Page 31 of My Highland Rogue
Jennifer stood and walked to the sideboard. She took a plate from the stack, then replaced it,picked up a cup then put it back. He watched her, wondering if he’d said something to disturb her.
“Look what you’ve accomplished in only five years, Gordon. No one knowing you would be amazed. My mother certainly wouldn’t be. She’d say something like, ‘I always expected it of Gordon.’”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Of course not, but in comparison I’ve done absolutely nothing. You’ve built an empire while my life has remained the same. No, if anything it’s gotten smaller. I think my life has been incredibly dull compared to yours.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I did nothing,” she said. “Other than a few trips to Edinburgh I haven’t ventured far from Adaire Hall. I’ve been its chatelaine when there was no one else, and since Lauren has been indisposed. I have no grand adventures to recall. Nothing about which I’m proud. At the very least I should have something to be ashamed about.”
“How can you say that? You’ve kept the Hall running when Harrison was off playing in London for most of the year. I’d be willing to wager that you’re the single most important person at Adaire Hall.”
“How did you know about Harrison staying away so often?”
He wasn’t about to start lying to her now. “Harrison frequents the Mayfair Club. Not to mention that he has rooms there. He’s known to be voluble when he drinks.”
“Does he talk about Adaire Hall with you?”
He shook his head. “I only visit the club on Monday mornings. To go over the accounts. But I hear about him from my staff.”
There was another part of that he needed to tell her.
“I’ve been careful not to let Harrison know who owns the Mayfair, Jennifer. Nor has he figured it out.”
“My brother is foolish, but he isn’t stupid, Gordon.”
Harrison cared more about himself than anyone else. The man’s single-minded pursuit of pleasure blinded him to most truths.
“Let’s just say that Harrison doesn’t care who owns the Mayfair Club. All he cares about is whiskey, cards, and women, not necessarily in that order.”
She returned to the table and sat.
They spent the rest of the day together. For the first time in years Gordon had no obligations, no duties, no responsibilities other than assisting Jennifer. Since Sean was feeling better, he didn’t feel any guilt for leaving his father alone for a time. Besides, the longer they were together, the more they clashed. That hadn’t changed in five years.
Jennifer was rarely left alone. Everyone came to her for answers, from Robbie Stewart in the stable inquiring about the winter feed to a milkmaid who reported a problem with one of the cows. There was the secondary storeroom to unlock for Mrs. Thompson and the instructions to be given to the upper maids about removing some excess furniture and storing it in the attic.The main cistern had to be inspected because there was ceiling damage in one of the third-floor rooms and suspicion that the lead cistern had sprung a leak.
The only place she seemed to be without someone tugging on her had been at the loch. When he mentioned that to her, she got a curious look on her face.
“I think it’s probably because whenever anyone found me there, I was crying. So, I think the word went out not to bother me if I’d gone there.”
He didn’t ask the reason for her tears, because he was all too afraid he was the cause. How could he ever make those years up to her? Perhaps simply by refusing to leave her again.
In the afternoon she had to inspect the linens.
“We have so many guest rooms. Granted, they aren’t used much now, but they once were.”
“And you have to do this why?”
“Because it’s good stewardship. Just like moving the sheep from one glen to another. You don’t use the same set of sheets all the time, for fear of wearing them out. Some of them were purchased from France and were very expensive.”
“Do you have to do it? Why can’t Mrs. Thompson? Isn’t that her responsibility?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “But Mrs. Thompson can’t make decisions about what should be retired or what should be mended. In actuality, it isn’t my task at all, but Lauren’s. Nor is it something we do often, only once a year. But it’s scheduled for today, and if I don’t do it today, then that means I will have to wait until tomorrow, which means that I might not finishthe inspection of the larder. We could be low on foodstuffs of a certain type. That wouldn’t please Doris.”
He leaned up against the wall, folded his arms, and studied her. He’d never before considered that running a house, especially one the size of Adaire Hall, could be a full-time occupation.
“Do you have a chart?” he asked. “One that tells you what you need to do at a certain time?”
