His father chuckled and shook his head, finally looking away from the bird. “I’ve seen my fair share of minor setbacks. I don’t think we will recover in quite the same way with this one.”
“I do wish things could have ended differently.” Jonathan flipped his collar up to guard against the damp wind.
“Time and folly have caught up with me, my boy. The time has come to reap what I sowed. Your mother warned me of such. I’ve been a fool to let it go on this long. Now ’tis time to face the proverbial music.”
The mention of his mother had jerked Jonathan’s head upright. His father almost never mentioned her, and hearing a reference to her pass the man’s lips both pained and comforted Jonathan. It brought to mind dozens of memories of the woman who had been gone for so very long.
His father continued, leaning heavily on the head of his parrot cane. “Even if you had brought home the Bevoy, it was only a matter of time. One cannot erase a lifetime of imprudence with one such action.”
The men stood in silence as the immaculately dressed footmen carried the remnant of the Gilchrist treasures to the carriage one last time.
“I fear this is the end of an era,” remarked his father solemnly.
Jonathan clasped his hand on his father’s shoulder. “But the beginning of another.”
With Tevy bouncing along beside her, Camille walked down the garden steps and over to the small bench her new sister-in-law occupied. Penelope, clad in a blue cloak trimmed with fur, had her back to Kettering Hall, but she turned as Camille and the dog approached.
She wrinkled her nose as Tevy approached her. “I can’t believe you aren’t afraid of that beast.”
Tevy panted from his recent burst of activity, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. Camille bent down and scratched behind the floppy brown ears. “I can see how he might frighten you, but really, he is quite the gentle giant.”
“Gentle giant indeed.” Penelope pulled her hand back as the dog nudged it, begging for attention.
“If you think Tevy is frightening, you would not have cared for Link, our shop cat.”
“I do not see how a cat could be more frightening than a dog.”
“Link was a champion mouser. He had one eye and could be as cantankerous as they come. Sometimes he made Tevy seem like an angel by contrast. But he was my friend, and I loved him.”
“How different your childhood was from mine,” Penelope mused. After a reluctant pause, she gave the dog a single pat on the head with her gloved hand. “You’ll have to come to London to see me, for I think I’ll not return to Fellsworth.”
Camille sank down on the bench beside her. “Never is a long time.”
“How could I return here?” Penelope shook her head, her elegantly arranged curls bouncing about her face. “And not because I care what the villagers say. You know I couldn’t care less about the gossiping and the staring.”
Camille bit her tongue to keep from responding to that statement, supposing the opposite to be true. Instead she gently asked, “Then what would prevent you?”
Penelope lifted her head, the breeze blowing in her blond hair, her deep blue eyes fixed on some distant point in the horizon. “It isn’t my home anymore.”
Camille sat with her for several moments in silence. How she could relate to that feeling of not knowing where she belonged. “But you have your father. He loves you. And of course you have Jonathan and me. You will always have a home, Penelope. Never you fear about that.”
But she knew that was not what Penelope ached to hear. Sadness etched itself in the tiny creases around her sister-in-law’s eyes. A frown formed on her lips, but it was not the pretty pout that Camille had witnessed her employing on several occasions. No coy light lit her eyes. For she had tasted the bitterness of disappointed love.
Camille had never known that particular pain. But she did know what it was to be rejected by a loved one, and her heart ached for the woman sitting next to her.
After a moment’s thought she reached for her brooch. It had been given to her by a family member, intended to encourage her.
Now another family member needed encouragement.
“We are sisters now, are we not?”
Penelope nodded.
“I want you to take this.”
Penelope’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t.”
“I know it is not as fine as what you are used to, but I—”
“No, please do not misunderstand. It is a lovely brooch, a true treasure. But it belongs to you. I cannot take it. Especially after . . .” She faltered, unable to continue.
Camille rubbed her thumb over the smooth metal. She recognized the feeling of fumbling for words, unable to express what she truly felt. An aching heart was an aching heart, regardless of how or why. Even now, in her supreme happiness, she felt a nagging ache, a constant sense of loss.
She extended the brooch to Penelope. “Read the inscription on the back.”
Penelope took the piece and turned it over. “ ‘All things work together for good to them that love the Lord.’ ”
“My grandfather gave it to me when I was young. I never really understood it before, what it meant, but I think I am starting to. One day I shall share with you the extent of my own journey, but there were many times when I felt all was lost and this piece brought me comfort. I hope when you look at it, you will know you are loved. And I believe, in the end, that everything really will work out for the best.”
Tears brimmed Penelope’s eyes, making them appear even brighter and bluer in the afternoon light. “I loved Mr. Dowden. Truly, I did.”
Camille patted Penelope’s gloved hand with her own. “I know you did.”
“But he loved my dowry. He loved Father’s money. Not me.”
“And you shall find someone, a new man, who will love you for you. All will be well, you will see. This move is simply a new adventure.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Mrs. Camille Gilchrist sat in her chair by the fire in her new home, the apothecary’s cottage. Outside a quiet morning snow fell gently on the lanes of Fellsworth, and inside a warm fire crackled and simmered in the fireplace. Tevy, who had grown quite accustomed to long naps, slumbered at her feet. In her hands she held the ledger to her husband’s shop.
It was a task she had no need to perform. Jonathan was quite capable of handling his own professional affairs. And there had been a point in her life when she had thought that if she never saw one more ledger book it would be too soon. But now she found herself wanting to help. Asking to help.
Somehow she had always known she would end up working in a shop. After all, she had spent her entire life preparing for it. But never would she have imagined she would be working alongside her husband—someone who loved and cherished her, who valued her opinions and contributions and praised her.
The door opened, and Jonathan shook the snow off his coat before stepping through the door that led from the shop.
“Good day, Mrs. Gilchrist.” A boyish grin flashed, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.
She returned her quill to the holder and stood, unable to prevent the smile that rushed to her own lips. “Good day, Mr. Gilchrist.”
He took off his greatcoat and hung it on the hook next to the door, then removed his hat. “Feels good in here. Getting awfully cold outside.”
He rubbed his hands together before reaching his hand out to her, and she closed the distance. His hand felt cold in her warm one and brought a flutter to her heart.
Jonathan wrapped his arms around her, the scent of cold and snow still clinging to him. As she rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, a peace unlike any she had ever known settled upon her. The image of her grandfather’s watch rushed her, along with the inscription.
All things work together.
It was true what she had told Penelope. For so long the words had not resonated with her. But now as she stood with her husband, happy, content, and peaceful, she began to understand. Every difficult situatio
n, every broken moment, every tear had made her the person she was supposed to become and put her in the arms of the person who would make her complete.
She looked at Jonathan, whose strong character and quiet strength had given her the confidence to open her heart and receive love.
“Welcome home, dearest.” Camille stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Welcome home.”
Acknowledgments
To my husband and daughter—it is because of your love and encouragement that I am able to follow my passion for storytelling. Thank you for sharing this dream with me.
To my parents, Ann and Wayne—through prayer and counsel you have helped me find my path. And to my sisters, Sally and Angie—thank you for always cheering for me.
To my first readers, Ann and Sally—thank you for brainstorming with me and helping me get the story just right!
To my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray—you are not only my agent, but a trusted friend. Thank you for dreaming big!
To my fabulous editor, Becky Monds—thank you for caring so much about my story and for inspiring me. And to the rest of the team at HarperCollins Christian Publishing—from marketing to design, from to production to sales, I am in awe of the work you do!
As a writer, I am blessed to get to work with other writers who share the same passion for story. To my accountability partners, Carrie, Julie, and Melanie—thank you for being such a source for support and encouragement. To my writing “sister” Kim—I am so blessed to call you friend! To the ladies of “The Grove”—Katherine, Kristy, Cara, Katie, Melissa, Courtney, and Beth—thank you for sharing your gifts and inspiring others to tell their stories.
I am so grateful for each and every one of you!
Discussion Questions
1. Which character in this novel do you identify with the most? Why?
2. If you could give Camille one piece of advice, what would it be? What advice would you give Jonathan?
3. What words would you use to describe Penelope? Do you think Penelope influenced Jonathan? What impact does Penelope’s behavior have on Camille?
4. In what ways is Camille different at the end of the novel than she is in the beginning? What does she learn about herself throughout the course of the story?
5. How do you think the fact that Camille’s mother moved out of the country affected Camille? How would Camille be different if her mother had never left?
6. Did Jonathan betray his family by trading the ruby for Camille’s safety? Why or why not?
7. It’s your turn! What comes next for Camille and Jonathan? What would you like to see happen to these characters in the future?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah E. Ladd received the 2011 Genesis Award in historical romance for The Heiress of Winterwood. She is a graduate of Ball State University and has more than ten years of marketing experience. Sarah lives in Indiana with her amazing husband, sweet daughter, and spunky Golden Retriever.
Visit her website at www.sarahladd.com
Facebook: SarahLaddAuthor
Twitter: @SarahLaddAuthor
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