The Bachelor's Bride (The Thompsons of Locust Street #1) - Holly Bush Page 0,15

out today about my family that was disturbing. More than disturbing, I suppose. It has changed my view of someone near and dear to me for the worse. I resent it. I resent knowing the facts, and I resent knowing that there are facts that have upset my view of the world.”

“Oh dear. That is troubling,” she said.

“It is. Very much so.”

Mr. Pendergast was still standing but had put one foot up on the bench, his elbow on his knee. He was shaking his head slowly and staring off into the trees, just getting their first buds. He looked lonely or maybe just alone. She wasn’t certain, but there was something in his attitude and bearing that made her want to offer comfort, even if that comfort required a confession herself.

“There are . . .” she began and stopped to clear her throat. “There are secrets in my family. My younger sister and brother and I have not been told all the details of our family history. I don’t know why. We came here thirteen years ago from Scotland with my parents and my Aunt Murdoch. She’s my great aunt actually. My parents died during the crossing and were buried at sea. We stayed in our berth with Aunt Murdoch when their bodies were . . .” She turned her head away sharply.

“I’m sorry to have brought up such painful memories. How old were you?”

“I was nine years old.”

She fell silent then, thinking about the glimpse she’d had of her mother’s and father’s bodies, wrapped in heavy white canvas. Even today, it made her short of breath and panicky. She looked up at him.

“I hope for your sake that your family, those near and dear to you, are not in danger. Even if there’s been some revelation that is upsetting, your loved one is still here on this earth. It’s not a trivial thing to be thankful that they are still alive or that whatever has come to light will somehow change your outlook. You can do both.”

Miss Thompson stared at him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her words startled him, he thought as he concentrated on the arch of her brow and the contrasting shades of green in her eyes. Was he being ridiculous or overly emotional? He was going to have to think this through. Think through what he thought and why, especially in light of what she’d just said. He had a sudden vision of holding her hand in his and her leaning against him as they walked, her head occasionally tilting to touch her cheek to his shoulder.

“I love my parents and my sister. I’m very fond of my cousins and aunts and uncles. Even the ones who are less than pleasant,” he said, truthfully, he realized. “They’re my family, and my mother has always said there is nothing more important than family.”

“We have always been taught the same thing. That family is all there is.”

“But sometimes . . .” he whispered.

“Sometimes they do or say something that makes us furious.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Even still,” she said, “I cannot hate them or even stay mad for very long.”

He straightened away from the bench and shoved his hands in his pants pockets, knowing he was not conducting himself as the gentleman his mother insisted upon. How could his father have done what he did to his mother? It was impossible to square that behavior with the way his father had always appeared, but did he love his father less? He didn’t think so.

“I doubt if I can either. I suppose we will see as I’ve never been this angry with him before.”

“Your father?”

He nodded and looked away. “He had an affair with a woman after he married my mother. He fathered a child.”

“Oh dear. No wonder you are angry.”

“Apparently, he did not see her too many times, but he did tell my mother when the woman told him she was expecting, and they decided together to support the child and its mother. The child died in infancy.”

“How terrible. But I’m glad that your mother and father supported the woman. Do you have any idea what usually happens to women who find themselves in that situation? They are maligned, even today in our modern world. They are looked down on and have little chance of a happy future. What happened to the woman? Do you know?”

“I don’t. I’m not sure I want to know any more details.”

“It can’t hurt you any more than it already has, I don’t