Fortune had been on her side until Fate had intervened and dealt her an unexpected blow. After escaping Taylor and hiring a carriage, she had arrived at Sorrel House in record time. Her elation turned to dread, however, when she stepped outside the vehicle to a foreboding silence. The distillery had ceased operations. Not a soul was around. Inside, she learned the terrible truth. James was dead. That had been four days ago. Now, she forced her thoughts away from the nightmare of James’s death only to worry about Wil. What had become of him, and why hadn’t he attended James’s funeral? Had he not received her message, or had Donnegan got to him first? Dear Lord, she hoped not. She’d make an effort to find out— maybe even make the trip to Dublin and call on him at his town house. A tap on the door broke into her musings. She rolled from her back to her side, away from the intrusion—away from her sister-in-law, Margaret. The dark-haired woman seated herself on the bed next to Jalene.
