Chapter Fifteen
“I must apologize, Miss Burroughs, for the way my cousin has behaved towards you.” Roland Montgomery stood stiffly near the day bed on which Gwendolyn was resting.
“I fear his mother indulged him as a child and his father neglected him. That is an explanation of, not an excuse for, his abominable behavior.”
Gwendolyn listened in silence. It was almost impossible to describe the relief she felt at the news of Robert Walker’s departure from Cumbria.
But despair fought with that relief. She would have to give up Laura, let her be raised here on this farm and never see her except from a distance.
Of course, she had only herself to blame for her situation, but she heartily regretted the consequences.
And she wanted to scream, to hit out at Lord Roland Montgomery, Baron of Ashfell.
Was he so completely heartless and lacking in awareness that he had no inkling of how much she admired and loved him?
She did not expect that someone of his reserved character would rush into the farmhouse, throw himself down at her feet and declare eternal love for her and Laura, vowing to take them both home with him right then and protect them forever.
And yet she wished he would. His overly stiff, polite comportment made her feel awkward.
She drew on the almost-forgotten rules of etiquette she had learned from governesses and her mother.
“Thank you, Lord Montgomery, for bringing me the news personally. I wish Mr. Walker well in his future endeavors.”
Roland nodded curtly. Gwendolyn was bearing the shattering of her dreams with an unexpected fortitude.
He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her passionately, promising that nothing would ever separate her from her child.
Or from him. But she had given her heart to Robert and that bastard had trampled on it as if it were nothing more than discarded trash on the streets of London.
No doubt, she needed time to grieve the loss of her dreams and find a balm for her shattered heart.
If he, Roland, were ever to have the chance to woo and win her, he would need to give her time to recover from her disappointment. And so for now he would continue to support her and baby Laura and over time let her discover that he desired her, admired her. Loved her.
He could hardly remember why he had initially thought she should be discouraged from pursuing a connection with his family.
Even as these thoughts ran through his mind, he almost scoffed at himself.
The evidence of her unsuitability was right there in the baby sleeping in the old cradle next to her bed.
But the last few months had peeled back the layers of ostentation and flirtatiousness, revealing a woman of compassion, intellect, and humor.
Her parents had not given her the love and guidance that would have nurtured the beauty of her character and he believed that given the right environment and a man who loved her unconditionally, she would blossom into a truly remarkable woman.
He scoffed at his own arrogance. Gwendolyn was already remarkable and any man who was privileged to be admitted into her heart would be fortunate indeed.
Mariana, sitting in her usual spot near the window, raised an eyebrow at the two impossible lovers. “Well, I think Gwen is well-rid of Mr. Walker. If he had ever really loved her, he wouldn’t have delayed marrying her last year, before he ruined her reputation.”
Gwendolyn leaned back and looked at her cousin.
“I was never under any illusion that he might love me. I am not sure if he has discovered the capacity to love anyone, but I had hoped that if we married, it would clear away so many of the difficulties I face, that you face with me, Mary. And Laura would have had every opportunity for a good life.”
Mariana dropped her book onto the windowsill and knelt beside Gwendolyn’s couch.
She took her cousin’s hand in hers. “We are better off now than we would have been if you had married Robert. You would have been miserable, and I wouldn’t have been able to bear the thought that your life was so unhappy.
And Laura will be far happier not being forced to follow the dictates of the haut ton.
We will find a way to bounce back, to face the world, although it might not be the Beau Monde. ”
Gwendolyn blinked back tears and smiled at Mariana. “Thank you. You’re right. Together we will conquer the world. Or at least be strong enough to survive what faces us now.”
Roland felt somewhat de trop. He had no place in Gwendolyn’s life. If he wanted to be significant to her, then he would need to find a way to convince her of his love. And perhaps, after a while, she would learn to love him, too.
Mrs. Ewbanks interrupted them, carrying in a tray on which a tea set brought a promise of refreshments.
Gracie was just behind her, balancing two plates, one with fruit cake on it and the other with scones, in her hands.
And behind her, Peggy brought in a plate of delicately cut sandwiches while little Maisie was careful not to drop the gingerbread that was arranged in a small wicker basket.
“Oh, good.” Gwendolyn clapped her hands. “That all looks delicious. And now we can have a party.” She sat up straighter, making room for Maisie to crawl onto the couch beside her while Peggy and Gracie leaned over the cradle and made cooing noises to baby Laura who was just waking up.
Roland finally unbent sufficiently to sit down on a small settee and accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Ewbanks.
When everyone had their tea and something to eat, Mrs. Ewbanks pulled a letter out of her pocket and handed it to Gwendolyn.
“Lady Maynard has written to me, and her daughter has sent a letter to you. They are coming to see you in the Spring. When Lady Maynard is here we will make final arrangements for you two ladies and baby Laura.”
*
A cuckoo sang clearly in the sunny front garden as it sought its mate.
Swallows swooped in the sky searching for the barns and eaves where they had nested the previous year.
And Gwendolyn strolled around the garden, gathering daffodils and bluebells so that she could bring the beauty of Spring indoors.
Mariana cut roses from the bushes while Laura cooed in her little crib and tried to catch a passing butterfly.
Gwendolyn stopped and looked around at the fresh green of the trees and the bright colors of Spring. She breathed in deeply. “It is lovely to be outdoors. I wonder what time the Maynards will arrive.”
Mariana looked down the road that led to High Fell Manor as if they could appear there any minute. “I suppose it is difficult to predict exact times when the roads are still so muddy. They might have traveled quickly or they might have broken a wheel and be stuck in a wayside village somewhere.”
The Maynards were going to be guests of Roland Montgomery at High Fell Manor because there was not room enough at the farm, especially now when the Spring work required extra hands.
Gwendolyn was looking forward to seeing Freya but also dreading their arrival.
She had never been as happy as she was now although there was one slightly bitter note in her cup.
Roland Montgomery continued to be civil and polite, but he had never shown even a hint of anything more developing between them.
She didn’t want this period of happiness to end and yet she was sure that Lady Maynard would whisk her and Mariana away and she would have to leave her baby here in this paradise.
She glanced at the blanket where the little girl was raising her little hands and grasping the rays of light that filtered through the trees.
It was impossible, Gwendolyn thought, to love any person as much as she loved her daughter. But she was wise enough to know that love often demanded impossible sacrifices.
*
Two days later, the children had just left for school and Mariana and Gwendolyn were helping Mrs. Ewbanks clear away the breakfast dishes when the sound of a carriage brought them all to the window to see who had come to visit them.
“Oh lordy-love,” Mrs. Ewbanks muttered. “I didn’t think gentry would call this early in the day.
” She had already untied her apron and was smoothing her hair but Mariana and Gwendolyn didn’t hear her.
They had quickly cast aside their own aprons and were already out on the driveway, having recognized the Maynard’s crest on the carriage.
The footman let down the step so slowly that Freya was already pushing the door open before he could get to it.
“We’re here!” she announced. She stepped out and shook her green dress straight.
A little dog leaped out of the carriage behind her, prancing on her pretty paws.
The farm dogs came to investigate this strange creature who had obviously never spent a night outdoors and didn’t know how to herd a flock of sheep or catch rats in the barn.
Freya’s hazel eyes were sparkling as she hugged first Mariana and then Gwendolyn.
“I’m so glad you’re well,” she said. “When Mariana wrote to tell us about your misadventures in the snow, it was like something that happened in a novel, not in real life at all. Who knew that Lord Montgomery would prove to be the hero of your story?”
Gwendolyn felt the blood rush to her face.
Roland Montgomery might have been a hero in some ways, but he wasn’t her hero.
He visited the farm regularly but she had given up all hope that he would learn to love her.
He was always polite and friendly, but no more so than he was towards Mariana or even the farm workers.
He treated her with the perfect indifference of polite acquaintances.