Chapter Twelve
September 16th, 1814
Cornwall
Alexander stared determinedly out the carriage window; it was either that or gaze at Georgiana with a foolish love-besotted smile on his face. He tried to concentrate on the sheer beauty of the day—the blue sky, the sunshine—but his head turned without his volition and he found himself looking at her again.
Damn it.
He wrenched his gaze from Georgiana and focused on the view out the window. He recognized this stretch of road. He’d walked it yesterday. Another minute and they’d be skirting the clifftops.
The carriage slowed to little more than walking pace. Alexander craned his head. There was the exact spot where he’d stood and watched the waves crashing eighty feet below.
He glanced at Dalrymple, and decided not to tell him how close the
