Gordon mattered, more than anything else in her life.
Gordon thanked his new advocate, stood, and made his way out of the office with the sheaf of papers he’d been given. He had suspected that claiming an earldom would not be an easy process, but he hadn’t realized how much paperwork would be involved. He had signed a half dozen documents attesting to what Sean had told him. His advocate had also suggested that Margaret McBride could be encouraged to testify and was sending an associate to Adaire Hall for that purpose.
Had the countess sensed a resemblance? He couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different if her vision hadn’t been so badly damaged.
Circumstances had been perfect for Betty’s deception. His father had died when he was five. His mother had been badly injured. There were no close relatives to see a resemblance and because of the countess’s injuries, visitors had not flocked to Adaire Hall as they had in earlier days.
But for Sean’s honesty, he would never have known his true identity. For that, he should probably be grateful to the man, but that emotion was currently beyond him.
Two weeks had passed, and he was intent on getting back to work. His claim would snake its way through the courts. No doubt at some point it would reach the newspapers. Before that happened, however, he was going to call in Harrison’s markers.
He would have to let Jennifer know. He didn’t want her blindsided by his actions. He wouldn’t be able to sell Adaire Hall, but he could empty it to pay Harrison’s debts.
He’d write her. Somehow, he’d manage not to feel anything, and if he did, he’d simply quash that emotion before it had a chance to break free.
The rain echoed his mood, made Edinburgh dark and gloomy.
According to his advocate, he had a good chance of pleading his case to the court and even winning. It wasn’t enough to offset the greater loss of the woman he loved. Somehow, he would have to overcome that, but he suspected it would be years in the making.
When they finally reached London, their first destination was Ellen’s home.
Jennifer wanted to change her dress, fix her hair, and ensure that she looked her best. She raced through all those preparations and was slowed only by Ellen’s refusal to leave the house without a decent meal.
“I do not consider having an apple in the train station to be sufficient nourishment. If you don’t want to faint at Gordon’s feet, you will at least take some soup.”
She sat reluctantly and agreed to eat a hearty vegetable soup with an accompaniment of bread and butter. Ellen was probably right, because she did feel better immediately. She wasn’t nearly as shaky, and her stomach had stopped doing that curious trembling.
Gordon was only minutes away. She was finally going to see him. All she had to do was wait a few minutes, that’s all. An hour at the most.
Finally, they were on their way.
Jennifer had given the driver Gordon’s address. When they pulled up in front of the town house, she was surprised for two reasons. First of all, Gordon’s residence was only a block or two from Ellen’s house. Secondly, it was the equal in size, if not slightly larger.
“I would say that your Gordon has done quite well for himself,” Ellen said.
“I like it when you call him my Gordon. He is my Gordon. He always has been.”
Ellen smiled at her. She had been doing that a lot for the past two days. Could it be that she had wanted to reveal her identity for years, but been constrained by her promise to Mary?
Gordon’s home was designed like so many town houses, in that it was predominantly brick with a black door and white framed windows, sparkling in the afternoon sun. The approach was formal, however, the path lined by an ornate wrought iron border.
All this time she’d been thinking of Gordon living in London in a small house or flat. She’d never considered that he would own such a spacious dwelling. It was a sign of his character, perhaps, that he hadn’t bragged about his acquisition.
Ellen’s driver opened the carriage door and unfurled the steps, helping them out to the street. Together, they walked up the broad steps to the front door.
“I shall not be intrusive,” Ellen said. “I’ll leave and give the two of you time to talk.”