Page 70 of The Unforgiven
“Quinn, I’m so sorry,” Gabe pleaded. “I wasn’t thinking. It all happened so quickly. One minute the doctor said he was on the mend, and the next he was gone. We came to the hospital to find his bed empty. He was already at the mortuary, lying on a slab, like a piece of meat. They referred to him as ‘the body.’” Gabe nearly choked when he uttered the words. He hadn’t realized how profoundly the term had affected him. “We weren’t there when he passed. He was all alone.”
Gabe angrily wiped away the tears that snaked down his cheeks. He’d promised himself that he’d remain in control, but here he was, blubbering like an idiot.
“Oh, Gabe,” Quinn breathed, her own anger forgotten. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d been there for you. I can’t begin to imagine how devastated you must have been.”
“I was always closer to my mother,” Gabe confessed. “I kept my father at arm’s length. He was so old-fashioned and set in his ways. I didn’t think he could ever truly understand me or see my point of view, but now that he’s gone, I realize how unfair I was. It would destroy me if Emma felt that way about me. I wronged him, Quinn, and now it’s too late to make amends.”
“Gabe, your father loved you, and he knew that you loved him. He wasn’t an easy man to talk to, and yes, he was set in his ways, but he was raised during a different time, when people weren’t as open about their feelings and needs. He didn’t parent you the way you parent Emma, but then again, most people of his generation didn’t.”
Gabe used the back of his hand to rub at his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose he did. He never hugged me or kissed me when I was a child. He thought it inappropriate. Instead, he’d pat me on the head, or clap me on the shoulder and call me a ‘good lad.’ He was proud of me though. He told my mother.”
“Of course he was proud of you. You are the perfect son.”
“Hardly. I had a child out of wedlock with a woman I barely knew. In my father’s eyes, that was shameful,” Gabe said softly.
“Gabe, your father lit up like a Christmas tree whenever Emma walked into the room. He doted on her, and she made his final months so much more rewarding. She might not have come about in the way your father expected, but she was a gift, and he treated her as such.”
“He was worried about our baby being born a bastard,” Gabe confessed, cringing at the word.
“Was he really?” Quinn asked. She sounded incredulous. “We will get married eventually, but now it won’t be next month. We’ll have to wait until after the baby is born, maybe even until next year.”
“Quinn, he would have wanted us to marry. That was part of the reason my mother wanted to have the funeral as quickly as possible. She wants the wedding to go on as planned.”
“You can’t be serious,” Quinn replied. “You father died a few days ago, and your mother is in mourning. How can we possibly go on as if nothing has happened?”
“We can’t, but maybe we can just go to a registry office. We can have a party later, after the baby is born.”
Gabe heard Quinn’s sigh of resignation. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we will do.”
“Would you be all right with that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, sounding as if she’d just agreed to march to the guillotine.
“There’s something else, love,” Gabe said, bracing himself.
“Oh?”
Gabe sighed. There was no turning back now. “We might have to move to Berwick.”
“What? Why?”
“My mum can’t handle the house on her own, and she will go mad living there alone.”
“Do you think she might agree to sell the place and move to some nice, modern flat in the heart of Berwick?” Quinn asked carefully.
“Not a chance.” Gabe had suggested that exact same thing, but Phoebe was adamant about staying in her husband’s ancestral home. “The de Rosels settled on that bit of land right after the Norman invasion and have remained there since. My mother would see it as the ultimate act of betrayal to sell the lot and move to some flat. She says it’s my birthright, and she wants our son to be the next lord of the manor.”
“Right.” Quinn said. “But what about your job? And mine? What about our homes?”
“I can find another job. And we can keep my London flat, so you can stay there when you need to be in London. It’s too small for a family anyway. We’re bursting at the seams already, and once the baby comes…”
“Yes, I’ve thought of that,” she conceded. They would have to move sooner rather than later.
“There are ten bedrooms at the manor house. Just think of how many children we can have,” Gabe said, smiling at the possibility.
“Is that your invading ancestor speaking through you? You want to keep me barefoot and pregnant for the next decade?” Quinn joked.
“Hmm, the thought is strangely appealing,” he replied, making her laugh.
