‘But how?’
There was a pause, and then Betty said, ‘You’re not the only one with regrets, Miranda. Most people don’t know the truth about my poor son Harry.’
Miranda looked up. ‘He died in an accident, didn’t he?’
‘Well, not exactly.’ Betty took a long, deep breath. ‘Harry came back from the war changed. That carefree boy had been replaced by a man haunted by ghosts. My neighbours and friends had similar stories. They said, “Don’t press him, don’t ask him to remember, he’ll come around.” But then he started saying things that weren’t right, things that couldn’t have happened.’ She took a long, juddery breath. ‘They took him to an asylum after he was found on the railway bridge, about to throw himself off, but even then they couldn’t save him. I felt like I failed him, Miranda. My only son, and I failed him when he needed me most.’ Miranda held Betty tightly as she cried. ‘I didn’t know how to help him.’
‘How did you get through it after he died?’ Miranda asked.
‘It was Caroline, Hilda, my friends.’ Betty put an arm around her shoulders. ‘And now you have me, and the group at the palace, too.’
Miranda felt tears coming again as she leaned into her aunt, now knowing she was the one person Miranda could fully rely on, the one who would always be there if everything else went awry.
‘Please stop pushing people away, Miranda,’ Betty whispered. ‘The world is turning, and you’re missing all it has to offer. And promise me you’ll make amends with that young man of yours.’
‘Sinclair’s just a friend, Betty, nothing more than that.’
‘Whatever he is, just make up with him, Miranda. Start living life again. You think you’re brave – and you are, very brave! – but there’s one matter where you’re a big old coward. Until you face Jack’s death, you’ll never truly live.’
Miranda began to think about how disconnected she’d become. In her attempt to make herself invincible, she’d only made herself something quite different: lonely.
The more she tried to push her tears away, the faster they came, so much so that she had to wipe her eyes. Before she knew it, she buried her face in her hands and, unable to stop Betty’s arms around her, she sobbed.
It was time to let Jack go.
CAROLINE
CAROLINE STOOD OUTSIDE BALMORAL’S SERVICE ENTRANCE, breathing in the fresh morning air. Angus was picking her up for what he called a Highland Tour, and after the whirl of the previous evening, she could hardly wait.
Last night, Angus had been as kind and thoughtful as ever, and even though the chemistry between them couldn’t have been stronger, he’d kept his distance, politely driving her home at the end of the evening, making jokes and smiling as he opened the car door for her and walked her safely back into the castle.
‘Let’s hope it stays that way,’ she murmured, worrying about her own resolve to keep her distance from him. She’d never been one to go against society’s rules, yet here, in the beauty of another world, it felt so natural to fall back into his arms.
All she had to do was remember what she would have to give up, her dear Annabel, and she knew she couldn’t put a foot wrong.
Right on time, Angus drove up, two black labradors sitting eagerly in the back as she stepped inside. ‘What lovely dogs! Are they yours?’
‘Meet Peggy and Skye. They’re part of the gun dog team but come home with me every night.’ He grinned, glancing at her trousers. ‘I’m glad you’re dressed for the occasion.’ He opened the door for her. ‘We have a lot of ground to cover, and’ – he glanced at the sky – ‘it might rain.’
‘I came prepared, just in case.’ Laughing, she felt almost giddy with excitement. How good it felt, if only for the day.
The night before, as she tried to get comfortable in the servant’sroom, she made a promise to herself. There was to be no worrying about Frank and the debts, nor was she to think about Miss Driscoll, about how much trouble the woman could cause if she put it together.
No, today was a day for living, and even if she was living a dream that could never be, at least she would always have those precious hours.
‘I hope you had a good night’s rest?’ Angus asked as he drove down to the road.
‘It’s so quiet up here away from everything,’ she said, thinking how perfect it was. ‘And the breakfast was wonderful, fresh kippers and scrambled eggs. A feast compared to my usual slice of toast on the way out of the door.’
‘Ah, there’s no better fare than in Balmoral Castle!’ He chuckled. ‘I eat there most evenings, unless I have a fresh catch.’
‘Do you fish?’
‘When I get the time. There are some good rivers if you go off the path, wooded areas that are so tranquil you feel like you’re part of nature itself.’
From the road, he veered off onto a smaller laneway, the track becoming uneven as the car climbed higher, surrounded by gorse and the bright pink of heather. Stopping the car, he turned to her. ‘Are you ready for a walk?’
‘Absolutely!’
