Gabe accepted the album, but didn’t look at it, setting it aside instead. Keeping his nervousness in check was hard enough without looking at baby snaps of Emma with her mother. Seeing them together, happy and utterly unaware of what was in store for them both, would probably undo him on the spot. Mr. Lennox clearly anticipated Gabe’s reaction because he continued without pause, moving on to the next order of business.
“Dr. Russell, I hadn’t mentioned this on the telephone, but there’s something else we need to discuss. After Emma was born, Jenna made a new Will and Testament. Her husband left her very comfortably off, and she had several investments and properties of her own, which she inherited from her father, who was divorced from her mother at the time of his death. Jenna left everything to you.”
“What? Why would she do that? She hardly knew me,” Gabe replied, earning himself a stern look from Mr. Lennox. Jenna clearly knew him well enough to have a child with him, the look said very eloquently, so Gabe’s sentiments were unworthy. They diminished the relationship and made Jenna’s judgment appear less than sound.
“Jenna had no close relatives besides her mother, who is now deceased, and she probably wished for you to keep the legacy in trust for Emma.”
“Did she create a trust?” Gabe asked.
“No. She left it to your discretion. The most valuable asset is Jenna’s house here in Edinburgh. The mortgage is fully paid off, so you needn’t worry about making payments. You can put the house on the market, if you wish, or you can let it to tenants. I can make the arrangements for you, if you are so inclined. There’s no rush to make any decisions. I don’t suppose you’d consider moving to Edinburgh?” Mr. Lennox asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Ah, no. My life is in London, Mr. Lennox.”
“Of course. Just a thought. We have several fine institutions that could benefit from your expertise, and yours, of course, Dr. Allenby.” Mr. Lennox included Quinn in his smile before returning to the documents spread out before him, leafing through the pages.
“Mr. Lennox, if we are finished here…” Gabe muttered.
“Of course, of course. You’re eager to meet Emma. I just need your signature here and here, and we are done.”
“Kelly, if you’ll just close up for the night,” Mr. Lennox called out to his assistant as he locked away the file, handed Gabe his copies, and reached for his briefcase, ready to leave. “It’s just upstairs. Very convenient, having an office so close to home. No commute,” he joked as he led the way.
Gabe and Quinn followed Mr. Lennox up the stairs. A delicious smell wafted from beneath the door. Mr. Lennox inhaled deeply and smiled. “Mari made shepherd’s pie. I do hope you’ll join us for supper. You must be hungry after the long drive.”
“Thank you,” Quinn replied, seeing as Gabe was incapable of speech. His eyes were glued to the door, which opened at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
“There you are. Come in,” Mari Lennox exclaimed, opening the door wider to let them in. “Emma and I have been waiting for you, haven’t we, pet?”
Emma, who was sitting on the floor, carefully set down the piece of Lego she was holding and looked up at the two strangers who were staring at her in silent awe. She seemed a bit frightened, her eyes huge in her face as she regarded them solemnly. She looked just as she did in the picture, only more vulnerable somehow.
“Won’t you say hello, love?” Mrs. Lennox prompted.
“Hello,” Emma whispered.
“Hello, Emma. My name is Quinn, and this is Gabe,” Quinn said since Gabe remained mute. “We came all the way from London to see you.”
“Do you know the Queen?” Emma asked.
“Not personally, but I hear she’s quite nice,” Quinn replied. She elbowed Gabe in the ribs, in an effort to get him to speak.
“What are you building?” Gabe asked. His voice sounded shaky, but he managed a quivering smile.
“It’s a castle with a tower,” Emma replied proudly.
“Is the tower to watch for the enemy?” Gabe asked, taking a step closer.
“No, it’s for the princess. It’s got the best view,” Emma explained, pointing to something just in front of the castle. It was hard to tell what it was since there was a pile of small pieces of different colors littering the carpet.
“Right. Of course. Great view,” Gabe mumbled, making Mrs. Lennox guffaw with laughter.
“Is there a prince?” Gabe tried again.
“Well, of course there is. Who else is going to rescue the princess?” Emma asked matter-of-factly. She held up the plastic prince in one hand and the princess in the other. “They are going to kiss,” she announced and demonstrated, making a loud “mwah” sound.
“Are they in love then?” Gabe asked, warming up to the subject.
“Yes, but they haven’t met yet. The prince has to kiss the princess to wake her from a sleeping spell.”
“Right, silly me,” Gabe replied with a smile. Emma was talking to him, which was a step in the right direction.
“Mari made shepherd’s pie,” she announced. “My grandma used to make it sometimes. She died,” Emma whispered. Her mood changed dramatically, her eyes filling with tears at the mention of her grandmother. “I miss my mum,” she said.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Quinn said, stepping in. “Gabe used to know your mum.”
“Did you?” Emma asked, looking at Gabe with new interest. “Did you love her?”
“Yes,” Gabe answered without a moment’s hesitation. “I loved her very much.”
“Did she tell you about me?”
“I’m sure she meant to, but we hadn’t spoken in a long time. She was very busy.”
Emma nodded wisely, as if she understood how busy grown-ups could be. “I’m hungry,” she said.
“Let’s wash your hands, pet. Quinn and Gabe will join us for tea. What do you think of that?” Mrs. Lennox asked, her tone jovial. Emma shrugged, as if she didn’t care one way or the other.
Quinn risked a peek at Gabe. His eyes followed Emma, and Quinn could see the beginnings of panic in his gaze. Emma had no idea that he was her father, nor would she simply go off with them without a second thought. She felt safe and comfortable with Mari Lennox, which was saying a lot of a child who’d just lost her two closest family members.
“Have you got a place to stay for the night?” Mrs. Lennox asked when she returned and settled Emma at the table. Mr. Lennox had mentioned that they could stay in Jenna McAllister’s house since it now belonged to Gabe, but they’d declined.
“Yes, we booked a room,” Quinn replied as she took a seat opposite Emma, who was watching her intently.
“I think Emma will need a few days,” Mari said quietly as she served Emma and poured her a glass of milk.
“A few days for what?” Emma asked as she lifted a fork to her mouth.
“A few days to make friends with Quinn and Gabe,” Alastair Lennox chimed in.
“They are too old to be my friends. Besides, I already have friends. I want to go back to school. I miss Lucy, and I miss my room. I want to go home,” Emma added sulkily.
“Will you have that drink now?” Alastair asked as he surveyed Gabe’s look of dismay.
“Yes, I think I will.”
**
Quinn felt overwhelming sympathy for Gabe as he tossed his coat over a chair, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed on the bed with a groan of misery. “That went well,” he mumbled as Quinn snuggled next to him. The meeting with Emma hadn’t been a resounding success, but it hadn’t gone badly, in her opinion, and she intended to talk Gabe out of his sour mood.
“Come now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Quinn said, but tempered her words with a tender kiss so as not to hurt Gabe’s feelings. “That went as well as could be expected. Did you think that Emma would throw herself into your arms and call you ‘Daddy’? She’s never set eyes on you before. Give her time. Make friends with the princess and learn to build Lego castles — that’s what dads do. She�
��ll come around. Perhaps we should stop by Jenna’s house and pick up some of Emma’s things for her new room. She’ll want her things around her. I actually think that putting a framed picture of her mother in her bedroom would be a nice idea.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Gabe replied, already feeling better. He’d never been one for sulking, and having something to focus on helped him feel a bit more in control of the situation. “Perhaps one of the pictures from the photo album, or maybe there’s already a good photo at the house. We’ll have a look tomorrow. Do you think it would be a good idea to bring Emma with us?”
“No, it might be painful for her, but maybe we should take her to the nursery school and let her spend some time with her friends. She’s been cooped up with Mari since Jenna died, and it can’t have been much fun for her.”
Gabe nodded. “I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about children. Perhaps we should start one of our own. Right now!” Quinn giggled as Gabe rolled on top of her and pinned down her wrists, kissing her tenderly. He was still smiling, but she could see a shadow of desire in his eyes as the kiss turned more passionate. Quinn wrapped her legs around Gabe’s waist and kissed him back, glad that he was in better spirits.
“Maybe not at this very minute, but you can never have too much practice,” she said when Gabe finally came up for air. “I think one child at a time is a good plan.”
Chapter 14
January 1347
Dunwich, Suffolk
Petra crept up the stairs, careful not to disturb Lady Blythe, who’d fallen asleep by the fire, and opened the window on the landing. There wasn’t much of a view from the ground floor since all there was to see were other houses, but the upper floor offered a vista of the harbor and the sea beyond. Petra inhaled the frigid, salty air and surveyed the scene. The sea was calm today, the smooth surface sparkling in the weak winter sunshine as seagulls screamed and swooped to catch their prey, coming back up with thrashing fish in their beaks. Several ships were in port, their sails furled and the masts piercing the sky like blunt swords. There wasn’t as much activity since many ships stopped sailing during the winter due to gales and fear of sinking, but there was still something to see.
Petra turned her head to the left and craned her neck to see if anyone was still in the square. It was market day, and although it would grow dark soon, there were still vendors in the square, taking advantage of the last hour of daylight to sell their wares. Many merchants had already gone, having sold their goods early on. Foodstuffs tended to sell earlier in the day than trinkets, cloth, and tools. Petra wished that she could sneak away and take a walk to the square. She had no desire to buy anything, but she simply wanted to stroll among the stalls, looking at the goods and exchanging a word or two with the merchants who were always eager to engage potential customers in friendly banter. She particularly liked to visit Micah Sills, who worked in bone. Master Sills was a farmer who never let anything go to waste, not even a bit of bone, shaping and carving intricate pieces while he sat by the fire after supper. He sold everything from dice to crosses displayed on strings of leather. Petra liked the chess sets the best. Not many people understood the complicated game, which was said to have been brought to English shores by traders from Spain, but everyone liked to look at the pieces. The tallest pieces were no longer than Petra’s finger, but they were surprisingly lifelike. Kings, queens, and bishops were works of art, each one wearing a unique expression befitting their station. There were rearing horses to represent knights and castle towers, which Master Sills referred to as ‘Rooks.’ Most vendors didn’t permit non-buying patrons to handle the goods, but Micah Sills encouraged people to pick up the pieces and run their fingers over the delicate carvings.
“Makes the bone shine, frequent handing does,” he said as he rubbed the face of a black queen. All the pieces were either white or black, the bone dyed black by using a mixture made of ground oak galls, water, and iron salt solution. The black pieces were beautiful, but Petra liked the white ones best. She thought of them as representing good, while the black pieces represented evil. She wished she knew how to play, but the rules of the game were too complicated even for most men.
Petra heard a noise from downstairs and hastily shut the window. Lady Blythe did not hold with opening the windows and letting in the cold and the smells from outside. She would be angry. Petra tiptoed away from the window and descended to the ground floor, ready to make an excuse for venturing upstairs, but Lady Blythe was still asleep. Petra took her customary seat and studied the old lady. She’d mellowed with age, and where before all Petra saw was a tyrant, what she saw now was a lonely old woman who was on the verge of losing everything she’d worked for. Lady Blythe’s sons still gave their mother a report once a fortnight, but they did this out of respect since their mother was no longer directly involved in any negotiations with buyers or sellers. Lady Blythe knew that they were humoring her, but took the meetings with all seriousness, asking numerous questions and barking orders that her sons would most likely ignore. There were no other social calls. The days were interminable, with Petra arriving just in time to help Lady Blythe dress and make her way to her private chapel, where she spent an hour on her knees praying to the Good Lord. Petra was expected to join in, and she was thankful for the cushioned kneelers, or she would have simply keeled over.
After prayer, Lady Blythe took breakfast with Petra, then, weather permitting, ventured outdoors. For Petra, that was the best hour of the day since she at least got a breath of fresh air and an opportunity to stretch her legs. The rest of the day was spent spinning wool, reading the Scriptures, and, in Lady Blythe’s case, napping. By the time Petra got home in the evening, she was exhausted from boredom and desperate to have a word with Maude and the children before they retired. She reminded herself every night that she must be grateful to Lady Blythe, since Petra’s wages kept the family in food and firewood, but the thought of spending all her time just sitting in near-silence with the old woman nearly made her weep.
There had been only one occasion when Petra found herself trembling with excitement, but it didn’t last long. Father Avery had come to call on Lady Blythe a week ago. Petra’s mouth grew dry with nervousness, and she began to perspire, but she didn’t get a chance to see or speak to the priest. Lady Blythe sent her away and told her to go buy some fish for her supper. Normally, Petra would have been thrilled to leave the house for a bit and wander along the harbor, but she longed to catch a glimpse of Avery. She hadn’t seen him since the day she came to see Lady Blythe, and hoped that they might get a moment to speak privately. But Father Avery was gone by the time Petra returned with the fish, leaving her feeling disappointed and frustrated.
Petra spent the next few days hoping that Father Avery would call again, but he hadn’t been back since. After all, what did Lady Blythe have to confess, sitting by the cozy fire all day and reading passages from the Bible before nodding off for an hour or two? Hardly a life of mortal sin that required weekly absolution. Petra forced a smile onto her face when Lady Blythe finally stirred and sat up straighter in her chair, having woken up. She blinked several times and stared at Petra as if she wasn’t quite sure why the young woman was there.
“Would you like some hippocras, lady?” Petra asked.
“Yes, I’ll take a cup. How long till supper?”
“At least an hour, lady,” Petra replied. Thankfully, Lady Blythe dined early, releasing Petra for the day no later than six.
“What have we today?”
“Boiled mutton and mashed turnips,” Petra replied. Mutton was the old woman’s favorite, and Petra was glad of any meat she could get, not being able to readily afford it for her own household. Petra was grateful to have her meals with Lady Blythe since that made for one less mouth to feed on her wages. Maude purchased some bones and gizzards from the butcher once a week to flavor the stew and supplement the children’s diet of pottage and pease pudding, but couldn’t afford to splurge on a chop or a shank.
Petr
a fetched her employer a cup of hippocras and resumed her seat, hoping the time would go by quickly until they supped. Lady Blythe stared into the fire, her mind far away.
“I’ve asked Father Avery to dine tomorrow,” she suddenly said, startling Petra out of her reverie.
“Will you need me to leave early, lady?”
“No, I’d like for you to join us. You could benefit from some enlightened conversation,” Lady Blythe said, enjoying her role of benefactress.
“Is Father Avery a new parish priest?” Petra asked carefully. She’d attended St. Leonard’s all her life, but there were several other churches in the area, and the parish priests were well known in the community, even if only by sight. A new parish priest was assigned only when the current one died, or was no longer able to perform his duties, but Petra could think of no one who’d lately needed replacing. What was Avery doing in Dunwich?
“Father Avery recently returned from Oxford, where he taught theology for several years after graduating from the seminary. He is a learned and pious man, Petra. A scholar. He’s even been to Rome, where he met the Holy Father himself. It’s an honor to have him in my house.”
“How do you come to know him, lady?” Petra asked, curious as to why such a paragon of scholarly virtue would take the time to visit Lady Blythe. Unless there was a monetary incentive, which was not something most priests were above pursuing.
“Father Avery came to visit me when he returned to Dunwich. He’s originally from these parts, you know. My husband and his father were devoted friends before my Malcolm was taken into God’s embrace. Father Avery is staying at Greyfriars Priory at the present. He tells me that he’s working on a rather difficult translation.”
The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past Book 2) Page 7
