But those days of girlish, foolish, behavior were over.

She stepped back when she saw Michael walking out of the stable with Lila’s horse, Windsor. Maggie hadn’t seen Michael since the day she left for the Continent, over a year ago. From this distance, he looked just as she remembered—broad shoulders, strong arms, and easy, self-assured gait. He’d always had a confidence about him, even when they were children. She caught sight of her reflection in the windowpane and wondered if he would notice any difference in her. Not that she planned to give him an opportunity to do so.

Maggie inspected her hazy appearance in the glass, not so much to admire it—though since childhood everyone had commented on what a pretty girl she was and she wasn’t deaf to the praise—but rather to search for signs of change. Surely the experiences abroad had lent maturity to her features? Had the girlish sparkle left her brown eyes, replaced by a new worldliness?

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Maggie responded, turning and crossing her room to take a seat at her vanity. She assumed Nora was returning to lay out her clothing.

“Pardon, mademoiselle.”

Turning sharply toward the unexpected voice, Maggie took in the figure of petite, delicate Therese, nanny to newborn James.

“What is it, Therese?” Maggie’s tone was colder than she had intended.

“Madame Darlington is still sleeping and I am not sure.… Shall I take baby James for a stroll this morning?” Therese inquired in her heavily accented English.

“Why would you ask me?” Maggie snapped. Seeing the bags under Therese’s normally sparkling brown eyes made her regret her tone. Perhaps Therese was homesick for France. Or for her mother, who Maggie had learned had died only a year before, leaving Therese without any family in the world.

“I am sorry. I only thought—”

Feeling guilty for her peevishness, Maggie softened. “Please don’t apologize. I only meant that James is not my responsibility. If Lady Darlington is still sleeping, ask my father to wake her.”