After breakfast, the morning air was chilly in the garden, but I breathed it in deeply.

I wondered if the cat from last night was the one on the window ledge. It was still there and reminded me of a silent guardian. I approached it, half expecting it to disappear. Instead, it looked at me and jumped down to meet me.

The cat sauntered over and wound itself around my legs. It purred against my shins. "Hello there," I said, bending down to stroke its sleek fur. It looked up at me with golden eyes and then headed back towards the inn.

I followed, amused. Its tail was in the air as if it owned the place. As if it was as much a part of the inn as the roses and lavender. As it reached the door, it halted and turned towards me, waiting for permission to come in. "Well," I said. "I guess you know where you're going." The cat made a small mew that sounded like agreement and disappeared inside.

I followed it into the conservatory. My guests were still deep in conversation about local legends. 

They didn't seem to notice us come in, or were too polite to say anything.

The cat moved purposefully around the room, past chairs and between legs, until it found a sunny spot on the windowsill. It settled down with a contented sigh. It was saying "This is my place".

And in all honesty, it looked like it was.

I sat down next to the cat on the soft cushion of the window seat. The light streamed in through the conservatory windows, casting bright patches of coloured sunlight onto the tiled floor through the stained glass. "I think I'm going to call you Ebony," I said to the cat. My voice was lost in the general hum of conversation in the room. Ebony, the cat, looked up at me and then purred. "I guess you like that name."

As I stroked her fur, I noticed Elias break away from the group. He was looking at Ebony with a mixture of curiosity and recognition. He sauntered over, hands behind his back, reminding me of one of my lecturers at college.

"Ah," he said, "your feline friend there reminds me of a local legend." He said, drawing us into his world of myths and memories.

"Tell me more," I encouraged, intrigued.

Elias cleared his throat. "Well, the story goes that black cats in Llyncroft represent greed. Not their own greed, you understand, but human greed. There was once a wealthy merchant who lived in these parts. He was known for his wealth and for always wanting more. Apparently, he had a black cat a bit like Ebony here."

He leaned down to stroke Ebony, who welcomed the attention with a gentle tilt of her head.

"The merchant believed the cat brought him luck. He believed his fortune would thrive as long as the cat stayed with him. And it did. But as his wealth grew, so did the shadows in his heart, until they consumed him."

I paid attention, although I wondered how any of the stories he was making up as he liked the attention.

"One stormy night," he continued, dropping his voice for dramatic effect, "a stranger visited the merchant. The stranger was cloaked in black, darker than the darkest night. He offered the merchant a deal. The stranger said he could make the merchant wealthy forever, but he would have to give up something precious to him."

The room seemed to fall silent around us.

"The merchant agreed instantly, but when he went to get the precious thing, there was nothing missing from his house. Instead, when he returned to the stranger, his black cat was gone. The cat and the visitor had disappeared into thin air."

Elias paused. He looked me directly in the eyes. "From that day on," he said in a low voice, "it was said that any black cat seen alone at night might carry the burden of someone's greed on its silent paws."

Henry's laughter filled the room. "You could say that about a ginger cat, as they are more golden," he said, pushing his glasses back up his nose and looking at me with a smile.

I laughed. "You're right," I said, looking down at Ebony who was basking in the sunlight. "But there's something special about a black cat, isn't there?"

Elias nodded. "Yes, there is. They feature in many an old wives' tale, always have." Oliver called out from across the room. "And what about white cats?" he said, grinning. "What do they mean?"

I looked over at Oliver, who was leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head as if he'd just asked the hardest question of the day.

Elias rubbed his chin. "Innocence, usually," he said. "Or sometimes, they're a sign of change."

I stood up from the window seat. "Talking about change, I need to get ready. I've got guests coming this afternoon. I've decided to throw a housewarming party later today. A celebration of Willow Grove reopening."

There were nods and smiles. "I'd love for you all to come," I said, smiling at them.

Margaret Pembrooke clapped her hands together. "What a wonderful idea." She said. "If you need any help setting up, I'm more than happy to help with arranging or decorating."

I was grateful for her offer of help. I still had a lot I wanted to make happen today. "That would be great, thank you, Margaret," I said. I was worried I/d bitten off more than I could chew. Marcus and I had enjoyed throwing parties, but this would be the first one I'd done by myself.

Margaret's enthusiasm was infectious, causing everyone else in the room to offer help.

Elias said he could tell some local history stories during the event, so at least it would be educational. I hoped people would be as interested in them as I was.

Oli said he would bring his paranormal equipment over, just in case any uninvited ghostly guests turned up. What could possibly go wrong? I was going to have to watch him. Bella just rolled her eyes at him.

I was nervous about the housewarming as I wanted the villagers to like me. I'd only met a few of them when I'd been out and about over the last week or so.

I was worried they would judge everything. From the cleanliness of the linen, to how fresh the roses on the table were, even the tea I had chosen. I'm sure I was never really a worrier before this, but I'd done nothing like this alone.

I'd chosen to bring lavender and rosemary into the conservatory as their scent was supposed to be soothing, but it wasn't working for me right now.

What if they didn't like me? What if they didn't think I was right for the place?

As we prepared, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the conservatory, bathing everything in a warm, golden light. I glanced at the clock. We only had a couple of hours before the housewarming guests arrived.

Margaret effortlessly rearranged the flowers and set out the tea service. Oli and Bella were somewhere upstairs, and were quiet, which Margaret stated was always a little worrying. You never knew what mischief they would get into. Gideon's impressive strength was showcased while effortlessly handling delicate fairy lights.

I took a deep steading breath. "You can do this," I whispered.

Ebony jumped from her perch and trotted towards me. She looked up with those piercing green eyes as if to say, "You've got this." Her presence was oddly comforting.

In the kitchen, the refreshments were ready. The scent of freshly baked scones filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of brewing tea. I carefully arranged them on a tiered tray, adding clotted cream and jam alongside.

As I stepped back to admire my work. Just as I was about to head upstairs to check on Oliver and Bella, there was a knock at the door. My heart leapt into my throat.

"They're here," Margaret said with a warm smile. She walked to the door as I glanced around, checking for perfection.

Margaret reached for the door handle, but Ebony growled from her spot by the window. The sound sent chills down my spine.