"Lord Melfield, Lady Aurora, Miss Eleanor, welcome back to Taymer Palace." Annabelle's voice was steady and respectful. Now in her fifties, her posture was still ramrod straight. Her silver-gray hair was pulled back into a meticulous bun, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes were etched by the passage of time. "Everything has been prepared according to your prior instructions."
With Aurora's support, Murphy slowly stepped out of the carriage.
Eleanor followed behind them, her curious gaze taking in the magnificent palace that had belonged to her birth mother.
The glow of the setting sun gilded the white buildings and softened the lines on Murphy's face.
He took a deep breath of the warm, humid southern air and gave Annabelle a slight nod. "My thanks."
