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Mr. Ross shook his head.
William felt desperation climb up his throat. His hand had developed a curious shake, and he could feel his scalp perspiring. “Mr. Ross.Graeme.” He stretched out his hand, as if to put it on the man’s shoulder, but Mr. Ross was too far away. “I understand. Your pride has taken a beating. You’ve heard things, aye? They’re no’ true, on my honor, but the rumors have put a dagger in your heart. You’ve had a love that made you ache, and when that love disappeared, it put fire in your veins. How can a man live with that fire? But I’m here to help you. I’m here to give you the chance to make things right. You can still be with the woman you love. You can still hold your child in your arms. A ginger-haired lad.”
Mr. Ross lifted his gaze to William.
“But if you donna come with me now,rightnow, she will be lost to you forever. Can you bear that? Can you get up tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that knowing you did no’ do everything in your power to have her?”
Mr. Ross didn’t move. He just glared at William in silence.
William dropped his hand, resigned. “Well, then. I suppose that’s that, aye?” It was clear that Graeme Ross would never believe him. Susan should have come. But he’d come, the man Mr. Ross believed had ruined his love and his woman, and he’d just made a bad situation worse.
He felt his life float far away from him, and felt almost serene in his despair.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THETELEGRAPHFROMQueen Agnes was delivered by a contingent of six Weslorian soldiers. “What does it say?” Amelia asked, her voice high-pitched with her nerves.
Justine read the telegraph again as she stroked Dodi on her lap. “We are commanded home. We are to sail as early as Friday.”
“Oh!” Lady Bardaline clapped her hands. “This is wonderful news. I think it for the best, Your Royal Highness. Queen Victoria will be on her way to France, and Lady Aleksander is...well, she is perhaps not as well connected as your parents had hoped. But you mustn’t fret.” She smiled slyly.
She mustn’tfret? Justine stared at her lady-in-waiting in disbelief. “Go,” she said simply.
Lady Bardaline gave a nervous little laugh.
“Leave my sitting room, madam.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. She stared at Justine, then at Lady Bardaline.
Lady Bardaline rose slowly from her seat. She looked as if she was struggling with the urge to speak as she walked to the door. She even turned back, but instead of speaking, she gave both sisters a dour look before she went out.
Seviana quietly went to the door and locked it.
“Thank you, Sevie,” Justine said. She held out Dodi. “Will you take her out for a walk?”
Amelia looked at Justine with wonder. She waited until Seviana had taken Dodi and quit the room before she squealed. “Atlast! You were wonderful, darling! I can hardly abide the woman. But never mind her. What are we going to do, Jussie? We won’t board the ship. We’ll ask Lady Holland to help us.”
Justine shook her head. “Did you see the small cavalry Mama sent? They are here to make sure we board the ship, darling.”
“But I don’t want to leave. Ilikeit here. And what about Douglas?”
Yes, what about William? Every day Justine waited for word. Every day she held Dodi and paced in front of the window to see if they’d come. It had been four full days. She went over it and over it—a full day of train travel to Scotland, another one back to London. One day to confront Mr. Simpson. One day to...
Well, she couldn’t imagine it, and now she had only two days left before someone would force her to depart. If he didn’t come back in two days, her life was over as far as she was concerned. She would be a queen without a heart. A heartless queen. A heartless, mourning queen.
William didn’t come back that day, no matter how often she looked out the window and willed him to. Justine was furious with her lack of foresight—she didn’t even know where to send a letter to him.
The next day Justine and Amelia were forcing themselves to pack when a footman came to tell them that Justine had a caller. “Lord Iddesleigh, ma’am.”
Justine and Amelia looked at each other, thinking the same thing—he had news. They raced downstairs, and he turned to the door when they burst into the receiving room. He was smiling...but his expression turned a little panicky when they both rushed forward, eager for his news.
“Lord Iddesleigh, so good of you to come,” Justine said breathlessly. “Any news?”
“Your Royal Highnesses,” he said, bowing. “Alas, no. I had rather hoped you might be able to share some?”
Justine’s body sagged along with her hope. Her body felt so heavy suddenly. “No. Not a word.”
“Ah.”
