he employed in London. More than a few of them were fascinating individuals. Men who had come up in life through sheer grit and determination. Women who’d turned their backs on their individual pasts in order to believe in a better future.
His life wasn’t here, but by marrying him Jennifer would have to leave Adaire Hall. Was she prepared to do that? Would she trade the life she knew for one with him?
Now was not the time to ask her to be his wife. That was for later, perhaps. Or even tomorrow beside the loch. He had planned what he would say. The words wouldn’t be difficult. In fact, they’d be the easiest ones he’d ever speak.
“What the hell is this, Jennifer?”
They both looked toward the doorway. Harrison stood there.
The current Earl of Burfield was a big man, tall with broad shoulders, but he’d recently started going to fat because of his indolent life in London. He slept most of the day, spending his nights at either the gaming tables or in a private card game. When he wasn’t gambling, he was drinking or eating or involved with one of the women he brought to the Mayfair Club.
Harrison had tried to entice every one of Gordon’s female employees to his bed. They’d all refused him. Gordon had a rule that fraternizing with customers was grounds for being fired. That hadn’t delayed Harrison all that much. He’d simply gone outside the club to find his female companions.
His eyes were bloodshot, his face puffy. He looked twenty years older than his age. Even his blond strands were thinning and hinting at baldness in the not-too-distant future.
He was a perfect picture of a man who lived a dissolute lifestyle.
Gordon stood as Harrison entered the room followed by a woman he vaguely recognized. It took him a moment before he placed her. Mrs. Thornton, Jennifer’s godmother. They’d never been introduced, but he’d seen her before. He’d always disliked watching her arrive because it meant that she was going to take Jennifer away for weeks at a time.
“McDonnell. The gardener’s boy,” Harrison said.
“The same,” Gordon said, nodding to Mrs. Thornton.
Jennifer stood. “Where have you been?” She glanced at her godmother. “Are you responsible for bringing him home?” Before Mrs. Thornton could answer, Jennifer turned to her brother again. “Is that the only reason you’re here? I think you should care less about who my guest is and more about how your wife is faring.”
“She’s having the baby. That’s how she’s faring.”
“Go and see her. Now. We’ll talk later, but for now you need to see your wife.”
Harrison sent a fulminating glance toward him, then turned and left the room without another word.
The kitten had tamed the bear.
“I’m not entirely certain Mrs. Farmer will let him in, earl or no earl,” Jennifer said. She turned back to her godmother. “Ellen, I’d like you to meet Gordon McDonnell. Gordon, my godmother, Mrs. Thornton.”
Mrs. Thornton looked somewhat bemused. “Pleasure,” she murmured.
“Mrs. Thornton,” he said, inclining his head slightly.
“Would you like to join us?” Jennifer asked.
Gordon pulled out a chair between them. Ellen smiled as she took it, removing her gloves and hat.
“Indeed I should. I’m famished. I wanted to get here as quickly as possible, so we rarely stopped. Has Lauren had her baby?”
Jennifer rang the bell on the sideboard. Before the servants arrived, they spent the next few minutes in a conversation that Gordon would have avoided if he could. It consisted of talk about labor pains, the travails of women, and the mechanics of birth, none of which he wanted to know.
A few moments later Jennifer glanced at him.
“I think we’re scaring Gordon,” she said with a smile.
He wasn’t frightened, but he didn’t want to be privy to this particular conversation. Thankfully, Jennifer took pity on him and changed the subject.
They talked of London, the journey to Scotland accomplished by train as well as carriage, anything but childbirth.
It turned out that Ellen owned a home in London not far from his own town house. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had acquaintances in common as well.
“Are you related to the Adaire family?” he asked Ellen.
She thanked the maid for delivering her soup, then glanced at him.
“You and Jennifer have the same green eyes.”
“How odd. I was just thinking that you reminded me of Alex, but perhaps it’s just coloring.”
“How were you able to convince Harrison to come home?” Jennifer asked.
“It wasn’t me at all, I’m afraid,” Ellen responded. “But the woman who manages Harrison’s favorite club.