But Angus was staring out the window at the road once again. “Dear God! I’m seeing a ghost!”
Georgiana looked down. A cart was trundling by, but the only ghost was the spinning veil of dust chasing the vehicle. The young woman seated beside the driver was staring up at the tower, squinting in the sun, one hand clutching tight to her bonnet. A long red curl fluttered loose in the breeze. “ ’Tis you,gràdhach! What kind of sorcery—”
Georgiana laughed, and he turned to her in surprise. She ignored him for a moment, kept her eyes fixed on the girl in the cart, felt pride and relief swell in her hollow breast. “It’s my granddaughter Caroline, here at last,” she said. She gave Angus a dazzling smile as the cart rounded a curve of the road and disappeared over the lip of the valley, heading for the new castle.
Angus looked at her, stunned. “How did you manage—” he began, but she gave him a coquettish smile.
“You think she looks like me, do you?”
Angus shook himself and nodded, feeling foolish. “Aye. Same hair, same white skin. Is that the lass you intend for Alec?”
She grinned. “Yes. What do you think?”
He groaned. “Heaven help him. One look into those eyes and he’ll be a lost man. That’s a feeling I remember all too well!”
“If he ever gets here,” Georgiana said, her toes curling at Angus’s unwitting compliment.
“Aye,” he murmured, staring after the cart. “And he’d better get here soon.”
CHAPTERNINE
Caroline sat on the hillside in the shadow of the old tower of Glenlorne with her new charges and watched the clouds hurry across a perfect blue sky like debutantes on a dance floor. The countess had been glad to accept Miss Forrester in Miss Best’s place, once she had been assured that Caroline had the same skills and even more talents to teach the girls, and was of good breeding and sound moral character.
“There’ll be rain tonight,” twelve-year-old Sorcha said gloomily, following Caroline’s gaze.
“Then it will make the flowers grow!” Megan said. At eighteen, she was pretty and sophisticated.
“Most especially lavender and wild rose, and mistletoe, Megan,” seventeen-year-old Alanna said in a teasing tone.
“And plenty of meadowsweet and damiana,” Sorcha added. “Muira said you had to find damiana.” She and Alanna nudged each other and grinned like conspirators.
Megan’s chin rose, and Caroline watched a blush kiss her cheeks. “And what are the flowers for?” she asked gently.
“ ’Tis Midsummer’s Eve tomorrow night,” Sorcha said.
“You celebrate St. John’s Eve? Midsummer?” Caroline asked in surprise, more that Devina would allow it than in any disapproval of the old custom on her part.
Alanna giggled. “I suppose they aren’t so superstitious in England. We’re not supposed to, I know, but lots of Highlanders still honor the old ways. Midsummer’s Eve is really just an excuse for a party. There’ll be a bonfire and dancing. Nothing to harm our souls.”
“I know.” Caroline smiled. “We did the same in England where I grew up.” They were supposed to be reading a treatise on the housewifely duties of an English lady, but the glorious weather and the excitement of the celebration made it hard to concentrate, even for Caroline. The wind was warm, the wildflowers fragrant, and Glenlorne was undoubtedly the most beautiful place she’d ever been. “How do you celebrate here?”
Alanna shrugged her shoulders. “Cakes and ale by a bonfire, that’s all it is.”
“No it isn’t. Not if you believe in the old ways—then there’s magic, and fairies, and love spells to be cast,” Sorcha said, grinning at Caroline. “Old Muira’s promised to make a love charm for Megan this year, to see if she’ll find a true love this coming year.”
Caroline watched a blush rise over Megan’s cheeks.
“Oh, she’s already found her true love!” Alanna said. “She likes Brodie. He’s our cousin, and he’ll be the next laird if Alec doesn’t come home. Mother insists we must marry English lords, but she’ll make an exception if Megan marries Brodie. She’ll be a countess, won’t she, miss?”
“Hush!” Megan got up and stamped her foot to stop the teasing.
“Och, she’ll need more than a love charm if she’s to win Brodie,” Alanna went on, despite her sister’s glare. “Every lass for a hundred miles around loves Brodie. He’s a braw laddie, even if he isn’t very smart, and he’s going to be the next laird.”
Megan blushed scarlet. “Mother says it will keep Glenlorne in the family, ’tis all.”
“If she’s lucky, she can jump the fire tomorrow night with Brodie,” Sorcha teased. “He’s to be the Midsummer king, and he’ll have to choose a queen. Megan’s sure he’ll choose her.” She pulled Alanna to her feet and they linked hands and danced in a circle around their sister.
“Maybe he’ll dance with you, give you flowers for your hair,” Sorcha teased. “And kiss you in the shadows where Mam can’t see.”
