“The two ghosts?” Asriel asked, his gaze falling to the book.
Caroline nodded. “Through time.”
“How inconvenient,” Georgiana said.
“Thoroughly. They only appear together one night a year.”
“And what do they do together?” Asriel asked. Georgiana turned surprised eyes on him, big as a house and silent as the grave – unless romantic novels were in discussion, apparently.
Caroline shook her head. “It’s unclear. But apparently it’s quite scandalous, so I assume it’s some kind of physical manifestation of their passion. Though considering they are ghosts… I’m not sure how it works.”
Asriel choked.
Georgiana raised a brow. “Caroline.”
Caroline grinned. “It’s just so easy to shock him.”
“You are what is referred to as ‘precocious.’” She handed the book to Asriel. “And so you must be reminded that I am older, wiser, and more powerful. Go to bed.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled. “What of my book?”
Georgiana bit back a smile. “You may have it in the morning. Asriel will take excellent care of it in the meantime.”
Caroline whispered to Asriel, “Chapter fifteen. We shall discuss it tomorrow.”
Asriel grunted in feigned disinterest, but did not protest his receipt of the book.
Georgiana pointed to Caroline’s bedchamber. “In.”
The girl turned at the order, and Georgiana followed behind, watching as she climbed into bed, then perching on the edge of the bed, smoothing the linen coverlet over Caroline’s shoulders. “You realize that when you are invited to Society events —”
Caroline groaned.
“When you are invited to Society events… you cannot discuss physical manifestations of anything.” She paused. “And it’s best to avoid discussion of drinking of blood from skulls.”
“It was wine.”
“Let’s settle on no skull drinking of any kind.”
Caroline signed. “Society events sound terribly boring.”
“They’re not, you know.”
Caroline turned surprise eyes on her mother. “They’re not?”
Georgiana shook her head. “They’re not. They’re really quite entertaining if you’re…” she hesitated. If you’re welcome to them didn’t seem to be the appropriate finish to the sentence. Particularly since Caroline was fairly ruined. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”
“Are you?” Caroline asked softly. “Interested in Society events?”
Georgiana hesitated. She had been. She’d adored the few country dances to which she’d been invited. She could still remember the dress she’d worn to that first ball – the way the skirts had weighed heavy and lush around her. The way she’d played demure, lowering her gaze and smiling carefully every time a boy asked her to dance.
Caroline deserved that memory. The dress. The dances. The attention. She deserved the breathlessness that came from a wild reel, the pride that came from a compliment on her coif. The increase in her heart rate when she met the beautiful blue gaze that proved to be her ruination.
Dread pooled in Georgiana’s stomach.
Caroline knew her past – knew she had no father. Knew that Georgiana was unmarried. And Georgiana assumed that Caroline knew the consequences of those things – that her reputation was blackened by association and had been since her birth. That she needed more than a mother and a motley collection of aristocrats with questionable reputations to save her. To garner Society’s approval.
And yet, Caroline had never once acknowledged those truths. She had never – even in the frustrated moments a girl had with her mother – said a word to indicate that she resented the circumstances of her birth. That she wished for another life.
But it did not mean she did not want it. And it did not mean Georgiana would not do everything she could to give it to her.
“Mother?” Caroline prompted, bringing Georgiana back to the present. “Are you interested in Society?”
“No,” she said, leaning down and kissing Caroline’s forehead. “Only in its secrets.”
There was a long moment as Caroline considered the words before she finally said, all conviction, “Neither am I.”
It was a lie. Georgiana had been a girl once, too, full of hope and ideas. She knew what Caroline dreamed of in quiet moments. In the dark of night. She knew, because she’d dreamed of the same things. Of marriage. Of a life filled with happiness and kindness and partnership.
Filled with love.
Love.
The thought of the word came on a wave of bitterness.
It was not that she did not believe in the emotion. She was not a fool, after all. She knew it was real. She’d felt it any number of times. She loved her partners. She loved her brother. She loved the women who had taken her in all those years ago, who had protected her even as she’d risked their safety – a duke’s sister, escaped and on the run. She loved Caroline more than she’d ever thought possible.
And there had been a time when she’d thought she’d loved another. When she’d believed that the remarkable way he made her feel had made her invincible. When she’d thought she could conquer the world with the way she felt.
That they could conquer the world together.
She’d trusted it, that feeling. Just as she’d trusted the boy who had made her feel that way.