Not a ringing endorsement at all, and Abbie was disappointed. What did she expect, her daughter to claim him as her father after only a few days? How unrealistic. “No one is forcing you.”
Megan sniffed. “I was not given a choice to meet his family. You made me go.”
Well, she had her there. Abbie did not wish to tell her daughter it was mostly to have her focus on something else besides Jonas. She couldn’t relay that fact, what with the man in the room drinking tea with them. Megan’s approval of Garrett was of paramount importance if Abbie was to have a future with him. It was an immense if.
Abbie accepted the tea from Alberta. If she did decide to reconcile with him, it would mean a major upheaval to their lives. Leaving Standon and the only home that Megan had ever known. Abbie was wise to suggest that they keep their budding relationship slow and secret.
“I like Garrett,” Jonas stated as he reached for a biscuit. “He helps people. He’s helping us by paying for supplies.”
“True. We are on a fixed income,” Alberta stated. “I know talking about finances is frowned upon, but there is no possible way I could afford to renovate this place entirely out of pocket. I argued, but to no avail. Garrett has contributed lumber and labor. When I protested further, he stated that I was giving a number of his tenants much needed work. How could I say no?” Alberta sipped her tea. “The entire family is generous to a fault.”
Alberta’s statement made Abbie admire Garrett all the more. If only Megan would take the words to heart.
The large landau arrived promptly at thirty minutes past seven. Once they were all seated, the carriage departed, and Abbie was filled with anticipation at seeing Garrett. She wore a sapphire blue gown with an off-the-shoulder style, the neckline trimmed with three layers of lace. There would be no crinolines for her, not only for the cost, but because Abbie did not care for the current style. Instead, she used several layers of petticoats to emphasize the wideness of the full skirt.
Though the gown was more than adequate for a Standon event, it hardly suited for dinner at an earl and viscount’s estate. Alberta’s silver gown was of a similar style. On the seat opposite was Jonas, looking rather stunning in a black suit and a snow-white cravat. Megan kept giving him clandestine glances. Garrett had informed her of the conversation he and his brother, Julian, had with Jonas. She could only hope that the young man would keep the promises he’d made to Garrett and Julian.
Megan wore a new purchase: her first gown that hung to her ankles. Another sign her daughter was growing up. Pale green in color, it accentuated the emerald in her hazel eyes and showed her crowning glory of red hair to perfection. She still wore her hair down to show she wasn’t completely mature. But she and Alberta had styled it attractively, using a pearl hair comb to hold the locks of her thick hair in place.
When they arrived a phalanx of footmen assisted them from the carriage while Martin, the butler, welcomed them. Once their cloaks and capes were taken, they were all shown into a room Abbie did not recognize.
The formal parlor had three crystal chandeliers, and Abbie smiled at the bright illumination. Gas lighting was not to be found in Standon yet. The walls were gold, the velvet curtains red, and in the far corner, tables and chairs were set up for cards and the like. Enhancing the elegance of the room was the expert workmanship of the cornices and moldings.
After the earl and viscount stepped forward to greet everyone, Abbie found she was alone with Viscount Tensbridge. “Where is Garrett?” she asked.
“My valet is assisting him. By their own choice, he and my sons do not have their own, so we share for dinners and such.”
Here lay the perfect opportunity to converse about his son. “Speaking of sons, my lord, Garrett has asked me to speak to you regarding Aidan.”
Tensbridge clasped her elbow and pulled her farther away from the others. “You have news?”
She stared up into his worried eyes; the pain was plain to see. “He is doing as well as can be expected, my lord. Allow me to explain about the sanatorium. My late husband started the clinic years ago, and when he passed his friend and colleague, Dr. Gethin Bevan, decided to continue his work. They had been friends since their boyhoods in Wales, attended Cambridge together, and decided on Standon, of all places, because of the privacy and peace such a community could afford.” She smiled. “Also for the fact the Knights Hospitallers lived and worked in the area in the fourteenth century. My husband wished to carry on the tradition of helping others in need.”
“Very worthy; I admire him for it. And Dr. Bevan.”
“The point I am making is both were made members of good standing in the College of Physicians. Well qualified and professional. Dr. Bevan believes as fervently as my late husband in the facets of addiction and how to treat it humanely. For they believe it is a disease, not a result of weakness or a bad habit.” She laid her gloved hand on Tensbridge’s arm. “I was there during the first few days of Aidan’s treatment, my lord. Since Elwyn passed I often volunteer, and have learned much about the condition.”
“Tell me everything. Hold nothing back.”
Abbie did as he asked, relating the symptoms of withdrawal: the nightmares, the tremors, and the sickness. As she described his physical condition, the pain in the viscount’s eyes increased. “The good news, my lord, is that he’s through the worst of it. Now comes the difficult part, recovery and staying sober. He will need fresh air, exercise, and a proper diet. Those aspects alone will take months. He will also have to come to terms with everything that has happened. Learn to respect himself once again. Dr. Bevan and his daughter, Cristyn, will ensure he receives thorough and compassionate care.”
The viscount laid his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me this. It has helped. Please call me Tensbridge, I cannot abide all this ‘my lord’ business.”
“Of course I will.” She smiled warmly.
“Also, thank you for introducing us to Megan. I look forward to getting to know you both better. You are a welcome addition to the family.”
“How very kind, I…” The words died in her throat, for Garrett had walked into the room. He wore a red kilt, sash, and an accompanying black dinner jacket and vest, along with matching hose and black shoes. His long hair was tied back, revealing his handsome face to perfection. A smile crept across her lips as he headed toward her. It was as if he stepped out of a Scottish castle. He took her breath away.
Garrett took her gloved hand and kissed it. “Good evening, lassie.”
She laughed at his sensual Scottish burr as warmth moved through her. He looked every inch a Highlander. How utterly appealing—and arousing.
“Quite the entrance, Brother.” Julian slapped him on the back. “Excuse me as I see to our other guests.”
Neither she nor Garrett acknowledged his departure, for he still held her hand as they stared in each other’s eyes. “The tartan is Mackinnon, my mother’s clan,” he said as he kissed her hand once more before releasing it.
“How handsome you look in it.” She leaned in and whispered, “I would love it if some evening you wore the kilt and nothing else.”
Garrett moaned softly. “Naughty woman. You’re tempting me to show you how much your words have…excited me.”
She dare not look down. Instead she glanced about the room to find that they had become figures of interest to everyone else. So much for keeping their mutual attraction concealed.
Garrett murmured, “For you? I will wear the kilt and nothing else.” Louder he said, “Shall we join the others?”
He held out his arm and she took it as they walked toward the group. Megan was frowning, and Abbie fought not to roll her eyes in response. What now? As drinks were served—Megan was given sparkling cider—polite conversation broke out and Abbie took the opportunity to pull Megan aside. “What is wrong?” she whispered to her daughter.
“Nothing, Mama,” she replied in a flat, emotionless voice.
She knew her daughter too well. “You did not like the way we were looking at each other, did you?” Megan’s lips pursed in response. “I have every right to live my life the way I wish, as you have pointed out to me more than once. Your papa is gone, my dear. I mourn him still. But I will not deny having feelings for another man. Have I asked you to deny yours for Jonas? As inappropriate as they are at this time of your life.”
Megan blinked. “No, Mama.”
“Perhaps you believe my attraction to Garrett is inappropriate.”
Megan shrugged, then gave a slight nod.
“I will not be rushing into anything. I will remain circumspect in my dealings with Garrett, as we have much to discuss. But I also will not deny that I still harbor deep feelings for him. Nor will I deny that I am somewhat frightened by those intense emotions.” Abbie paused. Should she be bearing her soul to her daughter like this?
Yes. She had to make Megan understand that relationships between men and women were fraught with myriad complications such as overwhelming passion and crippling doubt. “This is all part and parcel of falling for a man who brings his own fears and desires into the mix. It can be entirely messy and exhilarating. Bear with me as I come to terms with this uncertain situation. Be patient if I act impulsively or out of character. Allow me the courtesy to live my life as I see fit.” She took her daughter’s hand and spoke in a soft tone. “Garrett is a good man. Permit yourself to like him. Even a little bit. He is not replacing your papa; he never could. I know it as well as he. But life does march on, despite the fact that we miss those no longer with us.”