Page 76 of Romancing the Scot
So much about her future was unresolved. This was, for now, why discretion was essential.
“Where is she?” Jo’s voice resonated through Baronsford’s halls. “Where is she hiding, Mrs. Henson? Where is my future sister-in-law?”
So much for discretion. Grace wished she could crawl under the rug and hide. Hugh must have told his sister their news on the ride back from church.
“Here you are.”
Jo burst into the study, and Grace put down the book she had in her hand. The broad smile on her friend’s face brought her own emotions quickly to the surface.
“Please, Jo. Nothing is definite. You shouldn’t announce it.”
She didn’t have a chance to say any more as Hugh’s sister threw her arms around her. The woman’s happiness was positively contagious. The two held each other, and Grace couldn’t stop the tears. Her love for Hugh and her friendship with Jo were the only things that she was confident of in this uncertain life she was leading.
“I’ve hoped for this. For eight years, I’ve prayed that he would find happiness again.” Jo’s eyes were misty when she drew back and held Grace’s hands. “And then it happened. The day you arrived in that crate. The fact that you survived that horrendous crossing. It was a sure sign. You two were meant to be together.”
Grace smiled through her tears. If only others could view their relationship with such positive hope and belief. She gathered her friend once again in her arms.
“Please, I told Hugh and I’m telling you, we cannot make this news public. If we could just wait . . . if not for the Prince Regent’s decision, then at least until we find out your parents’ position.”
“There will be no waiting,” Jo said, leading her to a sofa where they both sat. “First of all, Hugh makes up his own mind on how he lives his life. But secondly, you’ll soon learn that our parents are true believers in second chances. Each of them had harrowing early years in life. They each were married before and widowed. My mother was told she could never have a child, and an accident had left my father crippled. But they found each other, and now there are five of us . . . or at least four that she gave birth to.”
Jo laughed happily, holding Grace’s hand.
“All through the years when Hugh was drowning in his grief, my mother said over and over again that the time would come for him too. That he would find happiness. That there was a woman out there who would bring him back to life. Bring life back to Baronsford. She only needed to arrive. And then you did arrive . . . in a crate addressed to him.”
The strings of her heart were singing and Grace closed her eyes, but the bittersweet tears wouldn’t stop. Life could not be so easy. Fate was not trustworthy.
“Our parents will love you. They’ve been waiting for you,” Jo whispered. “We’ve all been waiting.”
Chapter 26
The family preferred to dine early on Sundays to allow the kitchen staff time to themselves, and Jo would have happily taken the discussion of weddings and gowns and flowers into the drawing room for the remainder of the afternoon. When the butler announced that Kane Branson had arrived from Edinburgh and was waiting in the study, Grace asked to join Hugh for she wanted to share information from a particular case she’d found.
“M’lord,” the law clerk said, rising from a table by the window as they entered the room. “I have the testimony.”
Grace watched as the young man produced a packet of documents.
“Tell us what you’ve learned.”
“When I arrived in Edinburgh, I went directly to Mr. Kinniburgh’s school in Chessels Court, as you directed. He could not have been kinder, sir, when he heard your name.”
“He’s a good man,” Hugh said. “Proceed.”
“Immediately, he canceled all his appointments and accompanied me to the Bridewell on Calton Hill. We had some difficulty there. They needed to send to the warden’s house for the man, but eventually we all were situated in his office where Mr. Kinniburgh translated your questions and Mrs. Campbell’s answers—which was a wee bit like some dismal harlequinade pantomime—and the warden served as witness.”
“Excellent,” Hugh encouraged. “What did she communicate to you?”
“What we learned earlier about her husband was correct, though some question remains about whether they were legally married. He deserted her and their three children in Glasgow not a week before the event on the bridge. She reluctantly confirmed the neighbors’ account that after a bout of drunkenness, the villain gave her a thrashing and lit out. He hasn’t been seen since, though a neighbor believes he shipped out on a merchant ship bound for the Indies.”
The blackguard, Grace thought. Like a snake, slithering away from his responsibilities to his family.
“The day of the child’s death,” he continued, “Mrs. Campbell was crossing the Saltmarket Bridge on her way home to her children. One of them was with her. Three years of age he was. The lad had grown weary from the long walk, and some time before she’d strapped him on her back.”
“A three-year-old can be a handful,” Grace said. She’d seen women escaping war-torn areas with young children strapped to their backs.
“Mr. Kinniburgh offered her a handkerchief to represent the child. She showed us how she’d been carrying him, using her shawl as a sling and holding the ends tight against her chest. Mrs. Campbell told us that when they reached the bridge, she rested for a moment, leaning back against the battlements. A chestnut dealer was not far off, and the lad began to squirm and point that he was hungry.”
Grace felt her insides go cold, knowing how this would end.
