Alaric Davenport glanced at her, then at Skylar Morrison on the bed. He frowned, his fists clenching slightly.
'Is she only worried about *him*?'
Just then, an elegant and stately middle-aged woman stood up. She bore a striking resemblance to Skylar Morrison.
'That must be Skylar's mother.'
"Hello, Aunt Morrison."
"You're the woman who got my Skylar hurt? You look a little familiar," Tanya Sinclair asked.
"Yes, Aunt Morrison. I'm so sorry. I know an apology won't be enough, but is there anything I can do to make it up to Mr. Morrison?"
Rosalind Lowell kept her head bowed, feeling tense and filled with self-blame. Seeing Skylar lying here because of her, a bitter feeling welled up inside her.
Skylar was a favored son of fortune, doted on and protected his entire life, yet he was injured because of her. Even if Aunt Morrison were furious enough to strike her, she felt it would be completely justified.
