as the train can carry us.”
“Who is my father?” Jennifer asked as she stood.
“His name is Ronald McCormick. I lost track of him years ago. I don’t even know if he’s still in Scotland. Does it matter to you?”
“No,” Jennifer said. “Did he ever know about me?”
Ellen shook her head. “Only the three of us did. It was the only way our plan would work.”
“You must’ve been terrified. Unmarried, uncertain of the future.”
“Petrified and overjoyed,” Ellen said with a rueful smile. “My parents were very strict, so I had no doubt about their reaction. At the same time, I felt that I’d been blessed with you.”
“I know that your parents died a few years ago, but do I have any other relatives?”
“Cousins.”
“I don’t suppose I could go to them and introduce myself, could I?”
“Honestly, I thought your Gordon guessed my secret. He kept looking at us the night Harrison and I arrived at Adaire Hall, almost as if he saw a resemblance.”
Jennifer startled her by kneeling again. She took Ellen’s hands in hers. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me. It can’t have been easy.”
“It was infinitely easier than seeing you in pain, my darling girl.”
The night seemed to call for tears. When she embraced her daughter again, Ellen didn’t hold back this time.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jennifer’s whole life had been a lie. She suddenly knew, exactly, how Gordon had felt. When the foundation of your life turned out to be built on shifting sands, you questioned everything.
Taking the train to London was not an easy journey, but they would get there a day earlier than by carriage. Every day mattered.
She kept glancing at Ellen, but she hadn’t changed in appearance. Nor was she a different person now than she’d been yesterday. Yet the way Jennifer saw her had changed.
Their noses were the same. Their eye color was surprisingly similar. Why hadn’t she seen that before now?
All these years and she’d never guessed. She’d thought that Ellen was simply conscientious about being her godmother. She’d never realized that all the advice, all the concern, all the love was for another reason. She was Ellen’s daughter. Yet she was Mary’s, too. She was Lady Jennifer only because of the kindness of the Countess of Burfield and her husband.
Yet she’d loved them with all her heart. Just as she loved Ellen.
It didn’t seem fair that she’d been given so much love, and yet it had been stripped from Gordon. She would simply have to make up for the lack.
She thought back to all of those occasions when she’d been sent to Edinburgh to be with Ellen. Mary had been emphatic on the point, her rationale being that Jennifer needed to have a bit of experience with the world, and seeing Edinburgh and being with her godmother would provide that. When, in actuality, Mary had been insistent that Ellen get some time with her daughter.
Would she have been brave enough to give away her child? For that matter, would she be generous enough to take the child of a friend and raise it as her own? The two important women in her life had been true examples of courage and kindness.
She looked up to find Ellen studying her.
“Do you hate me?” Ellen asked. “Now that you know the truth?”
“How could I ever hate you?” Jennifer asked. “You gave me life. You’ve loved me. So did Mary. I’ve been twice blessed. I had not just one mother, but two.”
Ellen began blinking, and Jennifer realized she was trying to hold back tears. She moved to sit next to Ellen, grabbed her hands, and held them tightly.
“I was a fool,” Ellen said. “I was young and naive, but I thought myself in love.”
“I think love must make you foolish,” Jennifer said. “But it also makes you brave and kind and generous.”
The two of them smiled at each other.
Jennifer looked down at her gloved hands. Outwardly, she probably appeared calm. Inwardly, however, her stomach was jumping and her breath felt tight. She couldn’t wait to reach Gordon, to tell him the truth.
The journey to London seemed interminable. One good thing was that Abigail had been left behind. Jennifer could just imagine the trip with the maid’s constant complaints.
Would Gordon want to live in London? She didn’t particularly like the city, but if sacrifice was necessary to be with Gordon, then she was willing and eager to accept whatever price she had to pay. Perhaps it wouldn’t be easy, but a great many things that mattered weren’t particularly easy. And