It wasn’t easy leaving her entire world behind. Even if she did plan to come back eventually. Packing her bag, even for a couple weeks, had felt like she was abandoning the world she knew. And she was, wasn’t she? She had never been to England before, never even met her maternal grandmother or any of her family, really, and now here she was, flying across the Atlantic to attend the funeral of a stranger.

The engines of the plane gave a gentle roar and the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign blinked on above her head. Well, it was too late to turn back now.

Glancing down at the papers on her lap, Ellie Fitzgerald sighed. Three days ago, she had been outlining her dissertation on Regency England, a period she had been drawn to since before she could remember, and worrying about whether her cute but gawky classmate, Seth, was going to ask her out on their third date.

Then she got the call.

“Elizabeth Fitzgerald?” came the voice on the other end of the line. The voice was British, curt and concise, but ever so polite.

Confused, Ellie frowned. Why was an Englishman calling her at two in the afternoon on a Saturday? “Yes, this is she. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man said. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but my name is Barnard Seton, and I am the late Victoria Hargrove’s attorney. I am calling to discuss the parameters of her will.”

All the breath escaped from Ellie’s lungs. Her knees collapsed and she sank to the floor, leaning against her bed. “L-late?” she stammered, not comprehending. “Do you mean…is my grandmother…she’s gone?”

The deafening silence on the other end of the line confirmed that she was.

Ellie’s heart ached with grief. She had never even met her grandmother, but she had always wanted to, and knowing she had family in England had been one of the only things keeping her connected to the memory of her mother, whom she had lost when she was just thirteen years old. Now her grandmother was gone as well; there was no one left. Tears slid freely down her cheeks, but Ellie didn’t brush them away.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Barnard replied, his voice full of sympathy. “I thought you knew. I sent you a letter by post only a few days ago. My apologies that I reached you before you had received it.”

A letter. He sent a letter? Pulling herself to her feet, Ellie rushed over to the little stool by the front door of her studio apartment and rifled through her mail until she found an envelope from Seton & Associates. She hastily ripped a letter opener across the top and retrieved the contents.

“The instructions in your grandmother’s will,” Barnard continued, “state that she has bequeathed you all of her material and financial belongings, including Hargrove House.”

“She left me a house?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hargrove House. The estate has been in your family for generations and, seeing as her only daughter passed on thirteen years ago, you are Lady Hargrove’s sole heir and beneficiary. However, the will stipulates you will need to come to Dover to formally receive the estate.”

Disbelief warred with delight. She owned a house. Ellie had never even owned so much as a room before. Even her car was a hand-me-down from her father. And now she owned a house in...

“Wait, did you just say I have to come to Dover to receive my inheritance? As in Dover, Kent in England?”

“Yes, ma’am.” If Barnard thought her funny or possibly even missing a few marbles, he certainly didn’t show it. “As soon as possible, ma’am. Your grandmother wanted you to accept the estate within two weeks of her passing.”

Ellie’s heart sank and her normally pale cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she managed to murmur, her voice barely above a whisper, “but I can’t afford a ticket to England in two weeks. I can’t even manage it in two years. I’m…I’m a grad student. I wait tables and study history for a living. I mean, I’m only twenty-six. I’m sorry, Mr. Seton. I’m just not going to be able to make that work.”

“All the arrangements have been taken care of,” he replied kindly. “Your airline ticket should be included with the letter I sent you, as is a letter from your grandmother. We will be expecting you by the end of the week.”

Ellie closed her eyes and listened to the captain tell the cabin to prepare for landing. She heard the stewardess advising passengers to close their trays and put their seats in an upright position.

She was almost there.

Fighting back nerves, Ellie gazed down at her Grandmother’s letter, laying in her lap.

My dearest Elizabeth,

You must think me a horrible grandmother, dear, never making the trip over to meet you. However, you mustn’t think less of me. I had my reasons, and I promise you, I had only your best interests at heart.

If you are reading this letter, that means that I am gone. And, as your mother, my sweet Anne, passed away so long ago, all I have now belongs to you. My belongings, my estate. My burdens.

There are responsibilities you must uphold for the Hargroves, my dear grandchild. Hargrove House is yours, though you have never lain eyes on her. She now belongs to you, and I implore you not to give her up, no matter how tempting the offer may be. Her walls hold many secrets, my dear, but many treasures as well, and I am hoping that you will be able to find love and happiness within them.

Hargrove House has been in the family for generations. It has always been my home. Now it is yours.

All my love,

Grandmother Victoria Hargrove