the longer they were together, the more they clashed. That hadn’t changed in five years.
Jennifer was rarely left alone. Everyone came to her for answers, from Robbie Stewart in the stable inquiring about the winter feed to a milkmaid who reported a problem with one of the cows. There was the secondary storeroom to unlock for Mrs. Thompson and the instructions to be given to the upper maids about removing some excess furniture and storing it in the attic. The main cistern had to be inspected because there was ceiling damage in one of the third-floor rooms and suspicion that the lead cistern had sprung a leak.
The only place she seemed to be without someone tugging on her had been at the loch. When he mentioned that to her, she got a curious look on her face.
“I think it’s probably because whenever anyone found me there, I was crying. So, I think the word went out not to bother me if I’d gone there.”
He didn’t ask the reason for her tears, because he was all too afraid he was the cause. How could he ever make those years up to her? Perhaps simply by refusing to leave her again.
In the afternoon she had to inspect the linens.
“We have so many guest rooms. Granted, they aren’t used much now, but they once were.”
“And you have to do this why?”
“Because it’s good stewardship. Just like moving the sheep from one glen to another. You don’t use the same set of sheets all the time, for fear of wearing them out. Some of them were purchased from France and were very expensive.”
“Do you have to do it? Why can’t Mrs. Thompson? Isn’t that her responsibility?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “But Mrs. Thompson can’t make decisions about what should be retired or what should be mended. In actuality, it isn’t my task at all, but Lauren’s. Nor is it something we do often, only once a year. But it’s scheduled for today, and if I don’t do it today, then that means I will have to wait until tomorrow, which means that I might not finish the inspection of the larder. We could be low on foodstuffs of a certain type. That wouldn’t please Doris.”
He leaned up against the wall, folded his arms, and studied her. He’d never before considered that running a house, especially one the size of Adaire Hall, could be a full-time occupation.
“Do you have a chart?” he asked. “One that tells you what you need to do at a certain time?”
“I do,” she said, nodding. “It’s my annual journal.”
He kept a calendar himself, one for each of his establishments. There were things that he needed to do regarding maintenance and upkeep of the properties. It was the only way he could oversee everything.
“Did you take on all this when Lauren couldn’t?”
She shook her head. “No, earlier than that. After you left.”
The words hung in the air.
“Both our lives changed, then,” he said.
She nodded. “When I wasn’t in Edinburgh, being paraded through the marriage mart. My godmother married late, but she was still determined to find me a husband.”
“No likely candidates?” he asked, smiling.
She shook her head. “Besides, they weren’t you.”
“For which I’m eternally grateful.”
She didn’t say anything, merely tilted her head slightly.
“Did you expect me to be an idiot and say that I’m sorry you couldn’t find a husband? I’m not that much of a hypocrite.”
“Are you being a dog in the manger, Gordon McDonnell? You didn’t want me yourself, but you didn’t want anyone else to have me—is that it?”
“Who said I didn’t want you, Jennifer Adaire?”
He smiled at her and stood aside so that she could enter the linen room. She didn’t get a chance to say anything further because Mrs. Thompson and one of the maids were standing there waiting for her.
It was truly unfair. He couldn’t say something to her like that when she couldn’t respond. Jennifer frowned at him, but that didn’t stop Gordon from smiling.
Who said I didn’t want you?
“Miss Jennifer?”
She could feel her cheeks warming as she looked at the housekeeper.
“Yes, Mrs. Thompson,” she said briskly. “Shall we get on?”
The annual inspection of the linens wasn’t a complicated task, but it was time-consuming. They had to open each folded sheet and inspect its condition. If it needed mending, it would go in one pile to be given to the seamstress and her assistants. If a sheet was deemed too damaged it went into another stack. They were either sent to be used