Page 6 of His Perfect Bride
Yes, spinsterhood was the best course for her future. Besides, a lady’s maid’s life was not her own. Sage had learned that from the start of her employment. She was on duty from the moment she arose in the morning until after Augusta went to bed, with only sporadic breaks throughout the day.
Once her sisters and dad immigrated, she would stay busy with them too. And with Willow.
Another thrill tingled through her. She would get to see Willow soon.
“Then you believe he’s home?” Augusta stepped out of the livery, speaking with a young man who followed her outside, leading a team of horses and a conveyance.
“Oh aye.” The young man was more of a boy, probably not older than twelve, and was lean and going through a growth spurt so that his trousers were well above his ankles. “Everyone ’round here knows about Mr. Lennox’s bridge that collapsed.”
Augusta stopped short. “Bridge collapsed?”
The boy halted the team just outside the livery. “Back in the spring. A whole bunch of workers got killed when it happened.”
Augusta’s expression turned serious. “Is that so?”
“’Tis so. And he’s not been seen since.” The boy left them outside to go find a driver.
Augusta nodded absently and peered toward the distant mainland. Her usual no-nonsense expression was gone, and she seemed to be a thousand miles away.
Sage hesitated, not wanting to intrude but needing to show Augusta she cared. “I’m sorry the news about your brother isn’t so good.”
Augusta sighed. “If the news is true, then the tragedy couldn’t have been easy on him.”
“I imagine it must have been very difficult.”
“For him especially. He’s a sensitive soul.”
“Then all the more reason he’ll be glad of your visit. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.”
“Yes, of course. And your sister will be thrilled to see you.”
Augusta had already said that once they were settled, she would give Sage leave to search for Willow. Hopefully, in the small settlement with so few women, Willow would be easy to locate.
After so many months of being in the colony, would Willow now be married? Perhaps even expecting a child? Sage just hoped Willow hadn’t let her friendship with Caleb hold her back. As much as Sage liked Caleb and thought of him as an older brother, she had never approved of how reliant Willow had been on him.
“One thing is certain.” Sage opened her parasol and held it over Augusta to shield her from the morning sunshine. “Willow will not expect to see me here.” Not when Sage had been so happily planning to marry David. Willow had always joked that she’d been given Sage’s leftovers and that Sage had gotten everything good, had the perfect life.
At one time, maybe she would have agreed, back when she’d been arrogant and self-assured and overly confident in herself and her abilities and looks.
Time and God had a way of humbling a person. Now she knew she most certainly wasn’t perfect. She was far from it. And she owed Willow an apology for ever making her think she wasn’t as good.
Yes, an apology was long overdue. She just hoped she would be able to find Willow and give it to her soon.
Three
With a roar, Jackson Lennox shoved at the model of the bridge that spanned one end of the dining room table to the other. Hundreds of tiny pieces of wood along with cables toppled onto the glossy mahogany surface.
“Rubbish!” Helpless rage roiled inside him. “All rubbish!”
Crying out again, he swept the wreckage off the table, letting it topple to the floor with a crash. One of the anchorages stood at the far end, illuminated by the brightly lit chandelier. It seemed undeterred by his outburst, mocking him with its grace and poise.
It was rubbish too.
He trampled over the wooden pieces now scattered across the oak floor, not caring that he was snapping and crushing the specialized model wood beyond repair. It didn’t matter that he’d spent countless hours over the past week gluing and hammering everything together with meticulous precision. It didn’t matter that it was his best design yet. It didn’t matter that he’d almost figured out the problem—or so he believed.
No, none of it mattered. Not when his suspension bridge was still unsafe. Not when so many had suffered and died because of his failure. Not when more people would suffer and die if he didn’t get the design right this time.
He reached the remaining anchorage, swiped it up, and threw it against the wall.
