Please forgive the haste with which I am writing this, but I wish to send word as soon as possible, as I cannot bear to keep this good news to myself.
Mrs. Brownlow has recovered enough from her recent illness that Dr. Lowry feels confident she is strong enough to undertake a journey.
Scott held his breath.
She has proposed that we accept the dowager’s invitation to visit and that we do so sooner rather than later, as the roads are more passable now than they will be as the year wanes. The doctor has insisted that, in addition to Mrs. Brownlow’s abigail, we bring a manservant to be on hand should she need more assistance than she is expecting, but I worry about the burden that might place on the dowager, not knowing how generous her widow’s portion might be. Mrs. Brownlow would hear none of my objections, insisting she would see to it we were not a burden on anyone. While I still worry, I am also relieved.
I will see you again in a matter of days. Days, Scott!
Scott’s heart flipped about in his chest. His Gillian was making the journey to Nottinghamshire. Mater’s generosity was allowing for it. He suspected all the Jonquils meant to help. For two years, he’d bemoaned not having family, yet he’d been surrounded by precisely that all along.
I have missed you, but being apart means I have discovered for myself just how faithful a correspondent you are. With full confidence, I will declare that even Toss does not receive letters from you as frequently as I do. I should write to him and tell him so. And I should be entirely obnoxious about it.
Scott laughed aloud. Oh, how he adored her.
By the time you receive this letter, I will likely have already departed County Durham and will have set my sights on Nottinghamshire, where my heart already is. I will see you soon.
Until then, I am
Yours, etc.,
Gillian
Fate was, at last, being kind. He told himself that would continue, that he and Gillian would manage the coming years of waiting and hoping and, in the end, would be as happy together as two people could be.
Too many years of drowning in a sea of his uncle’s belittlement made it difficult not to expect the worst even when desperately hoping for the best.
But he would try. He would choose to believe.
Gillian read Scott’s most recent letter for what must have been the tenth time. Her last letter to him would have crossed paths with this one somewhere in the heart of England, as his had arrived when she was about to depart for Nottinghamshire.
My darling Gillian,
Work continues on Sarvol House. The Jonquils have been generous, and for that, I am grateful. I do find myself wishing I had confided in the dowager sooner. There is nothing that cannot be accomplished once she has set her mind to it.
With all your visitors gone, Houghton Manor must be quiet. I hope you’ve had ample time to stroll the grounds. Sarvol House once had glorious grounds. I remember exploring them as a young boy. Someday they will be resplendent again.
Your letters have not mentioned your father. I worry what that might mean for you and the heartache you carry. How anyone with the opportunity to have you in his life day in and day out could choose anything other than to count himself unspeakably fortunate and vow to make the very most of every moment you have together, I cannot imagine. Someday I will be so fortunate. I am planning on it.
Think of me, my darling, just as I will be thinking of you.
You are in my heart, and I am
Yours, etc.,
Scott
You are in my heart.He was in hers as well. She was beside herself with happiness to be so close to seeing him again.
But her mind was heavy. She hadn’t told Scott of her conversation with her father or the silence that had stretched on between them ever since. There was a chance her letter might be seen by someone else, no matter that she knew Scott would be careful not to let that happen. She couldn’t risk it.
The choices she had while this secret was known to so few were heartrending. Should the secret be revealed, she’d lose even those possibilities.
Life had dictated that she had to either give up a future with Scott or live her life without her father. There was no third option that allowed her to look to her future without her heart breaking.
Mrs. Brownlow had decided that the manservant she would bring would be Mr. Walker. Gillian had been granted no say in this; she didn’t know what her answer would have been if she had been permitted to cast a vote. On the one hand, she’d be granted his company, and he would be able to come to know Scott better—the very reason Mrs. Brownlow had chosen him to accompany them—and that was not a bad thing. But he would have to be Mr. Walker throughout the visit, since they were making the journey with servants from Houghton Manor. That meant he would be known to Scott’s neighbors and household and sister as Mr. Walker. He could never—even years down the road when this was, she prayed,herhome—visit as her father.
She felt as though the decision had been made for her. He would be the butler in the home where she had grown up and nothing more. She didn’t get to choose who he was in her life.