He’d been told that he wasn’t good enough for her, and the shame of that had remained with him. Not only McBain had told him that, but his own father had evidently said something similar. The fact that Gordon had returned to Adaire Hall at all was an indication of the strength of his character.
She loved him. How could she not? Five years had not diminished those feelings. What did he feel for her? He hadn’t said and she wouldn’t ask.
The courage she felt earlier had dissipated, faded into nothing.
He could go back to London as easily as he came, without another word to her. He could leave and return to the life he’d created for himself and what would she do? Endure another abandonment?
She stepped back. She was determined not to let him see how emotional she felt. As a boy he’d always teased her when she cried.
“Jennifer.”
She turned and left him, walking as fast as she could back to the Hall. She half expected him to follow her, but he didn’t.
That made her cry even more.
Shame washed over Gordon.
He’d allowed McBain to tell him a story, and he’d believed it. Even worse, he’d never written Jennifer to get her side. Why, because he didn’t want to know? Anything was better than McBain’s version of events.
He had a great many burned bridges to rebuild.
The question was, could he?
As far as his grandiose plans about impressing her, she hadn’t even asked about his empire.
What had he thought to do, coming back to Adaire Hall? He’d wanted to mend the rift with Sean. Perhaps he’d even wanted to impress him, too. Finally, he would prove that he was as good as one of the Adaires.
More than that, he’d wanted to find out, once and for all, if he’d been a fool to keep Jennifer in his mind and heart all these years. He certainly hadn’t done anything to mend that rift tonight, had he?
He’d learned to change his destiny in London. He’d fought and scrapped for the future he’d wanted. The men he’d bested in London called him a rogue. As far as they were concerned, he was a Scottish ruffian who was determined to succeed, even if that meant he followed his own rules and not theirs.
He outbid, undercut, and paid higher wages, all of which made him an irritant to other businessmen. He also dared to employ women in high positions, something that wasn’t normally done. According to one wag, he was undermining how business was done.
If he could do that, he could bridge the gulf that now existed between him and Jennifer.
He wasn’t going to lose the woman he loved.
Chapter Ten
Jennifer spent a restless night, barely sleeping. She went over and over her conversation with Gordon, both understanding why he’d stayed away and annoyed and hurt that he had, and furious that he’d never written her.
She didn’t have any words to ease what had happened to him. She felt anger on his behalf, but to whom did she express it now? Not Mr. McBain. He’d moved back to Edinburgh. Not Sean, because he was dying. Betty was beyond any human emotion.
Where did they go from here? After Sean died, was Gordon simply going to go back to London?
Did he feel anything for her?
She was up before dawn, dressed, and making her way to the loch. Here, on this bench where they’d sat last night, was the place she came when she wanted to think. No one from the house followed her here, as if they knew she needed to be alone.
She sat there for some time, watching as the rising sun bathed the horizon in light.
“You’re right,” Gordon said.
She turned her head to see Gordon standing there.
“You’re right. I should have written you and asked how you felt.”
“I can see how you’d believe McBain, especially if he had the notes I’d saved.”
“You were the only good and decent thing about my life here all those years. I couldn’t bear the idea of you verifying McBain’s words and turning all of that into dust.”
He came and sat beside her.
“I wouldn’t have,” she said. “You were the best part of my life, too.” She smiled faintly. “When you left, it was like all the life went out of every day.”
He placed his hand on hers.
“I couldn’t stop what I felt for you,” she said, “even when you didn’t write me back. Perhaps I was foolish.”
“If you were, then I’m grateful for it.”
“Why stay away five years, Gordon McDonnell? Why make