Page 45 of My Highland Rogue
“I have to confess my ignorance about labor and birth. However, didn’t you tell me that Lauren’s father hired Mrs. Farmer?”
She nodded.
“Surely he would have selected the best person available?”
She frowned at him. “You’re being entirely too logical.” Her frown melted into a smile. “The woman is annoying and I want to be annoyed at her.”
“You can still think she’s a gorgon. Just a skilled gorgon.”
They smiled at each other.
“Any moment now you’ll get to meet Mr. Campbell. I’m certain that the gorgon sent word to him that his grandchild was about to be born. I only hope that he arrives after Harrison does. Otherwise, there’s bound to be trouble.”
Perhaps it was time someone held Harrison to account. He’d always been treated as if he was better than anyone else. More privileged, more talented, more adept at everything, even though he wasn’t. It had begun back in the schoolroom they’d shared. Their tutor had a tendency to forgive Harrison’s behavior as high spirits. When the man started scoring Harrison’s tests with thesame willful disregard for the truth, Gordon realized that the tutor was afraid. Not of Harrison, but of the guardian. Bringing the young heir’s inadequacies to McBain’s attention might cause the tutor to be dismissed. Therefore, Harrison was allowed to get away with a great deal more than Gordon or Jennifer.
The safest way to handle any discussion of Harrison was simply not to say what he thought. His opinion hadn’t changed in the past five years. In fact, he’d grown even more disgusted with Harrison’s behavior, because he had it on good authority that the man wasn’t faithful. The vows he’d taken in a church were simply suggestions for other men. They didn’t apply to him.
Wait until Harrison learned that Gordon wasn’t so lax. He had every intention of demanding payment for the debt Harrison owed him.
Chapter Seventeen
During the second course Gordon told her about some of the people he employed in London. More than a few of them were fascinating individuals. Men who had come up in life through sheer grit and determination. Women who’d turned their backs on their individual pasts in order to believe in a better future.
His life wasn’t here, but by marrying him Jennifer would have to leave Adaire Hall. Was she prepared to do that? Would she trade the life she knew for one with him?
Now was not the time to ask her to be his wife. That was for later, perhaps. Or even tomorrow beside the loch. He had planned what he would say. The words wouldn’t be difficult. In fact, they’d be the easiest ones he’d ever speak.
“What the hell is this, Jennifer?”
They both looked toward the doorway. Harrison stood there.
The current Earl of Burfield was a big man, tall with broad shoulders, but he’d recently started going to fat because of his indolent life in London. He slept most of the day, spending his nights at either the gaming tables or in a private card game. When he wasn’t gambling, he wasdrinking or eating or involved with one of the women he brought to the Mayfair Club.
Harrison had tried to entice every one of Gordon’s female employees to his bed. They’d all refused him. Gordon had a rule that fraternizing with customers was grounds for being fired. That hadn’t delayed Harrison all that much. He’d simply gone outside the club to find his female companions.
His eyes were bloodshot, his face puffy. He looked twenty years older than his age. Even his blond strands were thinning and hinting at baldness in the not-too-distant future.
He was a perfect picture of a man who lived a dissolute lifestyle.
Gordon stood as Harrison entered the room followed by a woman he vaguely recognized. It took him a moment before he placed her. Mrs. Thornton, Jennifer’s godmother. They’d never been introduced, but he’d seen her before. He’d always disliked watching her arrive because it meant that she was going to take Jennifer away for weeks at a time.
“McDonnell. The gardener’s boy,” Harrison said.
“The same,” Gordon said, nodding to Mrs. Thornton.
Jennifer stood. “Where have you been?” She glanced at her godmother. “Are you responsible for bringing him home?” Before Mrs. Thornton could answer, Jennifer turned to her brother again. “Is that the only reason you’re here? I think you should care less about who my guest is and more about how your wife is faring.”
“She’s having the baby. That’s how she’s faring.”
“Go and see her. Now. We’ll talk later, but for now you need to see your wife.”
Harrison sent a fulminating glance toward him, then turned and left the room without another word.
The kitten had tamed the bear.
“I’m not entirely certain Mrs. Farmer will let him in, earl or no earl,” Jennifer said. She turned back to her godmother. “Ellen, I’d like you to meet Gordon McDonnell. Gordon, my godmother, Mrs. Thornton.”
Mrs. Thornton looked somewhat bemused. “Pleasure,” she murmured.
