Of all the gentlemen she might have recruited to this cause, Scott was proving the perfect choice. He’d not wanted to participate in a deception, which was a good reflection on his character, but he was also showing Mrs. Brownlow tremendous consideration, which spoke even more highly of him.
“If you two marry . . .”
Marry?Surely they hadn’t given Mrs. Brownlow that impression.
“You would control . . . all . . .” Another rasping breath.
“Allow me to share what I believe you are saying so you can conserve your strength.” Scott spoke softly and slowly. “Gillian will inherit a sum from you after your passing, and you are concerned because the law places, in nearly all instances, full control of such things in the hands of a lady’s husband.”
Mrs. Brownlow managed a small nod of her head.
“Set your mind at ease on multiple fronts, dear lady. I am not looking to take over anyone’s inheritance. Secondly, Gillian may very well be as stubborn as you say, but I have discovered she is also intelligent. I cannot imagine, when the time comes, that she will choose a potential husband who would wish for exclusive control over any inheritance she should receive. And I believe Mrs. Artemis Jonquil would lay waste to anyone who mistreated her dear friend.”
“Wouldyou?”
He nodded. “If need be.” Scott was telling more falsehoods than he’d likely planned on, but he had expertly made it clear that he was not Gillian’s fiancé or anything resembling that.
“And . . . in the matter of . . . her father?”
Her father.Oh dear. Gillian had not even shared this with the Huntresses, and Mrs. Brownlow was tiptoeing toward spilling it in Scott’s ears.
“He is . . .”
“Mrs. Br—”
“A painful . . . topic for Gillian.”
Gillian crossed closer to him, holding her breath. Mrs. Brownlow hadn’t yet revealed any closely guarded secrets. Would she yet?
“I know what it is for family situations to cause pain,” Scott said softly. “I’ll not add to Gillian’s.”
Mrs. Brownlow released a slow, deep breath. Her eyes closed. Gillian’s heart dropped to her very feet, even as her entire body froze.
“She’s squeezing my hand, Gillian,” Scott whispered, taking Gillian’s hand in his free one. “She hasn’t left you.”
She would soon enough.
After a moment, Scott slipped her hand into Mrs. Brownlow’s and gave Gillian his spot at the dear lady’s bedside. But he didn’t abandon her there. He sat in a chair nearby, looking as if he meant to stay for as long as he was needed.
Gillian wouldn’t be facing this alone.
And the look of peace on Mrs. Brownlow’s face gave Gillian peace as well. They’d eased the lady’s worries, and Scott had helped without causing himself grief. He had helped her and comforted her when even her own father wouldn’t.
Though her heart ached, and she knew it would for a long time, there was comfort as well. There was peace.
Chapter Twelve
Scott slept fitfully that night.It was more than the discomfort of sleeping on the too-short sofa in Mrs. Brownlow’s sitting room. Being near the sickroom-transitioned-into-a-place-of-final-farewell stirred up so many heavy memories. He’d kept the painful watch when his father had died. His heartbreak had pulled long and slow, every moment hoping Father hadn’t breathed his last but knowing he himself couldn’t endure the agony of anticipated loss much longer.
“Promise you’ll go back to England,” Father had said. “Go back and see my family home one more time. For me.”
That home, so beloved by and important to him that he’d used what little strength he’d had left to speak of it, was now Scott’s. And he was destroying it.
That failure, coupled with the lingering memory of Gillian’s tear-streaked face, had haunted him all night, preventing even the fleeting moments of sleep from being truly restful.
The door to Mrs. Brownlow’s bedchamber had been closed at some point. Whether that indicated the lady had passed on, Scott couldn’t be certain. The house was very quiet, very still. But that could just as easily be in deference to illness as to death.
Scott slipped from the sitting room, not meaning to be gone long but wishing to dress for the day. Whether she was continuing her bedside vigil or seeing to even more solemn duties, Gillian had a long and difficult day ahead of her. Scott would dress quickly and return to do what he could in the little time he had left before finances forced him to continue on with his journey.