Page 81 of My Highland Rogue
“It’s not the first time a title has been in dispute,” Blackthorne said. “You’d be surprised how many there are about. Yours is simply one of many.”
“So, you think I have a claim?”
“Most assuredly you have a claim. However, that’s not the issue. It’s a Scottish title and therefore would be adjudicated in Scotland.”
“Which means?” Gordon asked.
“You need to go to Edinburgh to do it. I know a number of advocates in Scotland and would be pleased to provide you with some recommendations if you wish.”
Armed with a list of three Scottish solicitors,he left Blackthorne’s office and headed back to the Mayfair Club.
He didn’t look forward to telling Maggie that he was leaving for Scotland again, especially since he wasn’t going to divulge the reason why. She didn’t need to know everything about his life, although she’d dispute that.
There was every possibility that he wouldn’t succeed. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that justice prevailed in every situation. He didn’t have any corroborating proof. Margaret McBride was not going to say anything. There weren’t any other people at Adaire Hall who’d been there at the time of the fire. Or, if they had, no one had seen both infants.
All he had were the words of a man who wanted to clear his conscience.
He was going to leave in a few days. Time enough to take care of any lingering business matters and attempt to calm Maggie’s ruffled feathers.
Days passed. Days during which Jennifer tried not to think or feel. She woke in the morning and got through the day, then finally retired to her suite to sleep.
Ellen spoke to her, tried to engage her in conversation, but she had nothing to say. Nor did she care anything about fashion, flowers, politics, the weather, or Adaire Hall. She couldn’t even feign an interest in discussing Harrison, Lauren, or baby Mary.
What she truly wanted was to be left alone and allowed to sit in the grayness of the worldaround her. She didn’t want to hear laughter or conversation or even the wind. Everything felt like an intrusion.
She was inside somewhere, down deep, buried where no one else could find her. She knew, in an odd way, that she was protecting herself. That if she didn’t feel or didn’t think or didn’t remember anything that she might survive this.
Or she might not.
Even if she could turn back time and change Betty’s actions, it wouldn’t give Gordon back to her. She would be raised with him as his sister. She wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. He was forever gone. He was no longer hers. Whatever they felt for each other would be labeled wrong and a sin against God.
The most terrible part was that she knew that, but how did she convince her heart?
She couldn’t forget the look on Gordon’s face when he’d told her what Sean had said. He’d had a few days to absorb the words. Yet the stunned expression in his eyes revealed that he felt the same about the news as she did.
They’d been sweethearts. She loved him like a woman loves a man, not a brother. Would she have to do penance for that love or did ignorance mitigate her actions? She would not confess her sin to a minister for fear that he would pronounce some horrible verdict on her immortal soul.
How did she do this? The endless stream of days stretched out before her, none of them holding any significance or joy. Somehow, she was going to have to find meaning in something. How, though? How was she supposed to forgetGordon? Was there a tonic she could take to induce a loss of memory?
It was easier to sleep than to endure each day.
Ellen didn’t know what was wrong with Jennifer, but something obviously was. First of all, she’d never left Adaire Hall for an extended visit without some coaxing on Ellen’s part. Secondly, Jennifer was not the kind of woman who sat in a window seat and stared out at the world. No, she was the type of person other people watched.
Something had happened. Something drastic enough to have canceled the wedding and altered Jennifer’s demeanor. She accompanied Ellen shopping, but she wasn’t interested in purchasing anything. She didn’t seem involved in their conversations. She rarely smiled. She was sleeping late and retiring early.
The past week had been a guessing game, and so far, Ellen hadn’t come up with any answers. Harrison had returned to London, which wasn’t a surprise. However, his young wife had come back to Edinburgh, which was. Since she’d introduced Harrison to Lauren, she felt a sense of guilt that was difficult to banish.
Jennifer wasn’t ill, at least according to the answers she’d given Ellen. There was something weighing her down. That wasn’t difficult to figure out. However, her goddaughter wasn’t confiding in her.
The sad fact was that Ellen didn’t know how to handle this situation. She didn’t have anyone to go to for advice. This was Jennifer, after all, and she didn’t discuss Jennifer with anyone.
Something had to be done. Colin had often said that in the case of difficult situations, assume the mantle of confidence and barge on through.
The only problem was that she didn’t know what to say or do.
Although the wedding was off, Jennifer hadn’t said why. Nor had she spoken Gordon’s name once.
She had to admit that Gordon was a fascinating man. He reminded her of Colin, and it wasn’t difficult to see why. Colin, too, had come from humble beginnings, but he’d prospered in his life, accomplishing more than most men she knew. Gordon struck her as having the same kind of determination and drive.
