new generation of Lucans.

“Much less as mistress of the house,” Evaine said wryly. “We should corral the children before they destroy the place all over again. Wouldn’t want to undo all your hard work.”

Inside, the children were already exploring the long gallery. The old coffered ceiling remained in place. The sconces were gone. Gareth had installed electric lighting and new flooring. One couldn’t be a duke and not expect to entertain on occasion—an obligation he had long neglected.

The chandelier sparkled overhead. He remembered vividly the feeling that it would come crashing down upon him the first time he had set foot in these halls after a decade-long absence. Now, with it no longer covered in dust and lit with new and modern technology, the beauty of the cut crystal glimmered beautifully.

He’d kept some of the old, heavy furnishings. As much as his taste leaned toward the modern, the old styles suited the house better. All of the upholstery had been replaced. New drapes. Nothing much had been salvageable anyway. Even if he had wanted to keep it.

But the best part of the renovation had nothing to do with the public areas. He led Evaine upstairs while the old women chased the children around the newly planted garden. It was hard to believe that was where the confrontation with the Cogswells had taken place. Now, flowers bloomed. Children laughed and played.

“I wanted you to see it first,” he said, opening the double doors to the renovated ducal apartments.