She pulled herself up off the bed and opened the door. Guy stood before her, contrite, in his third change of clothes of the day.

“Can I come in?”

“Into my room? Hell no!”

“That’s fair. Somewhere quiet, then, just to talk.”

Nory sighed. “Come on, then,” she said, pulling the door closed behind her. “But if you try anything, I swear to god, I’ll take a set of nutcrackers to your gonads.”

As they came down the stairs, the bell for the front door rang. Jeremy shot down past them and skidded in front of the butler to get to the door. Katie stood in the porchway, wearing an oversized parka over baggy dungarees, tucked into a pair of green Dr. Martens boots. Her long box braids were pulled back into a thick ponytail, and she looked as tired as any pregnant woman Nory had ever seen. Husband and wife fell into each other’s arms. Jeremy was sobbing and laughing at the same time, Katie was too exhausted to do much other than lean gratefully into her husband and let him hold her up. Nory felt like she and Guy were trespassing on an intimate and much-longed-for reunion, but Katie waved up at them, smiling, and beckoned them down to say hello.

Jeremy stood behind Katie, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist, hands splayed out across her stomach. They made a striking couple, he with his typically Celtic coloring: pale, freckled skin and strawberry blonde hair, and she with her dark skin and jet-black braids. When the greetings were done, Jeremy escorted his wife up the stairs to their room. Nory didn’t expect to see either of them again today, but she hoped to get a chance to chat with Katie at some point, to hear about her adventure and her research.

The drawing room was empty. The others weren’t back from the spa yet, and Charles had taken the opportunity to catch up on some work.

“I’m sorry,” Guy began.

“I’m not interested in your sorrys, Guy; they don’t mean anything.”

“I felt trapped earlier in the library, like you were all ganging up on me. I reacted badly. I attack when I feel cornered. It’s not ideal, it’s just how I respond. But I am sorry, for all of it.”

“It’s not only me you need to apologize to. Your wife would be a good start. Isaac didn’t deserve your vitriol either. And Charles was only trying to help. It took a lot for him to open up like that, and you belittled him.”

“I know.”

“Can’t you see how amazing Camille is? Why do you not want to at least try and make things right?”

“That’s the problem. She is amazing. She’s too good for me.”