Chapter Two #2
Olivia, who was only two, blabbered something impossible to understand and climbed into her father’s arms. Dina forced her eyes away from David and moved to take Olivia, but Mr. Jennings shook his head at her, smiling with good humor.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Jennings said, rising to his feet with Olivia in his arms and Rebecca and Elizabeth pressing against him from both sides.
“Would you excuse me for a few minutes? I need to see my girls to the nursery.” He turned toward Dina.
“Can you relieve me in, say, a quarter of an hour? Is that enough time?”
“Certainly,” Dina said with a grateful nod, embarrassed to have all this said in front of his guests, but appreciative of his help.
“We shall wait for you at the archery range, Jennings,” one of the men Dina did not know suggested.
“Excellent,” Mr. Jennings said as he turned toward the stairs. “Stop at the stables and tell Harold of our plans; he’ll bring the equipment.”
“I want to arch-hary,” Rebecca whined.
“Me too,” Elizabeth echoed.
“Not today, my dears,” Mr. Jennings said.
He’d had child-sized bows and blunt-tipped arrows made for the girls last Christmas.
Oliva was too young to do anything but throw the arrows by hand at the ground a foot in front of her, but all three girls loved going to the range with their father.
Mary’s father, Uncle Albert, had been like that, doting on his only daughter and involving her as much as possible in the things he loved.
He had always included Dina when she was visiting.
Albert’s older brother, David’s father, had been a harder man.
Dina had no memory of her own father, who had died when she younger than Oliva was now.
The men moved in the direction of the door that would release them to the yard while Mr. Jennings turned to the stairs, his daughters fastened to him like barnacles.
“I shall play with them until you return,” Mr. Jennings said over his shoulder, then growled like a bear and made stomping noises on his way up the stairs, eliciting giggles and squeals from his audience of three.
Dina moved to follow them up but then stopped. The air had not thinned with the men’s departure, and she looked over her shoulder to see David still standing in the foyer.
Mr. Jennings continued up the stairs. Dina stayed where she was, as did David, until they were alone. Several feet apart, eyes only for each other.
A dozen things came to mind that Dina should say: “It is inappropriate for us to be alone.” “Why didn’t you go with the other men?” “I need to see to my dress.”
“I enjoyed meeting Miss Johansson at tea today. She seems like a good woman,” she said instead.
He nodded. “She is a good woman from a good family.”
“She was very kind toward Mrs. Donning.”
He nodded again but said nothing.
“I am happy for you, David.” He believed her, didn’t he?
“Yes, you have already told me that; Beannachd Dia dhuit.”
She smiled at his repetition of the blessing she’d pronounced at their first meeting.
He shifted his weight and looked side to side as though assuring they were unobserved before meeting her eye again. “I am unsettled about us, Cullodina.”
She should remind him to call her Miss Cameron. She didn’t. “I wish you were not unsettled.”
“As do I.” He took a step toward her and lowered his voice, which created a shiver upon her skin and tempted her to reach out and touch him.
Feel the sandy texture of his chin, smooth the line between his eyebrows, run her fingers through his hair.
“Why did you leave London so suddenly all those years ago? What happened?”
She was standing at the base of the stairs and could take a step up if she wanted to preserve a more comfortable distance between them.
In London she had once done exactly that when he had walked her to the base of the stairs at the end of the night.
Mary had remained in the parlor with a few friends who did not seem inclined to leave any time soon.
On that night, she had taken that first step on the stairs, realized they were eye level, and leaned forward to kiss him without having to go onto her toes as she usually did.
It had not been their first kiss, but it was the first time she’d taken the lead.
He had liked her boldness, and her going up one stair had become a pattern they’d repeated whenever the chance arose.
She dared not risk him remembering and therefore kept the smaller-than-appropriate space between them instead and clasped her hands behind her back to prevent her giving in to temptation. “It is as I’ve told you, I realized that I had not been ready to leave Scotland after all.”
“Overnight?”
“It had been on my mind awhile and then became impossible to ignore.”
His furrowed brow said that he did not fully believe her.
“We were nineteen years old,” she explained further, though he knew all of this too.
If he hadn’t known they were too young back then, he’d have realized it later.
“You had schooling left to complete and holdings to learn to manage and . . .” Did she dare say more?
Would additional details help him or hurt him?
Perhaps that was not her decision to make and she should trust him to make sense of what she could offer.
“And since I could never have become your wife, what did that leave fer me besides ruin and heartbreak?”
His eyebrows made the slightest jump together, and his eyes narrowed. He held her with the look, and she sensed he wanted to say more, but then his expression settled to neutral. “I see.”
They held each other’s eyes a few moments longer, then he bowed slightly. “I should rejoin the party. Good day, Miss Cameron.”
It became her turn to feel unsettled. She reviewed their conversation as she changed out of her dress and petticoat, which had also fallen victim to Rebecca’s tea.
Had she misspoken? She reviewed her words again and determined that she had not.
Everything she said had been true, yet how could he not be offended?
He’d never taken advantage of her. She’d been willing, even eager, but her words just now had implied that she put the responsibility of their actions on him.
She’d all but said that she believed he would ruin her and carry on with his life.
Her cheeks heated and her eyes filled to know she’d hurt him with those words, but maybe that was for the best too.
As she’d told herself a hundred times before, a wee bit of pain now was better than a wash of it later.
Movement in the yard caught her eye as she crossed the window on her way to the wardrobe for a fresh dress.
The rudimentary archery range was on the west side, out of view from her bedchamber window, but the area of the garden she and the children frequented was directly below.
A man and a woman were walking quickly toward the tree line of the woods hand in hand.
She stepped back in case they were to look up and see her dressed in only her shift and stays, but once she realized they were only intent on their destination, her curiosity got the better of her and she stepped closer to the glass.
She recognized Miss Johansson by her dark hair and the pale pink dress she had been wearing at tea, and her throat became thick with the weight of witnessing what was likely the beginnings of a tryst in the thick woods beyond the yard.
She was quite content to believe that Miss Johansson and David did not share the touches and affection she and David had once shared.
Only . . . she leaned in closer. The man pulling Miss Johansson into the cover of the woods had brown hair, not David’s tell-tale red.