Page 28 of My Highland Rogue
Jennifer.
She was beautiful, the promise of the girl maturing to fruition. Her eyes were a clear green with the capacity to see through to his soul. Her hair, thick and curly dark brown, had featured prominently in his daydreams. How many times had he imagined it on his pillow?
When she smiled, revealing white, even teeth, a dimple formed on the left side of her mouth. Her nose, chin, even the shape of her face was perfect.
He kissed her again, unable to stop himself. When she moaned, he pressed his palms against her face, tilted his head, and deepened the kiss. Kissing Jennifer was the only thing that mattered in the entire world at this moment.
“I love you,” he softly said. “Never doubt that, Jennifer. I’ve always loved you.”
“Oh, Gordon.” That’s all she had a chance to say before he kissed her again.
“We should go,” he said reluctantly sometime later.
“Must we?”
He’d pulled her onto his lap and that’s where she was now, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
He didn’t want her to move. Nor did he want to stand and walk back to the Hall. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted.
However, it was past dawn. The Hall was waking up. No doubt most of the servants were awake.
When he said as much, she answered with a sigh, “I have been exceedingly proper for fiveyears, Gordon. I now want to be exceedingly improper.”
Gordon stood, bent, and kissed her, then held Jennifer in his arms. “I don’t want to leave, either, but I have to go see Sean.”
“And I have a list of tasks to be accomplished,” she said, wrapping one arm around his waist.
He bent to kiss her again, then resolutely headed back. At the fork in the path they separated, him for the gardener’s cottage, and Jennifer for the Hall, just like they’d done for years.
Chapter Eleven
Gordon would go and do his duty to his father, however much Sean wouldn’t appreciate it. He might even take his carriage into the village and visit the church. He’d take some of the late blooming flowers and place them on Betty’s grave. He could say a few words of regret. Not that he hadn’t been the son she wanted, but that she hadn’t seen anything good about her life.
The day was a cold one with a wind blowing through the strath and into his bones. When he was a child, autumn was his favorite season. Now it was spring. Autumn seemed to him to be a slow dying of the earth, the withering of leaves, the chill in the air until breathing was nearly unbearable, and the crunch of ice on the grass in the mornings. Spring was rebirth, the reemergence of life in the form of the foxes from the burrows and the plants from the soil. Spring was a promise that however much it seemed the earth had died in winter, it came back again and would continue to do so for eons.
A mist flirted with the ground, climbed to his knees, then subsided as he walked. In time the morning sun would burn off the mist, andmaybe they’d see a blue sky. Either that or the gloom of the dawn would continue.
On days like today he always occupied himself with as many tasks as he could. That was always the best way to prevent the weather from having an impact on his mood. Today, however, there were no tasks he could set himself, other than sitting vigil at Sean’s bedside.
When he opened the door, Sally was already bustling around the cottage. A teapot was sitting in the middle of the square table beneath the window. She smiled brightly at him when she said good morning, then pointed to the teapot.
“Have yourself a cuppa,” she said. “Sean’s already had his first and is tucking into his breakfast.”
“How is he feeling this morning?”
Her smile was brighter than the shy sun.
“I think your being here has made a world of difference, Gordon. He’s better than I’ve seen him in weeks. In fact, he wants to get out of his bed again and come sit in the front room.”
Instead of making himself a cup of tea, he entered Sean’s room, standing at the doorway. Sean was propped up in bed with two pillows behind his back. In front of him was a tray of plates filled with food. Sally was right, Sean had a great deal of interest in his breakfast and it took a few moments for him to look up.
“I hear you’re feeling better today. That’s great news.”
“Aye, that I am.”
“And the pain?”
“Better, but not gone.”
