however, she’d had a bench built, placing it near a stand of pines overlooking the water.
She took the lead, guiding him to the bench. It was only about three years old, one of her favorite places to come, sit, and remember. Once there, she sat at one end, pulling her skirts to the side. He joined her and still they remained silent, both looking out at the water.
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, the constriction in her throat nearly choking her. She felt on the verge of tears.
He finally began to speak. “I was only the gardener’s boy, a young man who was occasionally punished for thoughts above his station. How many times did my parents say that to me? I lost count.”
“So you left and stayed away five years. Five years we could have had together.”
He glanced at her. “Where, Jennifer? Where could we have had those years? In London?” He shook his head. “You don’t know what those early years were like. I wouldn’t have subjected you to that.”
“You don’t understand, Gordon. I would have done anything, gone anywhere, just to be with you.”
“And I wouldn’t have asked that of you.”
“So, your type of love has to be perfect? Everything pristine and without flaw? Nothing’s that pretty, Gordon. I would have gone with you. Don’t you understand?”
“How could I have taken you from here? You were an earl’s daughter, an earl’s sister.”
“I was myself, first,” she said, uncaring that the words were too loud, nearly echoing in the silence of the night.
“I was told that I wasn’t good enough for you. Just the gardener’s boy. Not suitable for Lady Jennifer of Adaire Hall.”
She shook her head. “You were Gordon. My Gordon. You were eminently suitable for me.”
“All three of them were at the door, Jennifer. All of them watching as I left. McBain, Harrison, and my own father.”
She stood and moved away from the bench, the one place she’d come when she couldn’t bear the loneliness anymore, when the hurt over his behavior made her cry.
“Jennifer.” He stretched out his hand toward her.
“That didn’t stop you from writing me. You could have written me. You could have said, ‘Jennifer, I’m in London. I’m well. Don’t worry about me.’ Did you never think of me?”
“Every day.”
“You couldn’t have,” she said, shaking her head. “You couldn’t have and never let me know where you were or what you were doing. Five years, Gordon. Five very long years. I didn’t even know if you’d found someone else. If you’d fallen in love or married.”
“Of course I didn’t. I was too busy.”
She looked at him, wishing that the moon hadn’t gone behind a cloud. His face was shrouded in darkness, and she couldn’t read his expression.
“What about you, Jennifer? Why haven’t you married? Do you have a sweetheart somewhere?”
No one but you.
“No, no sweetheart.”
“In all this time you might have met someone. You might have married, Jennifer. Had your own home.”
“I was given the chance. My godmother took me to see London and also insisted on my having a season in Edinburgh. I did everything any young woman would do.”
“Except get married and have your own family.”
“There was no one I liked well enough to marry,” she said, giving him the truth. Besides, she’d held out hope that he would return. “Everyone was too interested in the fact that I was an earl’s sister. Not to mention that more than one suitor seemed interested in the legacy from my father. What would I be bringing to the marriage? Not simply myself, but how much of an income could they expect?”
She turned and faced the loch. “Besides, how could I be sure that I wouldn’t be abandoned again?”
Perhaps that’s why she felt so sorry for Lauren. She knew what it felt like to love someone who left you.
“Jennifer.”
She moved back to stand in front of the bench.
“Forgive me. You’re right. I should have written you and asked.”
“You abandoned me, Gordon.”
“Not because I wanted to.”
He stood and walked toward her.
“Forgive me, Jennifer.”
He opened his arms and she walked into them. They stood like that for a long time until she stepped back and looked up at him.
What could she say? What words would soften the cruelty of that moment five years ago? All she could do was put her hand on his arm, connecting with him. The man wasn’t so far removed from the boy. Gordon’s pride had always been fierce.
The answer to why he’d stayed away was in his voice.