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A huge arrangement of yellow roses had turned up for Vivian earlier in the day, with a card that had left her blushing and grinning like a schoolgirl. Hanna had caught the nameRandolphat the end of the note. Vivian, it seemed, had a suitor of her own.
Another grin turned up Vivian’s lips. “I do. Randy is such a sweet man. Do you suppose he lives up to his name?”
“Vivian!” Hanna laughed. “You’re terrible!”
“I may be old, my dear, but I am not dead.” Vivian’s eyes twinkled with mischief for a moment. Then she looked back out over the torn-up garden again. “I suppose this house isn’t my fairytale anymore.”
“Maybe it is. The original fairytales were very dark, cautionary stories full of ghosts and murder, unlike their later interpretations. I think we were just confused about what sort of fairytale we were in.” Hanna stepped around behind the wheelchair. “I think your real fairytale begins somewhere else. With a man who sends you roses.”
“Perhaps you are right.” Vivian reached back to set her hand on Hanna’s. “Perhaps that is where both our fairytales begin. Somewhere warmer. With handsome caretakers to watch over me when I’m not in the boudoir, making ready for my handsome, rose-sending prince.”
Hanna turned at least two shades of red. “You’re awful. You know that, don’t you? Really awful.”
“And I will be so until the day you lift me to the sparrows, my dear child.” Vivian looked over her shoulder. “For now, I think we have moved past the place where I am Vivian. To you, the woman who loves my son, I will always be Gran.”
Tears stung Hanna’s eyes. She sniffled as she leaned down to kiss the woman’s cheek. “Gran. Thank you.”
“No. Thank you for loving Greg, and for saving him.” Vivian smiled at her, eyes bright with her own tears. After a moment, she looked around. “Where is he, by the bye?”
“He should be back any time. He was signing the papers to finalize the sale of the house. Movers will come pack up our things and take them overseas. There’s a beautiful home on the California coast he’s looking at buying. One where he can build a wing on for you, and those handsome caretakers of yours.” Hanna pushed Vivian’s chair away from the window, over to the table to have tea.
“I know you both worked hard to find the perfect place. He said the company headquarters would move there as well?”
“That’s the intent. I’m pretty sure we’re all done with England.” Hanna chuckled.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Not long after, Gregory appeared at the door, a folder tucked beneath his arm. “Just in time for tea, I see. Wow. This is a lot of roses. Did you raid the garden before the workmen showed up? Run them over with your chair to steal the flowers?”
Vivian threw him a mock-disapproving look. “No, you horrible child. These are from a suitor for my affections.”
Both Gregory’s eyebrows lifted. “A suitor. Do I need to stand guard at the window in case he climbs up?”
“Absolutely not.” Vivian paused, then added, “He might throw out a hip. Show him up if he visits, and we shall pretend he climbed the lattice.”
Gregory and Hanna exchanged an amused look. “Probably better that way,” she said.
Gregory nodded. “I think it might be. We’ve had enough lattice climbing to last a lifetime. Besides, we technically don’t own this place anymore. They’re allowing us to stay until we’ve finished what we need to do.”
Hanna caught the hint. “Did you bring everything?”
“I have everything you asked for.” Gregory held out the folder.
Vivian picked up a napkin from the table to dab at her eyes. “Is it time?”
“Yes.” Hanna took the folder, then let out a deep breath. “It’s time to bring peace to Greenhill Hall at last.”
* * *
She hadn’t hadto work very hard to see the dead after that night in the basement. Stuart hadn’t shown himself often in the days that followed, but when he did, Hanna watched him walk the halls like a small sentinel who needed to see all was well with his own eyes. He had stood guard nearby as Hanna watched the contractors pull the grim, bone-laden tiles out of the basement room, eyes full of tears that spilled down his cheeks to evaporate into the ether before they hit the ground.
He seemed to sense she wanted to see him, because he waited for them in the room he’d once called his own. Hanna felt Gregory stiffen beside her. “I can see him,” he murmured.
Hanna touched his hand. “You were close to death. That changes your perceptions. You saw Joseph, too, when the sparrows carried him home.”
Saw him. Wept for him. Then sat in the sun with Hanna, talking for hours about the memories that continued to surface from the depths of his mind. Never had she felt closer to someone than in those moments when she wiped away his tears.
“Hello, Stuart,” she said, as she knelt down on the ground. “There’s a few things I want to show you. Will you look at them?”
The youthful spirit dropped to his knees in front of her, curiosity evident.
