“I pondered you constantly. I used to dream that I could run away to the island, and you and Joanna would be there.”
Libby chuckled. “I fantasized about the very same scenario, but I put Captain Ralston in the middle of it. Do you remember him?”
“Of course! The day his ship dropped anchor in the bay? It remains the most thrilling and alarming moment of my life.”
“I would imagine he was my father and that he was hunting for me. He’d find me and carry me to the island so we could be there with you and Joanna.” Libby sighed. “Should we try to locate him? We could invite him to the wedding too.”
Caroline smiled, but sadly. “He’s passed on, Libby. Not long after he stumbled on us.”
Tears flooded Libby’s eyes. “Oh, no! I can’t stand that he’s not out there in the world somewhere. I’d convinced myself that he was fretting over me and regretting how he let the navy whisk me away from him.”
“I yearned for him to rescue me too. The years with my grandfather were especially gloomy, and I’d pray that he’d arrive to save me.”
“I wish your grandfather was still alive so I could punish him for how he treated you.”
“Should I have the same opinion about your Uncle Harry?”
“I had issues with Harry, but deep down, he was a terrific fellow. He pushed me to become who I am, and it was just what I needed. I couldn’t have been shackled to some dolt and forced to stagger around in a hovel with a dozen children.”
“No, you certainly wouldn’t have fit in a small existence like that.”
They laughed, then Libby said, “How did you learn about Captain Ralston’s death? I thought you’d never heard any news about any of us after you were returned to Grey’s Corner.”
“I met his two sons recently. They’re acquainted with my cousin, Gregory.”
“I recall Captain Ralston being incredibly dashing. Are they anything like him?”
“They’re exactly like him.”
“What are their names?”
“Caleb and Blake.”
“Caleb and Blake Ralston. . .” Libby mused. “Would they visit Barrett if I asked them to? I would love to speak to them about their father.”
Caroline blew out a heavy breath, realizing she shouldn’t have mentioned the wily pair. “Could I tell you a secret about them?”
“Yes,” Libby replied, “but from your dour expression, I’m guessing it won’t be a positive report. I hope they’re not cads or wastrels.”
“I wouldn’t describe them as wastrels, but they’re definitely cads.”
Caroline paused to consider her next comment. There would be such relief to admit her situation with the Ralston brothers, and Libby wouldn’t judge her for her moral lapse with Caleb. Lord Barrett might be able to help too, but she’d only just walked in his door, and she would hate to be a burden.
She was worried about so many problems: her uncle, the family’s mysterious trust fund, her fling with Caleb, Janet’s affair with Blake, Caleb’s gambling business and it being such a dubious source of income.
Lord Barrett was a sophisticated navy veteran, so he might have some idea of where to start in addressing all of it. And wasn’t confession good for the soul? It’s what the papists believed.
Caroline opened her mouth and began to spill all.
“Are you feeling better? Now that Caro has arrived, is your anxiety gone?”
“Completely gone.”
Libby smiled at Luke. They were in the dining room, having breakfast. She and Caro had chatted late into the night, then they’d dozed off on her bed, snuggled together like puppies—as they had on their deserted island.
She’d left Caro sleeping, and she’d come down to eat without her. She was brimming with stories, with excitement, with joy, and she was eager to share every detail of their lengthy conversation with Luke.
“I waited up for you,” he said, “but after the clock struck midnight, I went to bed.”
“We couldn’t stop talking!”
“I assumed that was the case.”
She was seated at the table, and he was dishing up her food, pouring her tea. He fussed over her incessantly, as if—should he glance away—she’d vanish.
Initially, his hovering had annoyed her, but gradually, she’d decided it was extremely pleasant. While she was very famous and people gushed over her, she’d never had anyone in her private life show much interest in her condition.
Her Uncle Harry hadn’t exactly been a warm and cuddly person. He’d raised her to be tough and strong, and whenever she’d protested any issue, he’d told her to buck up and stop whining. He’d always warned her that no one liked a complainer.
His stern attitude had taught her to swallow her grievances and present a contented mask to others, but internally, she’d seethed over many indignities. It was lovely to have Luke notice how she was faring, to have him ensure she was happy and comfortable. She could vent any frustration, and he never ordered her to be silent.
“How was her upbringing?” he asked. “Was it splendid or awful or somewhere in between? Were her relatives kind to her? Or were they horrid?”
“Oh, Luke, she was so miserable! She was sent to live with her grandfather, and he was a violent ogre. He used to lock her in her room, and he constantly railed that her father was burning in Hell, and eventually, she would too.”
“That’s terrible.”
“She spent years alone, being quiet and playing by herself. I’m amazed she grew up to be so sweet. She has an uncle. Samson Grey?”
Luke shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“He moved to their estate after her grandfather died, and he’s a bit of a fiend too. I can’t bear to have her male kin in charge of her. Not with how she’s been treated.”
“I’m glad she travelled to Barrett then. Much as I loathe Periwinkle, I suppose I’ll have to reward him in some fashion.”
Mr. Periwinkle had stayed the night with them, and he was likely still in the house, but she hadn’t seen him after she’d gone upstairs with Caro.
“Why didn’t you tell me you spoke to
