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him.
    “ If we can get her back to Havistock, we’ll tell Eliza what’s
happened, then I’ll make arrangements to get her to Willowbrook for
the funeral,” Peter said, daring anyone to argue.
    After
several moments of careful silence, Dominic decided that Peter
couldn’t really hate him any more than he already did and, after
meeting the watchful gazes of Edward and Sebastian, regretfully
shook his head.
    “ We can’t do that. Don’t you think Eliza has been through
enough? Scraggan is still out there somewhere,” Dominic inwardly
cringed when Peter swung around in his saddle to glare at him.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, he continued, “I think that we owe
it to her to make certain Jemima is laid to rest in peace and
quiet.”
    “ She is being buried at Willowbrook,” Peter argued, his hard
eyes meeting Dominic’s in stark warning.
    “ It’s really for Eliza to decide; she is her sister, after
all. I think Eliza may want to bury Jemima next to her mother and
father in Padstow, but Scraggan definitely wouldn’t allow a funeral
to take place in his patch.”
    “ Look, Dominic, it really isn’t anything to do with you. It’s
not your decision to make. You didn’t know her,” Peter glared at
him, refusing to back down.
    “ I’m just being practical,” Dominic argued, ignoring Edward’s
look of warning. “It is my fault.” He turned uncompromising eyes on
Peter and waited until their eyes met before continuing. “If I had
remained in Norfolk all those months ago, this would never have
happened, but instead I insisted on getting back to Isobel. It’s my
fault that Jemima has paid for my mistake with her life and, just
like you, I have every intention of making amends.”
    “ It’s too late now!” Peter snorted, glaring at his friend.
“What do you expect to do?” he shouted, pointing a shaking finger
toward the back of the cart. “She’s dead! It’s too late! We were
too late! Now, it is nothing to do with you,” he growled, shooting
each of them a hard glare. “I love her, and I know Eliza will agree
that if Jemima cannot be buried in Padstow, then she should be
buried far away from Scraggan. She can rest at
Willowbrook.”
    “ Look, you two,” Edward interjected, scowling across the width
of the cart toward his brother and Peter. “I think Eliza is the one
who has to make the decision. I can understand your argument Peter,
but arguing over her body now really isn’t respectful. Leave this
discussion until later.”
    Swamped
by roiling emotions he didn’t know how to handle, Peter lapsed into
sullen silence and slowed his horse enough to settle into a steady
walk behind the cart. It gave Peter the distance from the others
that he desperately needed at that moment. He hadn’t intended to be
disrespectful by arguing over Jemima, but felt a fierce
protectiveness toward her especially after failing her so
catastrophically. Ensuring she could rest in peace was something he
could achieve, and he had every intention of not letting her down
again.
    Little
else was said on the long ride back. Peter was disinclined to
converse with anyone, preferring instead to remain at the back of
the procession, his gaze locked on the lifeless body of the woman
he loved.
    The
atmosphere between the men had grown increasingly tense throughout
the journey. None of them had lost sight of the fact that they
still had to inform Eliza of her sister’s fate. Edward’s face was
filled with dread as they turned into the long driveway of
Havistock Hall. Peter couldn’t stand the thought of facing anyone
else’s heartbreak, and had to dig deep to enter the house beside
Dominic and watch Edward break the news. Briefly his eyes met and
held Eliza’s as she desperately sought confirmation that Edward was
telling her the truth. Peter couldn’t speak. His throat was locked
tight. Unable to bear the desolation on her face as the stark
realisation of her loss sank in, Peter averted his gaze, his jaw
clenching tightly