Page 91 of My Highland Rogue
Jennifer bent and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before she straightened, Ellen pressed her hand against Jennifer’s cheek, smoothing away the tears. “Oh, my dear girl, I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are, Ellen. I wish it made a difference.”
Jennifer closed the sitting room door behind her, leaving Ellen alone.
She turned her head and stared into the bedroom, at the large bed that she and Colin had shared. An enormous creation, it sat on the dais, dominating the room. Colin had been a big man and had wanted his comfort. The bed had been specially made for him, to his specifications. Each time she climbed the steps, she thought of him.
She missed him desperately right now. He possessed a core of common sense. In some ways he was like a child, feeling excitement and enthusiasm for travel, new discoveries, and inventions. In others, he was an old soul, wise beyond his years.
What would he say to her dilemma?
He’d always wanted to know her thoughts and had valued her opinion. They had laughed together, and at night they had loved each other. She respected him more than anyone she had ever known, but she’d never told him the truth.
Only four people knew the entirety of it, and two of them had died. She didn’t know what had ever happened to the midwife. She wasn’t even sure she could remember the woman’s name.
She’d promised Mary that she would never tell the story. It had been a vow that she had been willing to give at the time. How was she to know that a woman named Betty would cause that vow to be upended?
Oh dear God, what did she do?
Jennifer was in pain, and it was a pain that only she could ease. The question was, did she have the courage to do so.
How could she not?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ellen managed to get through the night with the help of some brandy from the cut glass decanter on the sideboard in her sitting room. Colin occasionally liked to have a drink after they’d retired, and she’d kept up with the practice.
No doubt the brandy would shock Jennifer. The truth was that she had a great many bad habits. After all, she was a mature woman who’d had an eventful life. What was she supposed to be, pure, virginal, and perfect? No, she was definitely not an angel. Even though her parents had sincerely wanted a saint for a daughter, they hadn’t gotten one.
She even had some regrets, but not many since learning that regrets were a waste of time. Every single person who’d made it to her age had moments in which they were blithering idiots. She was not exempt.
Life had visited sorrow on her, too, just like it did everyone. It had occurred to her, more than once, that sorrow was perhaps a payment for the joy you experienced in life. If that was the case, then she would reluctantly accept the sorrow, because she’d also experienced great joy.
This time it wasn’t Jennifer who retreated toher rooms. She stayed in her suite, even banishing Abigail. Ellen wasn’t in the mood for complaints or general grousing.
It wasn’t that she had a decision to make. She’d already made it. That was the easy part. Yet speaking the words would change everything, and that’s why she needed to muster her courage. She understood Jennifer’s silence now more than ever, yet at the same time she thanked God that Jennifer had found the strength to tell Gordon’s story.
Finally, she was ready. She’d sent the dinner tray back uneaten and poured herself a brandy in preparation for this meeting.
When Jennifer entered the room, Ellen smiled, then indicated the end of the sofa.
“You wanted to talk to me, Ellen? If it’s about not returning to Adaire Hall, I can’t be talked out of my decision.”
“Nor would I try to do so, my dear girl. We need to discuss something much more serious.”
Jennifer looked at her inquisitively, but didn’t speak as she sat.
Ellen raised the brandy snifter. “Can I interest you in one of these?”
Jennifer shook her head. Ellen wondered if she would change her mind after a while. A little brandy did wonders in difficult situations.
Once Jennifer was settled, Ellen sat back and said another prayer. She’d been praying most of the day.
“Mary Adaire was one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known,” she began.
Jennifer nodded.
