CHAPTER EIGHTDark clouds hung over Glentorran Castle the next morning.
In the murky distance over the mountains, thunder rumbled and an occasional flash of lightning split the sky.
The air was heavy with anticipation of the rain that must surely come before the day was out.
Viola sat at her casement window, gazing out over the neglected Castle grounds.
But she did not see the weeds, overgrown bushes and clumps of thistles and brambles.
No – all she could see was the look of betrayal that had crossed the Duke’s face before his training and years of authority had taken over and a shield of blank politeness covered his features.
He had spoken politely to Lewis Wilder, enquiring after his journey, making sure that he was comfortable at the inn in the village.
Then he had bid them both g
