Page 20 of A Second Chance for Carys
Really, what nonsense this all was. She had better focus on tonight’s dinner. The ground was carpeted in soft dandelion leaves waiting for her, all the way from where she was standing to the oaks she could see spreading their branches in the distance. They, rather than James Mortimer, would benefit from her attention that afternoon.
Later, with her basket full, she decided to go to the herb garden to see if she could find something to add to the leaves she’d gathered. Encouraged by the generous sunshine, the first shoots were coming out. Perhaps some burnet, borage or chives would have dared venture above the soil. But in the end, Carys didn’t make it past the stone arch doorway. Matthewand Branwen were standing by the bench in the far corner and something about their attitude told her an interruption would not be welcome. Their fingers were entwined and they were gazing into one another’s eyes. There was such raw emotion on their faces that she could not help a smile. Was there anything better than to love and be loved in return?
If there was, she’d yet to find out what it might be.
Slowly, so as not to alert them to her presence, Carys retreated back into the lists. But before she could turn around and disappear, Matthew did something that froze her into place. He fell to his knees in front of Branwen and kissed her stomach. There was such reverence in the gesture that there was no need to hear what her daughter had just told him. She was with child at last. As if to confirm it, Branwen started crying. Even from a distance, it was clear that these were happy tears. And unless Carys was mistaken, Matthew was sobbing as well, holding his wife as tightly as if he wanted them to fuse as one.
In a way, they had, in the form of a babe they would soon get to hold in their arms.
Her first grandchild.
Carys found her own cheeks were wet with tears when she took a final step back to hide herself from view. A grandchild. How wonderful. She had started to suspect Branwen’s secret but had not dared to hope, or talk to her about it in case she was mistaken. Now she knew it wouldn’t be long before they had another discussion.
“Are you all right?”
The deep voice sent a shiver up her whole body. Hastily she wiped the tears from her cheeks before turning to look at James. He would know she’d been crying but there was no helping it. If he hadn’t suspected it already, he would not have asked the question.
“Yes, yes. I’m…I’ll be fine.”
“Is it my fault?” he asked, looking more anxious than she had ever seen him. His usually inscrutable face now appeared ridden with guilt. “Was I too forceful with you the other day? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me these last few days?”
Forceful? That wasn’t the word she would have used. Outrageous? Most definitely. Did she regret it? No. Did she want more?
A hundred times yes.
“No. You did nothing wrong and I was not crying because of any distress you might have caused me,” she assured him, realizing only now that by having avoided him, she had allowed him to worry about his treatment of her the day on the beach. It had not been her intention.
“What then? There is something.”
Her eyes burned anew with unshed tears. Yes, therewassomething. “Unless I am mistaken, I am soon to have a grandchild.”
James’ whole body seemed to relax now that she’d made clear he was not responsible for her bout of crying. Slowly, so as to reassure him further, she nudged him toward the arch doorway and nodded at Matthew and Branwen, who were still locked in a tender embrace.
“That’s wonderful news,” he said, sounding somewhat gruffer than usual.
Carys stilled. Was he fighting tears as well? A smile came to tease her lips. It certainly sounded as if the impassible man was moved at the idea of a woman being with child. Who would have thought it? Every day she discovered a little bit more about him. He could be passionate, whimsical, protective, emotional even, in his own way. And every day she liked him a bit more. Moved herself, she took her hand in his. Just like that, the awkwardness she had felt in the last few days was gone. She just wanted to share this incredible moment with him because she knew whythe news had affected him so much. Having lost his children, he would have thought never to know the joy of becoming a grandfather.
For different reasons, they had both been in the same situation. And now, they were both to know a joy they had thought out of their reach.
“You know, this baby is going to be my grandchild without actually being related to me by blood,” she murmured. He knew now she had not given birth to Branwen or Eirwen. “By the same token, it will be yours as well. Didn’t you tell me you and Matthew had more of a father-to-son relationship than anything else? That you helped raise him when he was adopted by the late Lord Sheridan as a young boy?”
He hesitated. “Aye, I did, when he had no one else to look up to. But we always knew I was not really his father. Richard is, and now they have been reunited.”
Though he didn’t say the rest, she understood all too well.
Now he doesn’t need me anymore.
Her heart melted. Raised by a man who had not been his real father, taking care of a boy who was not of his loins, he’d never felt secure in his place. Except as Joanne’s husband. But his wife was now dead, and he did not have anything to show for their years of love. His children were long gone, as was she, and he didn’t have anyone left.
It was a lonely life, even more lonely than hers, who at least had Branwen and Eirwen to love.
“It makes no difference whether Matthew has been reunited with Richard or not. You were the one who was there for him when he needed it the most. He will not forget it just because he is a grown man and about to have a child of his own. On the contrary, he will want you to be a part of his son or daughter’s life.” Certain of herself, she gave his hand a squeeze. “In anycase, I hear it was thanks to you that son and father were reunited. He will be grateful for that, if for nothing else.”
She had heard the whole story through Branwen during their travel to England.
A year ago, the carpenter had come to Sheridan Manor in search of Matthew’s mother, Rose. He’d just lost his wife and now that he was free, it had been his intention to marry the love of his life at last. Unfortunately, the poor maid had been long dead by then. Up until that day Matthew had believed his father to be an unscrupulous nobleman who had raped his mother and never bothered to find out if the encounter had resulted in a child.
Overwhelmed, unable to tell the devastated man the truth, Matthew had let Richard go without revealing he had fathered a son during his week of happiness with Rose some thirty years ago.
