Page 10 of My Highland Rogue
They’d played in the house on inclement days. As children they’d chased each other—as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her mother. They’d giggled behind their hands and hid in closets. One eventful day Gordon had embraced her, pulled her close and kissed her cheek.
She’d thought about that kiss for days. The next time they were alone in a dark place, she’d stood on tiptoe, put her hands on Gordon’s shoulders, and her mouth on his.
His indrawn breath had startled them both, enough that she’d jumped back.
He might not have forgotten the Hall, but it was obvious that he’d forgotten her.
“Yes, of course,” she said now, hearing the words leave her mouth. She hadn’t the slightest idea how she’d formed them or how the thought had made it from her mind to her lips.
She took a step back, away.
Gordon thanked the people in the foyer, including Mrs. Thompson, nodded to the majordomo, who assured him his valises would be moved to the Blue Suite, then turned and walked back out the front door.
Jennifer watched as he descended the steps, then turned to his left, heading for the head gardener’s cottage.
Since Mrs. Thompson had disappeared, Jennifer guessed that the housekeeper was, even now, inspecting the rooms Gordon would occupy.
Jennifer turned on her heel and left the foyer.
Gordon hadn’t written to tell her he was coming. She should have expected his arrival, of course, especially after her letter telling him about Sean. Perhaps it would be wise to remember that he’d never written her for five years. Five years of silence from him when a simple word would have eased her broken heart.
Now he was home again, but it didn’t look as if anything had changed. He still wasn’t speaking to her.
Chapter Three
Jennifer headed for her suite. Several years ago she’d moved out of the family wing and into one of the older parts of Adaire Hall. In addition to several modifications to her chamber, she had the estate’s carpenters create a doorway to the room next door, expanding it into a sitting area.
Harrison hadn’t seemed to mind. He was so rarely home that she wasn’t even sure he knew what she’d done. He was never involved in the upkeep or the day-to-day maintenance of the house, the grounds, the lands, or even the management of the crofters.
All Adaire Hall was good for was a place to come when he needed to escape some drama in London. She suspected that he had borrowed money against the estate, but she’d never gotten him to admit it. Twice in the last five years they’d had visitors from both Edinburgh and London. The men had all been bankers and they’d inspected the property with the diligence one would expect from an owner. Whenever she’d questioned Harrison about the financial stability of Adaire Hall, he’d responded with anger.
No one raged quite as well as Harrison.
Her brother wore a great many facades, depending on the person and the circumstances. Sometimes, she wondered who he was truly. Did he show his real face to anyone?
Harrison played at being earl, shunning any responsibility in favor of amusements in Edinburgh and London. He spent only a few days each quarter at home, and that only because of their mother. After she died, he hadn’t even pretended to be responsible.
The fact that his wife was due to give birth shortly to his first child hadn’t made Harrison return, but Gordon’s sudden appearance might accomplish that miracle.
The two men didn’t get along.
Even as a child Gordon had been filled with plans. He’d wanted to be more than the gardener’s boy. He’d been tall for his age, with a yearning in his eyes, but he’d always had time for her. He’d been kind, too, always looking out for her when Harrison was cruel.
Ever since the nursery fire, her mother had been reluctant to see anyone other than her husband, children, and Ellen, her closest friend. After Jennifer’s father’s death, Gordon had been the only other person to penetrate Mary’s isolation. Sean tried to stop Gordon from approaching her, but more often than not Mary Adaire was the one who sought out the gardener’s boy.
When Gordon appeared in the schoolroom one day and told the tutor that he was to learn along with them, Jennifer knew it was her mother’s idea. While Jennifer had been ecstatic, Harrison had had a tantrum and marched out of the room, only to be forcibly returned by his guardian.
The three of them had spent years in the schoolroom on the second floor of the east wing, a room not far away from where she lived now.
It had always been her and Gordon against Harrison in any match of wits. More than once Harrison had instigated a fight, but whenever Gordon fought back, Sean was there to yell at his son. The gardener never forgot that Harrison was the earl.
Gordon had been her constant companion, her friend, and her confidant until they’d begun to feel more for each other. Then, one day, he was gone. As if he’d never existed.
Now Gordon was back, but the young man she’d known didn’t seem like the same one who’d entered Adaire Hall a few minutes ago. He didn’t have a ready smile. Nor was there warmth in his beautiful blue eyes.
Had he changed? Had she been in love with someone who no longer existed?
Ellen Thornton sent her maid a censorious look, which had no effect on Abigail’s whining.
