The sun broke gently across the Burnett estate, painting the wide lawn in a golden hush. No birdsong yet. Just wind curling softly around the tall cypress trees lining the drive. Inside, the bridal suite on the east wing was already awake.

Sophie sat by the tall window, her robe belted neatly at the waist, one leg crossed over the other. Her hair was pinned up in large, soft curls, and her hands were clasped around a warm porcelain teacup. The scent of jasmine floated up with the steam. The room was still. Peaceful.

She hadn’t expected to feel this calm.

There had been no dreams, no pacing at dawn,...