Georgiana leaned on the railing of the gallery to survey the guests in the hall below.
“Is that your grandson? The blustery fellow with the bulgy eyes?” Angus asked.
“Yes.” Georgiana sighed. “That’s Somerson.” She took no pleasure in seeing him here. He’d come for Caroline, and she hoped her granddaughter would be strong enough to resist him. She could feel the anger emanating from Somerson, saw him looking for Caroline, checking his watch. The longer she made him wait, the worse it would go for her.
“I see he takes after your husband’s side of the family,” Angus said acidly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Georgiana demanded waspishly.
“He’s not an attractive lad, now is he?” Angus mused, stroking his chin. “Not like you and Caroline.”
“Neville is hardly a lad, and he’s one of the most powerful peers in England.” Georgiana sniffed.
“Neville?” Angus snickered. “Powerful, and one of the nicest chaps too, by the looks of him.”
“He’s the very image of his grandfather,” Georgiana said, recalling her husband. “The apple has not fallen far from the tree.”
“Looks like it’s got a worm in it, if you ask me. Tell me, do you ever seehim? Or his shade at least, the way you see me?”
Georgiana shuddered. “My husband? Of course not. Nor would I wish to. The long years of our wedded life were enough time together for both of us. More than enough.”
“Lucky man,” Angus muttered.
“Do you miss your grave so much?” Georgiana demanded, anger flaring.
“I meant I resent every single minute he spent with you that I was denied,” Angus snapped back. “I meant it as a compliment. Did you not recognize it as such?”
Georgiana looked at her hands, remembered where her lavish wedding ring had weighed on her finger, and looked at the finger of her other hand, where she’d worn Angus’s modest promise ring until she died. She had treasured the tiny ruby far more than the massive sapphire and pearl ring. Both were gone now, of course. The sapphires graced Charlotte’s fat finger.
“Forgive me. Somerson was not a one for giving compliments—at least not any that were directed my way. I quite got out of the habit of being complimented.”
“Then he was a fool, as well as uggsome. I would have told you every day how beautiful you are.”
“Uggsome?”
“The opposite of beautiful,” Angus said, staring down at Neville Forrester.
Georgiana felt tears come to her eyes. “We can’t change what’s past. Our time has come and gone. We can only help Caroline and Alec see how important it is to love and be loved. Do you understand that now?”
“O’ course I do. And I’m certain that’s why your Caroline can see me.”
“Because she’s in love with Alec?” Georgiana asked hopefully.
“She says she isn’t. I asked her directly. I would have sworn ... Och, I’ve seen the looks that pass between them. They scorch the air.” He pushed his bonnet back. “I thought it was working, our plan. I thought the lass could see me because shebelongshere, that she’s meant to be at Glenlorne. O’ course, I believed that of you too. We failed in our own time,gràdhach, and there’s more at stake now.” He turned to her, and she saw tears in his eyes. “Can we fix this—make them see—or will yon fool of an Englishman destroy everything?”
Georgiana looked down at her grandson’s hard, unfeeling face. “It’s up to Caroline now, and Alec. They must face the past and find a way. We can only do so much.”
Angus’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Then sixty years hence, it will be Alec and Caroline standing here, mourning the past,” Angus said, “and I’d not wish anyone that kind of torment.”
“Where is she, Glenlorne? Your letter said she was here.” The Earl of Somerson looked around Glenlorne’s great hall as if he was in the darkest slums of London, and his half sister had taken up a life in the demimonde. It made Alec look around his home himself, but instead of shame, or guilt, he felt pride. The walls were strong, the clan proud. They cared for each other, unlike this fool, and Bray too, who had everything money could buy, but lacked any human kindness.
“I assure you she’s here, my lord,” Mandeville said, quaffing another mug of ale and reaching for the pitcher. “We saw her only yesterday.”
Alec ignored him. “I understand that Lady Caroline has simply gone for a walk. She will likely be back shortly.”
“In this weather?” Countess Charlotte cried. “She’ll catch her death!”
Indeed. Alec glanced out the window at the steady downpour. Where the devil was she? He had images of flash floods, slippery crags, deep crevasses, and Caroline lying broken and bloody in the heather. He looked at his watch. He’d sent Jock and Hamish out to look for her an hour ago. If they hadn’t returned in ten minutes’ time, he’d go himself, abandon his guests, or let Sophie and the girls amuse them. Sophie had taken Lottie up to put her to bed. Devorguilla and the girls were managing the herculean task of finding quarters for everyone from the earl to his lowest footman. Was there anyone left in England?
