Page 79 of My Highland Rogue
Every possible effort had been made to ensure her comfort—from the neck pillow she’d been given to the rounded brazier on the floor.
She truly couldn’t have been more cosseted.
Even little Mary was adding to the pleasant nature of the journey. The baby hadn’t fussed once, but that was probably because Lauren was holding her daughter. Jennifer hadn’t had many occasions to be around new mothers, but she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person for the role than Lauren.
What a pity that Harrison hadn’t fitted into his role of father.
For over a year, Jennifer had thought that Lauren was a sweet, biddable young thing, so in lovewith Harrison that she would forgive any of his sins. She’d also anticipated that the journey to Edinburgh would be spent with Lauren in tears, inconsolable at her father’s actions.
Instead, the woman in the carriage was steely eyed and seemingly unperturbed about the fact that her husband had already returned to London.
Mr. Campbell, however, was doing his utmost to comfort his daughter. More than once Jennifer saw him patting Lauren’s arm or hand. He’d only spoken about Harrison in passing, and that comment elicited a surprising response from Lauren.
“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Mr. Campbell said.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Papa. It isn’t your fault that my husband is devoid of character.”
Jennifer hadn’t said a word. In all honesty, there was nothing she could say to counter Lauren’s assessment of her husband. If he’d showed any interest whatsoever in his daughter or demonstrated a little kindness toward Lauren, it might be a different situation.
She was simply grateful that she had somewhere to go and someone to be with. Everything about her life had been turned on its head. Perhaps that’s why she needed Ellen. She wanted to be around someone familiar, someone who had known her since she was a child. Someone to whom she could say, “Do you remember...” and have that person match her memories. She had no doubt of Ellen’s affection for her, and maybe she needed that right now as well.
The journey to Edinburgh was interminable, giving her too much time to think. Her minddanced through the years. She was a child, racing through Adaire Hall, chasing Gordon in a forbidden game of tag. Or hiding from him, only to dart out and startle him, then burst into laughter at his expression.
Her childhood had been, for the most part, punctuated by laughter. There were times when she was sad, of course, when thinking of her father or even her mother’s injuries. Yet children never stayed somber for long. There was always too much to see, do, and learn.
She and Gordon explored the hills beyond Adaire Hall. They’d made their own path through the woods. They fished in the loch and chased the sheep in the glen, earning a lecture from both the shepherd and her mother.
They’d had a bond, a closeness ever since she was a child. She had known that she could always go to Gordon if Harrison was being cruel. If she’d seen something funny or read something she wanted to share, Gordon was the first person she thought of.
She would need to alter her thoughts, expunge her memories, learn to think of him as someone else. Not the man she loved. Nor even her brother. It would be easier to not think of him at all.
How did she do that?
For the first time in her life she’d walked away from all her responsibilities. Let the housekeeper and the majordomo write Harrison and ask about the numerous and never-ending daily issues. What kind of punishment would be apt for the third-floor maid who had absconded with another maid’s brooch? What were they to dowith a fourteen-year-old horse that had gone lame? The roof in one area desperately needed repair. Should they send to Inverness for the materials to do the work?
Let Harrison answer those questions. Let him—for once—assume some responsibility. Until such time, of course, as Gordon proved himself to be the true Earl of Burfield.
Thankfully, the other occupants of the coach did not seem inclined to talk. Mr. Campbell was making notations in a small notebook. His two secretaries had been sent back to Edinburgh the day after their arrival, but he seemed to have taken up the slack in note-taking. For a number of hours, Lauren had her eyes closed and either feigned sleep or dozed. Whenever baby Mary fussed, however, she took the infant from the nursemaid and calmed her with just a touch.
Seeing them made her heart ache. Unless Harrison drastically altered his character, Lauren was destined to be without a husband and Mary without a father.
Her eyes met Mr. Campbell’s once, and she knew that he had the same thought. She wanted to apologize for Harrison, but there was nothing she could say to make the situation better than it was. If she could have changed Harrison’s behavior, she would have done so years ago, before he began to waste so much money on his London pursuits.
Finally, she began to recognize landmarks that indicated they were nearing Edinburgh. Ellen’s home, which had been owned by Colin’s family since the seventeenth century, was located abouttwo miles from the center of the city. The lands on which it stood had been granted to the monks of Holyrood Abbey in the fifteenth century. The first time she’d visited Ellen and her new husband, Colin had given her a tour of the expansive property.
The original house, an L-shaped structure, dated from the late seventeenth century. However, because of extensive renovations and additions, none of the earlier house was visible on the exterior.
One of Colin’s ancestors had surrounded the house with an expansive brick wall complete with towers. To enter, visitors had to come in through an impressive iron gate that was kept closed most of the time and opened by a man whose only duty was to maintain security for the family.
Colin had added his own touches to the property, which included a conservatory in the rear of the house and modernizing the interior with bathrooms and a cistern on the roof. In addition, Colin had added a series of ponds throughout the grounds.
“I’ve never seen a man so entranced with fish,” Ellen told her on one visit. “We have a different variety of fish in each pond, and the silly man goes to check on each one of them every morning. He’s even named some of them.”
Although there had been exasperation in Ellen’s tone, her eyes told a different story. It was easy to see that she adored her husband and that Colin felt the same about her.
Evidently, Mr. Campbell was well-known tothe man at the gate, because they were waved through to the courtyard without any delay. As soon as they approached the wide steps, the double doors at the top opened, and Ellen emerged.
As they pulled up and stopped, Mr. Campbell looked at Jennifer.
