It had also been the most foolish thing she’d ever done. She was governess to Alec’s sisters, a servant in his household. Her cheeks burned at the thought.
The girls. She sat up with a gasp. If she’d ended up here in the tower in a compromising position, where on earth were they? She slipped carefully out from under the warm plaid and scooted around his sleeping figure to snatch up her gown. It was cold as she pulled it over her head and belted it with Sorcha’s ribbon. The dress was wrinkled and stained with telltale green marks of moss, the black of soot, but it couldn’t be helped. She glanced up at the sky, pink with promise, and sent up a prayer that it was still early enough that she could make it back to the castle unseen. She cast one last look at him as he lay asleep, as beautiful as an angel, and hurried out into the predawn darkness.
“Don’t you think we should wake him, send him after her?” Angus asked as Caroline fled down the hillside, her hair trailing behind her in wild, love-tangled curls. He’d loved to coil Georgiana’s curls around his finger as she lay in his arms after they’d made love.
Georgiana shook her head. “No, she’ll need time to think, to realize ...”
“What?” Angus prompted when she didn’t finish. He grinned. “Let me guess. She’ll need time to realize that it was the best night o’ her life.”
Georgiana rolled her eyes. “She’ll need time to realize that she loves him, despite what happened here this night.”
“Despite it?” Angus cried. “Because of it, more like.”
Georgiana set her hands on her hips and glared at him. “A little rough wooing and you think she can’t live without him, that no other man—any other man—could do what he did? How arrogant you are! She was a virgin, and he seduced her in a crumbling tower, on the hard ground.”
Angus pushed his cap back on his head, staring at the telltale glitter in her eyes. She floated before him, but her eyes were on Caroline. He felt an almost overwhelming wave of sadness. “I thought this was what you intended to happen between them. It was the same for us, was it not? You were a virgin the night when we—” He stopped to clear his throat. “Are ye saying that ye regret what we did?”
She fixed her eyes on him. “Of course not. I regret that it was the one and only time, and that nothing ever lived up to that moment again. Oh Angus, have we made a mistake? What if we’ve only caused them more unhappiness, sentenced them to a lifetime of regret and pain?”
He came closer, raised his hand to her cheek, felt nothing but frustration that he could not touch her, even to offer comfort. “Is there a battle tomorrow I don’t know of? He’s got no brothers to drag him away from the lass, and she’s no father to drag her back to England. They’re here, together. They aren’t going anywhere. Why, later this morning, he’ll wake up and return to the castle. He’ll seek her out, and drop to one knee and—”
Georgiana whooped as Alec ran right through his grandfather’s shade, his plaid belted askew as he tried to pull on his shirt and run down the hill at the same time. They stared after him as he leaped over the last embers of the dying Midsummer fire, dodging the folk still sleeping peacefully in the dew-soaked grass, before pausing, returning to look into their sleeping faces.
“There now, you see?” Angus said smugly, straightening his plaid. “He’s looking for her now.”
“Sophie?” They turned at the sound of Alec’s whisper. “Are you here?”
“Sophie?” Georgiana repeated, her horrified whisper rustling the trees, startling a bird into panicked flight. “He still thinks Caroline is someone namedSophie? Even after—”
Angus felt a hard knot of trepidation in his gut. He watched his grandson search among the sleeping lasses for the woman he’d just spent the night with, a woman whose name he didn’t even know.
“They couldna introduce themselves?” Angus asked. “Just a potion, ye said, woman. That’s all it would take and everything would unfold as it should, and the curse would end.”
“It must have been too strong, too much meadowsweet, perhaps,” Georgiana fretted.
“It wasonlythe potion, don’t you see? She isn’t the right woman, or he isn’t the right man!” Angus said angrily. “It didn’t work.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “How can you say that? You saw how they were dancing, the passion in their eyes—”
“ ’Twas the ale and the firelight, nothing more,” Angus grumbled. “He’s obviously in love with someone else, someone named Sophie.”
Georgiana shook her head, wringing her hands. “No, it’s not possible! If he loves this Sophie, then why is he here, dallying with Caroline?”
Angus gave her a level look. “He’s a man,gràdhach, and she’s a lovely lass.”
“Oh, what have we done?” Georgiana cried. “I must go to Caroline, though heaven knows what I can do to help her now. Nothing, nothing at all.”
Angus watched her fade away against the dawn, and stared at Alec, who was staring up at the tower as if he were daft and bewitched both. Angus recalled exactly that feeling. He’d stood in the same spot on a Midsummer morning long ago, unable to think of anything or anyone but Georgiana, and the sweetness of the night in her arms. Even when his brothers had climbed the hill to take him, he’d stood there, unable to move for pure love, for joy. He’d opened his mouth as they reached him, ready to declare his love for Georgiana, but Niall had drawn back his fist and punched the grin off his face. The next thing he knew he was waking up on a ship, sick as a dog. He’d certainly felt daft and bewildered then too, and for an entirely different reason.
Angus watched as Alec turned to look down at the road. There was a grand coach trundling along the rutted track, followed by several carts, all heavily laden. He frowned at the grand gold crest on the side of the coach, at the six matched white horses that drew the vehicle toward Glenlorne. Angus drifted closer to his grandson’s side. “Now who’s this coming?” he asked, though he knew Alec could not hear him.
“Sophie,” Alec murmured, and took off running down the hillside.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Caroline slipped through the kitchen door and took the stairs two at a time, heading for the girls’ shared bedchamber first of all, dreading what she might find—or not find—there. She almost sagged to the floor in relief when she saw three heads on three pillows, all fast asleep, with nothing more dangerous than a few wilted wildflowers littering the floor. She drew the blanket up around Sorcha’s chin, and went to her own room.
She shut the door and leaned on it for a moment. No one had seen her. Relief flooded her, and she crossed to scrub her face in cold water, though it did nothing to cool the burn of her cheeks. She stared into the mirror, regarding her face in the first rays of the sun. Did she look different?
