Gillian’s gaze was on the floor, her mouth pulled in a line of worry. She wrung her hands. “Could we tell Mrs. Brownlow, when she asks for him, that he’s riding horses or grouse shooting or something?”
“That might work once or twice,” the doctor said. “But unless she is truly not doing well, she will realize he is either not at Houghton Manor or he is avoiding her. Either way . . .”
“It would break her heart.” Gillian wrapped her arms around her middle. “She can’t endure that.”
He didn’t want to cause Mrs. Brownlow any harm or Gillian any distress. “If I could stay, I would. I promise.”
Gillian took hold of his arm and led him from the room and into the corridor. Her expression full of worry, she whispered, “I know your situation is not ideal, and I further know that I’ve already caused you unwanted delay. But I will inherit some money from Mrs. Brownlow. It is not a full fortune but is more than I absolutely require to live on. I am offering to you whatever I can part with, whatever you feel will most help you with Thimbleby and Sarvol House and whatever else is weighing on you. You could stay. You could stay without worrying over the finances of it.”
“That won’t work, Gillian,” he whispered back.
She held tighter to his arm. “Please, Scott. Please, do this for her.”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “With Mrs. Brownlow on the mend, which is what we both want, you don’t have an imminent inheritance to give away.”
Understanding dawned on her face. Followed by what looked worryingly like despair. “But if you leave, the blow might kill her after all. I’d give you every penny of my inheritance if only she—” She pressed her lips together, clearly holding back emotion. “I can’t bear to lose her, not when I’ve only just gotten her back.”
He wished there were a magical way to suddenly have funds enough to stop disappointing everyone.
A born failure.He couldn’t seem to avoid failing. He’d been helpful, comforting. For just a moment, he’d felt like a hero. And now he was on the verge of failure once more.
Gillian spoke again, her voice still quiet and fragile. “While it is customary for visitors to present the staff with money in acknowledgment of the additional work they are doing and to provide funds to offset the stabling of horses, you needn’t do so here. Mrs. Brownlow wouldn’t want you to. And if it will mean you can stay for even a little while longer, helping Mrs.Brownlow recover, the staff would consider themselves more than amply repaid, I am certain of it.”
He would feel blasted guilty about accepting that unexpected and reasonable offering, but doing sowouldhelp. “With that bit of generosity, I could likely stay for an additional two days, maybe three,” he said. “But I truly cannot ignore Thimbleby any longer. And returning to Sarvol House is the only thing that won’t further strain my already fragile finances.”
At Sarvol House, the horses had food already stored. He himself had a humble but not bare larder from which to feed himself. He could not entirely avoid the expenses needed to complete the remainder of his journey, but the quarter day was approaching. Staff wages were always paid at the quarter day. Once that obligation was met, there would be no funds left for travel, not without a painful amount of deprivation and a nearly impossible degree of creativity. He felt as if he were standing before a line of muskets, hoping that if he kept moving, they’d somehow miss him when they inevitably fired.
Her smile was a bit tremulous, but it was sincere. “Thank you, Scott.”
He was a momentary hero again. Until life caught up with him once more. Life and failures and disappointment.
Chapter Thirteen
Scott was staying. Mrs. Brownlowhad perked up when Gillian had told her that. She’d said several times how pleased she was. Dr. Lowry, in turn, had said how good it was for Mrs. Brownlow to have something to look forward to. Gillian was relieved, but she also felt horribly guilty.
When Daria had asked Scott what he’d meant to do if he discovered Thimbleby was in disrepair, Scott had jokingly said he would run away. Gillian had assumed he’d been entirely in jest, but now she wondered. His estate, he’d said only that day, could not bear the expense of his journey being prolonged. When she’d offered money in exchange for his remaining a bit longer, he’d told her that she hadn’t the money to give away, notthat he didn’t need it.
How dire was his situation? And how much worse had he made it by agreeing to remain at Houghton Manor?
You do notalwayshave to be practical.Mrs. Brownlow’s words all those years ago came flying back to Gillian’s mind with painful precision.
She had approached this crisis in the way that made the most sense, the approach that had seemed the most likely to succeed. She’d used that approach any number of times over the years, especially during their years of struggle and poverty. She had survived.
But this time, she’d hurt someone else in the doing of it. And that someone else had shown her such kindness, such compassion. He’d held her when she’d felt so alone.
Had she repaid that tender goodness by making his already difficult plight more desperate?
Mrs. Brownlow requested the two of them take their supper on a tray in her bedchamber that night so she could spend time with them. Gillian was relieved that the dear lady was recoveredenough to be thinking of supper, let alone visitors. But she was also nervous to see Scott again. They’d not crossed paths all day, something she suspected was purposeful on his part.
She’d been in Mrs. Brownlow’s sitting room for only the length of a breath, having just returned from changing for supper, when Scott stepped inside as well. He arrived with a look of mischief in his admittedly beautiful brown eyes. Mischief and not anger. Gillian could breathe a little easier.
“I’m not certain I trust that look in your eyes.” Her attempt at a lighthearted tone fell a little short of the mark.
“I wondered if I would find myself a source of suspicion again,” he said. “I’ve missed wary Gillian since first meeting her at Brier Hill.”
“I didn’t know you when we first met,” she said. “Wariness seemed safest.”
“Then why the suspicion now?”