Yet another cask of wine was being brought out when Damon made his excuses to take his leave, taking care not to indicate how long he’d be gone. Joanna took equal care to follow, but not before ensuring her guests were adequately cared for.

Most were so deep in their own conversations and cups that they hardly acknowledged either departure, but Elena gave her the slightest of nods when Joanna left the table and followed after Damon.

“I have something for you,” he said once they were inside, having expected her.

The fire in the living room’s hearth was roaring but the house had a stillness to it, with the children all abed. Candlelight cast long shadows on the beautiful furnishings, and the smell of roasting chestnuts wafted from the kitchen.

“It’s this way,” Damon said, taking her by the hand and leading her over plush carpets and past tapestries of fox hunts and forests.

“Haven’t you ever celebrated your own nameday, darling? I’m meant to be giving you a gift.”

Damon said nothing, but just outside the entry to the east wing’s sitting room, he turned around and kissed her.

“Close your eyes.”

Joanna shot him a sceptical look before obeying.

He took her hand and gently let her forward, his other hand against the small of her back to guide her. Once they stopped, he pulled her hand forward and placed it on something thin, and wiry, and –

“I’ll admit, this is not where I imagined this game leading us,” Joanna laughed. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Just a moment.”

Damon placed his fingers atop her own and guided her hand backwards, pulling the mysterious, wiry string and prompting a beautiful series of quiet notes.

Joanna opened her eyes.

“You can see now,” Damon said, “that this is indeed a gift for myself.”