She would do well to tread lightly, but she wasn’t certain how to manage that. Every time she was with him, she grew more fond of him. How easily she could fall top-over-tail in love with him. If ever there were a time for Gillian to be practical, this was it. She could learn more of his situation and offer what encouragement she could, just as he had done for her in her plight. And that would have to be enough.
Scott had been at Houghton Manor for four days now. He’d not mentioned the financial strain of it since their first discussion, so she hoped that meant his prolonged stay wasn’t proving the burden he had feared it would be. He was all smiles and encouragement, regularly making Mrs. Brownlow laugh, which Gillian appreciated. He managed to makeherlaugh too, which was more rare a thing than he likely knew.
This particular afternoon, with Mrs. Brownlow napping and recovering still, Gillian had made her way to the gardens, like she usually did. Autumn was fast approaching, and the garden was changing. That was one of the things she loved most about nature: it was steadfast and constant in so many ways, yet it changed as the seasons required. It changed because change was essential to survival. She could relate to that. She had changed when her mother had died. She had changed when their finances had begun to wane. She had changed again when she’d come to live in Houghton Manor. She had changed when her father had been brought on as the butler.
Change was difficult but necessary. Life had taught herthatlesson almost more strongly than any other.
Turning the path in the garden and coming upon Scott bent over his traveling desk on a bench, Gillian felt very strong stirrings of having experienced this moment before. She’d found him thus in the magical garden at Brier Hill. In fact, she had found him writing letters quite often, not only when in gardens.
This time, however, he was too engrossed in what he was working on to realize she was approaching. He didn’t look up, didn’t pause, didn’t acknowledge her there. She stepped closer, and she could see that his was not an expression of peace. His brows were pulled downward in a steep angle of worry.
Amazed at how bold she had become of late, she sat on the bench beside him. “You do not appear to have received good news.”
He was startled a little but recovered quickly. “It’s not that. There’s not been time for any letter to be sent on to me here.” His eyes returned to the paper he was examining.
It was not a sheet of parchment, as she’d first guessed. He was bent over a small book, one in which line upon line of quickly jotted notes and numbers were scrawled. “Your estate ledger?”
He nodded without looking away from the work engrossing him. If anything, his expression actually grew heavier.
“I don’t think most people travel with theirs,” she said. “My father, however, took his with him nearly everywhere the last while I lived at home.”
“Either he has odd taste in literature or he was worried about his estate.” Though Scott had clearly been attempting a bit of light humor, the gravity in his expression left the comment more worrisome than entertaining.
“Are you worried about yours?” Gillian asked.
Scott released a heavy breath. “Always. It is the oddest game, moving things around to account for changes, hoping there are enough pieces to fill in the puzzle despite the fact that there weren’t enough even before things were taken away.”
He was attempting to address the unexpected. With a rush of guilt, Gillian realized at least one of those unexpected expenses was remaining away from home longer than he’d anticipated. Was that what he was currently juggling: how to move about what funds he had to cover the expense of staying?
“You said if Thimbleby proves to be derelict, you’ll have no choice but to run away.” She watched him, hoping he would laugh or at least smile. If he could find humor in his jesting threat, she could worry less that he was strained beyond enduring.
“Running away wouldn’t truly solve anything,” he said. “Creditors have a way of finding people. Debts catch up eventually. There is no distance so far that I could run there and actually leave any of this completely behind.”
He’d answered her question honestly and somberly. “You sound as if you’ve pondered this.”
He nodded. “I have pondered every possible solution and every possible consequence.”
She set her hand atop his. “Have you not found one that gives you hope?”
Scott turned his hand a little, enough to thread his fingers through hers, though he did so almost as if he were unaware of the movement. His gaze settled somewhere in the distance. She suspected he wasn’t actually seeing the garden around them. “The situation is impossible enough that I find myself wondering if my uncle did this intentionally to sabotage me. Every possible avenue of escape appears closed off to me. I’m not certain that could happen on accident.”
Where was laughing and lighthearted Scott now? He’d been so good at offering a respite from worries. He seemed to need that now.
But she was no expert at that. “Has your remaining here added to these difficulties? I was in earnest when I said you needn’t make the obligatory visitor’s offering to the staff.”
He looked at her for a moment but didn’t say anything. He didn’t truly need to. She could see the answer in his eyes and in the worry on his face. But he smiled a little, and he squeezed her hand. “All will be well, Gillian. You needn’t worry.”
She knew he was attempting to assuage whatever guilt she might feel, to ease the burden of concern on her mind. But who was helping to ease his?
“My father and I were destitute for far longer than I care to remember,” she said. “I understand about economizing, and I understand about unexpected financial distress. I’m also not a fragile, wilting flower. So you needn’t lie to me or think I’ll shatter if you tell me about difficult things.”
“I truly don’t want you to worry about this, Gillian. Mrs. Brownlow needed me here. And, I suspect, my being here has helped you as well.”
She lowered her gaze to their still-entwined fingers. “You have helped more than you likely know.”
“I consider that well worth an afternoon spent poring over this frustrating ledger.”
“I wish I could have made good on my offer to pay you for this inconvenience and the trouble it is causing.”