She had the time to comfort a maid, but she’d no time for him.
Rage had rolled off him with such force that she felt it physically. He wasn’t angry at his airship, or the trees, or whatever had caused his crash. Instead, he’d focused all his rage on her, as if she were responsible for what had happened to him. As if hewantedher to be responsible.
When had he ever trusted her?
She felt oddly heavy, as if she weighed twice what she had that morning. Her movements were slower, as if she’d also aged since then.
She tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as if her chest were constricted or the air too thick to draw into her lungs.
Her hand rested at her throat, fingers playing with the cameo she’d pinned there this morning. She knew the face carved on the surface by touch. Could imagine even the cameo turning to stare at him incredulously.
She felt a tear spill over and trail down her cheek, but she didn’t move to brush it away. Instead, she turned and began to walk back to Doncaster Hall, Elspeth falling into place beside her. The distance back to the house seemed immeasurable, the path littered with broken glass.
Every inhabitant of Doncaster Hall looked at her with shock in their eyes. Everyone but Elspeth, who didn’t speak, merely glared at them.
Veronica’s hands tightened into fists. She released them with some effort, straightening her fingers. Take a deep breath. Wipe away your tears. Go home.
Doncaster Hall was suddenly not home. She had no home. Not one anchor existed. No bulwark. No lodestone. She was as alone as she’d ever been.
She wanted to be gone from there so desperately, she began to think of all the people in the world who might take her in, offer her sanctuary.
She had no place to go.
Norma had a more hopeful future, for all she was expecting a child out of wedlock. She might be shunned by her relatives, cast aside by her friends, and made the subject of a moral lesson in Kirk. In a few years, people would forgive or forget. She’d have her child and a future substantially brighter than Veronica’s.
How could Montgomery think she would harm him?
The crowd that had been so effusive in their relief fell silent as she moved through them. Elspeth was the only one who accompanied her. Elspeth, who would be, she suspected, loyal despite any circumstance.
“Tell me about the Tullochs,” she said.
Elspeth glanced over at her, a look of concern still on her face. “What would you like to know, Your Ladyship?”
“You’re certain your grandmother would know the origins of the mirror?”
“If it’s the same, Lady Fairfax. It doesn’t look like it did when I was a child, but the diamonds might be new.”
“How far away is Kilmarin?”
“By train? A half day, perhaps.” Elspeth looked at her curiously. “Have you a mind to go there, Your Ladyship?”
“Yes,” she said, glancing back toward the grove of trees. “We’ll leave this afternoon.”
“We will?”
She turned to look at her maid, forcing a smile she didn’t feel to her face. “Didn’t you say you had family nearby?”
Elspeth’s look of confusion turned to joy. “There would be time to visit with my family?”
She nodded.
Elspeth looked as if she might begin dancing.
At least someone was happy.
Chapter 27
Acool whispery breeze bid them farewell from Doncaster Hall, fluttering the leaves as if the trees were waving goodbye. The soot-colored sky heralded an approaching storm. The perfect Highland morning had disappeared. In its place were rolling gray clouds and the scent of rain in the air.
