My lips pressed down softly on his. I murmured his name over and over. 'Come back to me, Troy, please, please. You are not alone. I love you. I will always love you.' Over and over I called him back, until at last the glassiness in his eyes departed, and slowly they came into focus. Delirious and happy delight took away the stare, even as his fingers reached to trail over my face.

'You did come back. . . oh, Heaven, I was so terrified you wouldn't. I had a weird feeling you went to that Logan Stonewall again, and discovered you love him, and not me.'

'You, only you!' I cried passionately, raining kisses all over his chilled, pale face. 'I had the flu, darling. I ran a high fever for days and days. The telephones were down, the bridges were out, and the roads were flooded. I returned to you as soon as I could.'

His smile was thin and weak.

'I knew I was being silly to allow myself to become so depressed. I knew you would come back, subconsciously I knew that . . .'

I snuggled into his embrace and felt his hands slip into my hair. My face pressed down against his chest. I heard his heart beating slowly, so slowly… how fast was a normal heart supposed to beat?

'I don't want a big wedding, Troy. I've changed my mind about that. We'll slip away from Farthinggale Manor and have a small, private ceremony.'

He held me tightly against him, stroking my hair, putting small kisses on the top of my head. 'I'm so tired, Heaven, so tired. I thought you wanted a large wedding?'

'No, I want only you.'

'Tony has to be at the wedding,' he whispered with his lips brushing my forehead. 'It wouldn't be real without him. He was like my father. . .'

'Whatever you want,' I mumbled, holding his frail body closer. How thin he'd become. 'You are totally recovered from your pneumonia, aren't you?'

'As recovered as I ever am from any disease.'

'You'll never be sick again! Not when you have me to take care of you!'

All through the night he held me, and I held him. We talked of our dreams, our life together, and for the life of me it all seemed like smoke spiralling out the windows and fading into the night. How could I marry him now? How could I not marry him, no matter what our relationship?

Toward dawn, I brought up the portrait doll of my mother again. Did he know if Tony had made the model? Did at one point in time Tony feel more than a stepfather toward her? His dark eyes clouded. 'No! Not in a million years! Heaven, Tony could have any woman he wanted! He was madly in love with Jillian! There wasn't a woman around who didn't make a play for him. . . why since the time he grew his first beard, he's never had to chase any woman. They chased him.'

I knew as I lay in the circle of his arms that he'd never admit to himself that Tony used women, and had used Jillian in his own thoughtless way, to provide his younger brother with a mother and a sister while he went his own merry way chasing every skirt

in town, and all over Europe. Tears were in my eyes as I turned to embrace him before I returned to the big house.

'I'm sorry to be so suspicious. I love you, love you, love you, and I'll be back as soon as I catch up on some sleep. Don't go away, promise?'

He sat up, clinging to both of my hands. 'Have lunch with me, darling, about one.' I nodded and he gently kissed my wrist.

I stumbled back through the maze and returned to the mansion. How cold and imposing it felt now. I understood, too late perhaps, why Troy chose the cottage; it may be small, but at least there was intimacy there, familiarity, comfort. Farthy offered me none of that.

By the time I got to my room, something dreadful was clawing at my insides, desperate to get out. While Troy's heartbeat had been so slow and his chest felt paper thin, my pulse raced and my body still burned with fever. I worried now that perhaps I'd held Troy too closely. Was it possible that the pneumonia could have warped itself inside of me and I could have returned it to Troy? He was already so frail. In my delirium, my confusion, my heartache and exhaustion, I imagined his beautiful skin igniting with the heat I had bled into him when I crushed his frail body against mine. Would I return to the cottage to find nothing left of Troy but wisps of smoke?

I sat down on the edge of my bed, shaking. I wanted, desperately, to lay my head down. I began to slowly undress, but then-

I remembered: this bed had been my mother's. Was this one of the places where Tony had–

Oh god, I couldn't stay here! Not here, where my mother had cried and been violated and hurt in so similar a way to what Cal had done to me. Did my mother fight? Or had she, like me, cowered and internalised her shame, her hurt, her rage? Had she kept it all closely bound to her heart until, at last, it had uncoiled ruthlessly and suddenly, a violin string strung too tight until the final pluck had broken it cleanly off?

My mother had run. She had more conviction than me, more strength it seemed. I had not run from Cal. It was only his desire to be rid of me and perhaps find a new unwitting girl to charm into bed that had set me on that plane to Boston. But then, Leigh had run from Tony to a different kind of man. She found Luke Casteel and, for however brief a time, love. I wondered then, if my mother had known that she was to die in the hills giving birth to her daughter she had never asked for or wanted, would she have done things differently? Would she have gone with Luke that day in Atlanta? Had whatever moments of pleasure she had in those last few moments been worth it? Or would she have continued on her journey to Texas instead?

I knew then, somehow knew, that she would have chosen love. After the horror of Tony, the trauma of this place and living through so much pain, she would have chosen love. And in that moment I knew, suddenly and for the first time, just who Leigh VanVoreen was. Because that part of her lived on inside of me.

Tears burned my eyelids as I smiled, absentmindedly gazing at the closet. My thoughts wandered and I suddenly remembered how, beneath layers of fancy coats, dresses, shoes and all manner of other luxuries that had been but a dream in my youth, my mother's suitcase was still tucked away. How strange that she had run from here, never to return, only for two of the things she ran with to make their way back together. Stranger still that I was just where she had been when she had run. Crippled inside by the perversion of Tony's lust and what it had robbed from me.

I am my mother's daughter, I thought, pushing back my tears. I choose love.

Suddenly I was digging around in the closet, searching for that suitcase. It took some time. One of the maids must have moved it while they were cleaning. But there it was, all the way at the back; and as I dragged it out and threw it down on the bed, I remembered being that young girl in the cabin and discovering this suitcase for the first time. I had been so in awe of Angel and her collection of riches. But now, in this grand room, I realised that Angel had not thought about when she had packed. A solid silver toilet kit, a few dresses that had educed almost to ash, a brush and hand cream. And of course her portrait doll that had long since been destroyed.

I had always considered my mother foolish for choosing such a man as Luke Casteel. But now, with as much love in my heart as I had for Troy, I realised that Pa had truly loved his Angel. He loved her so much that he could never let go of her, and he had kept me, despite my presence being a constant and very painful reminder of her. He hadn't sent me back here. She must have told him who I was and what had happened to her – and he had wanted her anyway. So he had, for her, kept me away from Tony and this house she had hated so much.

All of my mother's possessions were scattered on the floor in seconds, and I was mindlessly throwing coats, dresses, and shirts of my own back into that suitcase. I grabbed a long, white, glittery dress that Tony has given me before I left to see my family. It was a gift to wear to an upcoming snowball, the night he had intended for Troy and I to officially announce our engagement. I shoved that dress into the suitcase, grabbed my favourite perfume and a few bits of jewellery, as well as my finest pair of pink heels that glittered with crystals and small, delicate flowers that had been handwoven onto the straps. When the suitcase was heaving, I clasped the lock tight.

The house had began to stir; I could smell breakfast being prepared, as I moved slowly down the stairs, and the clatter of plates as they were pulled from the kitchen cupboards. I was careful as I dragged that suitcase through the maze and back into Troy's cottage. When I got there, Troy's face lit up with a warm smile.

'Back so soon,' he whispered into my hair when I climbed into bed with him.

'Troy…' I said softly as I kissed his beautiful lips. 'I want to get married.'

'So do I,' he said, chuckling. He took my hand with the giant diamond dangling off of it and kissed it gently. 'I thought I had made that especially clear when I gave you this. But, if you need more convincing, I'm more than happy to oblige…'

His lips found mine and I swear to god, it felt like he was somehow drawing strength from me and pulling it into his own body. While I felt my chest grow cold with fear that Tony would come along any moment and ruin my plan, Troy's cheeks flashed with new life and colour. The longer he held me in his arms, the warmer his body grew. But as he began to remove my clothes and his lips travelled down my neck, destined to travel the roadmap of my body until they reached my breasts–

'No, darling, I mean…' I whispered softly as I gently pressed him away. Hurt blossomed in his eyes, and I knew I had to add balm to the wounds I had cut into him when I didn't return on time, and had just now cauterised with my stupid words. 'No, not that. Always that,' I said as I kissed him deeply and his smile, thankfully, returned. 'I mean now. I want to marry you right now.'

His eyes started to brim with colour and light. But he was also staring at me with a strange wariness I'd never seen in him before; there was love too, so much love, desire and... something else I couldn't quite place. 'Heavenly… why–'

'Can you do this for me darling?' I asked, desperate to end his questions and get him up out of bed. Something was screaming at me that I had to do this now, run, run now, just as Leigh had done, only this time, take Troy too. 'I need this. I need you, always, from right now until whatever cursed day that comes in the future that will part us. Give me this Troy, please… and everything I do from now on will be for you. I love you.'

He stared at me, warmth returning to his beautiful eyes, before–

'Heaven… as much as I long to say yes, there is Tony to consider. He should be there when we–'

'He will be, in spirit,' I said quickly, smiling to cover up my panic that, back up at the big house, Tony would be preparing for his day and wondering why I wasn't joining him for breakfast with an update on my breakup from Troy. 'All our loved ones will be,' I added. 'But this is about us Troy. You and me. Besides, Tony loves you so much that he'll understand that we simply couldn't wait to be man and wife. Please Troy…' I pleaded when still he said nothing. 'I need this, need so desperately for you to be mine. I love you so much darling. Don't make me wait any longer to be your wife. I promise, as long as I live, I'll never ask you to do anything like this again. But today, I need this from you.'

My heart raced as his eyes slipped away from mine and over to my mother's suitcase. He stared at it for a second, puzzled, something troubling flashing there, before–

'Give me 10 minutes to pack,' he said, suddenly pushing himself up from the bed, excitement energising his voice. 'Then I'm all yours.'

I sighed in relief as I watched him glide quickly to the closet. He was naked, and I marvelled at how lucky I was that so fine a man, no matter what he was to me, would soon be my husband. Troy saw me watching his naked body in the mirror. He locked his eyes with mine in the glass and smiled with a knowing look. 'I suppose we should have savoured the last time we were in bed together a little more.'

'What do you mean?' I asked nervously, wondering why he was taking so long to pack, shaking because every minute we stayed here we risked Tony showing up and, doing what Tony did best, destroy our hopes and dreams.

'Just that once we are married,' Troy said with a far-off look. 'You might find me a little less exciting, since it won't be sinful anymore.'

'Oh, I don't know about that…' I whispered back.

Troy wrote a short note to Tony explaining that we were eloping. His beautiful, sensitive heart was eager for his brother to forgive our impulsiveness. But it wasn't for Tony to forgive anything I thought bitterly; it was for us to forgive him, if we were ever ready.

But I said none of this. Instead, I chewed on my nails impatiently waiting for Troy to hurry, hurry, hurry…

And then, miraculously, our suitcases were loaded into the boot of his car and he was pulling out of the narrow gravel driveway. As we turned the bend that attached Troy's cottage to Farthingale Manor, I glanced back at the cottage, knowing we would soon return to it as man and wife.

And then I saw, just on the edge of the maze, a finely-pressed blazer beneath a silken cascade of platinum-blonde tresses. And from that angelic face, two huge cornflour blue eyes stared out at me.

Jillian, who never rose before noon, had today.

I didn't want to think about what that might mean.