“Meaning, I not only would have to spin a few of those yarns myself but would also need to do so convincingly enough to overcome what she already knows of you.”
Overcome what she already knows of you. Gillian had always been at a disadvantage socially. She disliked the half-truths she’d told for years to protect herself and the people she cared about. It was a little hypocritical to ask that of Scott when he’d already done so much to help her.
“You needn’t sayyoutook an interest in me or even that anyone else did.” Her heart dropped as the truth of that approach struck her. None of the gentlemen had taken an interest in her; none ever did. “Could you tell her just that I wasn’t a failure? I don’t think that would be a complete lie.”
Not a lie, but would it be enough? She could not return to Houghton Manor without finding a way to help her beloved Mrs. Brownlow have peace before she passed. The guilt of that would weigh on Gillian for the rest of her life.
“I could certainly tell her that,” Scott said and even looked a little less panicked.
Gillian wasn’t an utter failure.That would hardly give Mrs. Brownlow eternal peace.
“You couldn’t tell her a little more than that?” She grabbed hold of his hand, holding it a bit desperately. “Just a little bit more. Give her reason to believe I—to think there’s hope for me—”
“I suppose I could mention how much everyone enjoyed having you at Brier Hill.”
It wouldn’t be enough; she knew it wouldn’t be.
“Please, Scott. She means the world to me. She was my family when I had none. Please. You don’t have to convince her I rivaled Artemis’s social skills or Lisette’s beauty or Daria’s endearing sweetness or Nia’s and Eve’s affability, only that I didn’t blend in with the walls.”
“You did not blend in with the walls,” he said. “With the gardens, perhaps, but only because you were there so often.”
She could smile the tiniest bit. “Will you help me, Scott? Please?”
He took a breath, then nodded. “I will do my best.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me yet. This might yet prove an absolute disaster.”
Chapter Eleven
Tell her I didn’t blendin with the walls.
Scott couldn’t make sense of that request. Gillian seemed to think she was entirely unnoteworthy. How could she possibly think that? She was intelligent, witty, protective of the vulnerable. She was good company and a good friend.
And no one, seeing the way that blue-gray gown she’d worn the day before had added sparkle to her already beautiful eyes, would ever believe she could “blend in” with any wall.
More than her absurd declaration that she was dull and forgettable, he couldn’t shake the memory of the pain he’d seen in her eyes as she’d asked if he could at least pretend she hadn’t been a complete failure. He hadn’t meant to make her think she’d been unwanted or disliked, but that was how she’d interpreted his hesitancy.
Some gallant knight he was proving to be.
He and Sarah had made every effort to comfort Uncle Sarvolin his final moments. If a few harmless exaggerations could bring peace to a goodhearted and kind lady as she lay dying, how could he refuse?
“Houghton Manor is the very next turnoff.” It was the first thing Gillian had said in nearly an hour, and the words emerged quiet and uncertain.
He’d dealt her a blow; he knew he had. “I am no one’s first choice for difficult undertakings, Gillian. I’ve failed at a lot of things. I—I just didn’t want this to be another.”
She didn’t look away from the carriage window. “You don’t have to tell her lies for me, Scott. I shouldn’t have asked you to. Mrs. Brownlow won’t exactly be surprised to hear I didn’t make a splash.”
You’ll sink it in only a few years, and no one will be surprised.
The carriage turned off the road and rumbled past a neatly maintained hedgerow. They would soon reach the house. Gillian paled, and tears began pooling in her eyes once more.
“I am certain we’ve arrived in time,” Scott said, praying they, in fact, had.
The carriage stopped. A moment later, the door was opened. Scott climbed out. He turned back and helped Gillian step down. Her whispered “thank you” was a bit shaky.
He slipped her hand through his arm. “Where to, Gillian?”