He might have felt relieved at that answer, but Gillian still sounded miserable. She leaned back a little without entirely leaving his embrace. Her eyes darted from him to the door of the sitting room and back again. He understood her hesitancy.
“There is a lovely back lawn attached to the dower house. It is walled, so there is a great deal of privacy.”
“Would the dowager mind if we walked there?”
“I’m certain she wouldn’t.” He took her hand in his, knowing it was more of an outward show of affection than couples were generally granted, but he could sense she needed the support, and Mater was unlikely to be scandalized. Mrs. Brownlow was already up in her room, and the dower house staff was small, all of them currently occupied in seeing the new arrivals settled in.
They stepped from the sitting room and very nearly collided with Gillian’s father, of all people. Scott hadn’t the first idea what to say. Indeed, he was a little nervous to say anything, knowing Gillian’s current misery was, in some way, connected to the man. Her father was carrying a traveling trunk, which he would nothave been doing if he had come as a guest. He, then, was there as the butler and nothing else.
She had spoken with her father, had no doubt laid bare for him her wishes and heartache where he was concerned. And as far as Scott could tell, it hadn’t changed a thing. It was little wonder she was crying.
Mr. Walker dipped his head in acknowledgment of them as they passed. Then he looked more closely. Concern crossed his face. That Gillian had been and was continuing to cry could not possibly go unnoticed.
Scott wasn’t certain what to do. Did Gillian want to stop to talk with him? Would she have preferred Scott send him on his way with a few choice words? He looked to her, searching for some clue.
She offered it in spades. “Mrs. Brownlow has been shown to her room, Mr. Walker. As this is not a large house, I suspect you will find her easily.”
Mr. Walker.She didn’t mean to reach out to him as a daughter might to her father. That answered Scott’s question.
He kept his hand in hers as they walked out of the dower house. Eventually, he would need to have a very frank conversation with the man who was breaking his beloved’s heart. But in that moment, Gillian needed him, and he had vowed not to let go, not to relinquish his place at her side for however long she needed him to remain there.
They stepped out onto the lawn and began a slow walk along the edge, following the wall. Scott kept hold of her hand, allowing her to decide when and what she told him.
She didn’t wait long. “I told my father how much it hurt to have him not be my father all these years. I told him that I missed having him in my life, that I wanted him to be part of it moving forward. I told him I understood why we couldn’t tell everyonewhat he had been doing for those seven years, but I wanted to find a way to take down the barrier between us.”
“What did he say to that?” Scott could guess, based on the tears still pooling in her eyes.
“He was actually very understanding. I do think he truly heard me when I told him how much his choices hurt me. I do think he regrets it.”
“But?” He knew there was more.
“There doesn’t seem to be a way to fix this. While I’m at Houghton Manor, he cannot take on the role of my father. All the servants there know he’s been working as the butler. I don’t think they would intentionally cause me distress, but there are a lot of them.”
He nodded. “The more people who know a secret, the more difficult it is to keep.”
She wrapped her arm around his and leaned a bit against him as they walked. “There have been visitors to Houghton Manor over the years. They know him as the butler there, so he can’t go to London and be my father while I’m there. There is a very real chance he would be recognized.”
That was true, though Scott hadn’t thought of it himself.
“My last little bubble of hope was that someday, when your estate is set to rights and I— we—” She blushed deeply but pushed onward. “He could come here and be my father for the length of those visits. I don’t think anyone who lives in this area has ever visited Houghton Manor. They wouldn’t know anything about his life there.”
It was, actually, a rather brilliant solution. She would get to have her father in her life with minimal risk of scandal.
“Then he and Mrs. Brownlow decided he ought to travel here now,” Gillian said. “But he has to do so as a servant because our coachman and Mrs. Brownlow’s abigail know him that way.”
“And now everyone in this area will know him as Mr. Walker.”
She took a shaky breath. “It was the only hope I had, and they snatched it away.”
“Did they not consult with you at all?”
“No. Just as no one consulted with me seven years ago. Even at only fourteen, I would have known how ill-conceived the idea was. I just want to have a family again, Scott. I want to have my father back. But I feel like every time I get close, it slips out of my grasp again.”
They were at the far corner of the garden. Scott stopped their forward movement and, instead, pulled her into his embrace once more. “I’m sorry, Gillian. I truly am.”
“We are quite the pair, aren’t we?” She buried herself against him, fully tucked into his arms. “Neither of us can seem to escape the consequences of other people’s choices.”
There was more truth in that than he wished there were. “I do hope you come see Sarvol House during your time here, but it will quickly become apparent the consequences of my uncle’s decisions and how many years it will take for us to escape them. I’m selling what I can to amass capital enough to implement our plans for Thimbleby, but it will take time. And even then, it won’t turn a profit immediately.”