his chamber until the wedding was to take place. He’d grant Miranda’s wish by not being seen again, and he’d work on healing his heart in the process.
“Are you telling me that the two of you could not come to an agreement?” his grandmother demanded as he stepped into the sitting room.
Even though the Vails had earlier vacated the premises after their meeting, Lynwood, along with Miranda and her younger sisters, the Misses Cordelia and Adriana, were now visiting with Grandmother.
“Your grandson cannot accept that I have been threatened by a ghost named Barnaby and that I’ve regularly seen and had conversation with Uncle Jonathan since I was five. He thinks it’s all in my imagination.”
“Uncle Jonathan?” Lynwood asked in surprise.
“Yes, Uncle Jonathan,” Miranda snapped. “I tried to tell everyone when I was a child that he lived in the attic, but nobody believed me.”
“You were just a child,” he defended.
“And the reason I stopped mentioning my visits with him,” Miranda informed him. “However, Uncle Jonathan is still here. Further, I’m not the only one who can see and speak with him, but Her Grace does as well.”
Lynwood turned to Grandmother. It was bad enough that she carried on so, but he didn’t wish for everyone to know that her mind was slipping.
“Grandmother?” Wesley asked as he followed Miranda into the sitting room. “I’m certain Miranda is mistaken and that you only talk to Captain Vail as a comfort. You don’t really see him.”
“Oh, Wesley,” she sighed. “Jonathan has been a companion since your grandfather died. I never told you because I knew you would never believe me.”
He still didn’t.
“I’m sorry, Miranda. We should have believed you, but we honestly thought that because of the haunting of Castle Keyvnor you imagined a ghost living at Hollybrook Park,” Lynwood offered.
Wesley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then again, Lynwood had lived here his entire life and since there wasn’t a resident that didn’t believe in ghosts, he should have assumed the viscount would as well.
Had they all been conditioned since birth to simply accept these things as real, without questioning the absurdity of ghosts, witches, pixies and mermaids?
Could he really judge the residents of Bocka Morrow for believing in such nonsense since they were raised to believe that it was all true.
“Does this mean that the two of you cannot come to an agreement to marry?” his grandmother asked.
“I am sorry, Your Grace, but a match between me and Lord Epworth is impossible.” Miranda glared at him. “How can I be married to a man who thinks I lie or invent stories. If he cannot trust me when I say that I’ve encountered a ghost, how do I know that he will trust me in any other matter in the future?”
“Wesley,” Grandmother chastised. “I’m disappointed in you. Miss Miranda wouldn’t lie about something so important and I can assure you that she has seen and spoken with Jonathan. In fact, the three of us visited yesterday.”
He wanted to believe with all of his heart that his grandmother was simply orchestrating a large prank and in the end they’d all laugh about believing in ghosts, but knew that was not the case, and it pained him that she’d slipped so far from reality, and that Miranda had as well.
“Well, if not you two, then who?” Lynwood asked.
“Send for your other grandsons, Your Grace,” Miranda offered. “I’m certain that one of them will suit Cordelia or Adriana.”
To that, both of Miranda’s younger sisters gasped.
“You aren’t going to arrange a marriage for me to a gentleman I might not have ever met,” Miss Cordelia exclaimed in outrage.
“Me neither.” Miss Adriana stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well then, I suppose we must come up with another solution.” Grandmother stood. “I’ll think on it while I rest. This has been trying, but I’m certain we…or I will come up with a solution.”
Bloody hell, she was going to discuss it with her dead, non-existent first love.
Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache developed. Either they were all Bedlam bound, or perhaps only him. All Wesley knew was that if he was in this corner of Cornwall much longer, his sanity might leave.
Chapter 15
Miranda did her best to avoid Epworth for the rest of the evening, often disappearing to her attic chamber to cry. She wasn’t fit to be in the company of their guests, nor did she wish to pretend all was well.
“I’m disappointed in you, Miranda,” Uncle Jonathan announced