everything within his power to protect his siblings and see their dreams fulfilled.
“How is Wolf here?” she demanded, walking over.
Quickly, he relayed the story to her.
“Good heavens! The lady you are to wed is the one to whom I entrusted Wolf’s care? I am astonished at such serendipity.”
So am I, he silently thought and beckoned his sister to sit beside him.
“I spent months telling you about her. I knew she was not a figment of my overly active imagination,” she groused, settling on the sofa, curling into his side. A place where she wouldn’t have dreamt of being a year ago.
It was only since he’d been ill that Hugh and Caroline had become at ease with each other. He had kept her and William at a careful distance over the years. Seeing her sobbing at his bedside had affected Hugh, and the hardness surrounding his heart had been nudged at, and he had allowed her a lot closer. It had astonished him to learn that much of the distance that had existed between them had been due to his aloofness, which she had found off-putting. In a long heartfelt conversation, which had lasted until the wee hours of the morning, they had promised to be better siblings.
“I will do the reading tonight,” she said, smiling at their father.
Hugh passed her the novel, which they were more than halfway through, and drew his beast of a dog closer. Caroline started to read, and invariably his thoughts turned to Lady Phoebe, wondering if he had made the right decision. She had not been in his home for a day, and Hugh felt that he had been altered in a manner he had yet to understand or may never do.
And he still could not understand the emotions twisting through him. His heart raced, his senses were aware, and deep down, there was a peculiar sense of uncertainty. He had always embraced changes, hating when life seemed to stand still in any way.
Yet now his thoughts darted in several directions, refusing to respond to the control he’d mastered over his emotions years ago. It was with a jolting sense of bemusement that Hugh realized he anticipated the future state of being married to Lady Phoebe.
…
Phoebe glided down the curving staircase, her gloved hand trailing along the banner as she made her way to Hugh Winthrop. The beautifully rendered paintings that hung high on the wall commanded her gaze. She faltered in front of a portrait, which showed a rather handsome man with white-blond hair and vibrant green eyes. It was the elderly gentleman who had stood by the forecourt yesterday but had hobbled away. Surrounding him in the paintings were three children, and it was very easy to identify the viscount. Although she realized that the elder gentleman’s hair would have been a powdered wig as had been the fashion of the time, something struck her as peculiar. In the painting, Hugh appeared a lad of about fourteen years, and even then, he had been terribly handsome. Yet his eyes were so lonely.
Looking at his somber expression made her heart ache. Even the older gentleman possessed an air of sadness, his eyes also empty. Lowering her gaze to the other children, Phoebe blinked to see that both possessed a shock of bright red hair and gray eyes. There was no resemblance between anyone in the portrait—Phoebe frowned—except for the cheekbones. Each child shared high, slanted cheekbones, which lent an air of elegance to their attractiveness.
The clock in the hallway chimed. She took another step down and gasped at the pain that went through her ankle. Moving carefully, she held onto the banner and descended the stairs. She could hear the distant rumble of thunder through the thick stone walls of the castle. Rain fell in earnest with the occasional flash of lightning splitting the sky. The warm sweet scent of flowers filled the hallway, which was also remarkably quiet and absent of servants.
It was her wedding day.
Only the second day after arriving on the viscount’s door, she was poised to become Lady Phoebe Winthrop, Viscountess Huxley and the future Countess of Albury. In her flight from home, Sarah had smartly insisted on selecting Phoebe’s best gowns, especially the ones that had been ordered by the duchess to hide her condition. She wore a peach morning dress of French silk and a bronze ribbon threaded around her waist. Her hair had been caught up in a cascade of curls and pearls threaded through the strands.
Sarah’s