He could find a new position if he had to. But if it came to that, would Sarah be willing to give up her home and family and go with him?
He looked Peter in the eye. “You should not go on meeting in secret. If you’re sincere, go to Mr. Lawrence and ask for permission to court Ann openly.”
“I can’t do that! I’d lose my job.”
Ann gasped, and tears flooded her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ann. I do care for you, but I can’t go to Mr. Lawrence.”
“But I thought you loved me.”
“I do … but I can’t risk losing my position and being sent off without a reference. I’ve only been here a short time. My dad would never let me come home. He’d disown me if I lost this job.”
“Oh, Peter!” Ann burst into tears and ran back toward the house.
Clark’s spirit sank as he watched her jerk open the back door and duck inside.
Peter glared at Clark. “Now look what you’ve done! Why couldn’t you leave us alone?”
“Because it’s not right. If you’re not planning to marry the girl, then you ought not to be leading her on.”
Peter took a step toward Clark, his eyes blazing. “I’ve had enough of your pious talk.” He jabbed his finger into Clark’s chest. “You’ve no right to say anything to me. I know what you’ve been up to with Sarah Ramsey. She might be a cripple, but she’s—”
Clark grabbed his shirt and yanked him up. “Don’t you dare say another word about Miss Ramsey!” He gave the boy a fierce shake. “Do you hear me?”
“Put me down!”
Clark released him and sent him scrambling back. “If you say anything to anyone about me and Miss Ramsey, you’ll regret it.”
“You’re in no position to be making threats.” Peter turned and stormed off toward the stables.
Clark closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. If Peter Gates knew their secret, how long before Sir William found out?
William peered through the windshield and guided his car down the narrow lane. It was barely wide enough for them to get by, but he had come this far and he would deliver Miss Foster safely to her door.
She leaned forward. “My parent’s cottage is just up ahead on the left.”
He rolled to a stop in front of the thatched-roof home with whitewashed walls and neat black shutters. Soft light glowed in the two front windows, issuing a warm welcome.
Miss Foster reached for her satchel at her feet.
“Let me get the door for you.” He left the motor running while he circled the car and opened her door. “I’ll drive on and find somewhere to park. I don’t want to block the lane.” He offered her his hand.
She took it and climbed out. But rather than turning toward the house, she looked up at him. She tightened her gloved fingers around his. “Thank you, sir. Thank you for bringing me home.”
He stood very still, gazing down at her. Silvery moonlight highlighted the soft curve or her cheek and the slight dip above her full, upper lip. He swallowed and forced himself to focus on her eyes again. “It’s no trouble at all. My only regret is that it could not be for a happier occasion.”
She shivered and slipped her hand from his. Her blue wool scarf had come unwrapped. He reached out and gently tucked an end around her neck and over her shoulder. “Now, hurry inside before you freeze.”
“Yes sir.” She sent him a brave smile, then walked toward the house. When she reached the door, she stopped and looked over her shoulder.
The sweetness of her expression moved him in ways he didn’t understand. He nodded to her and walked back to the car.
Had that been affection he had seen reflected in her eyes, or simply gratitude? He shook off the question. Surely it was just the emotion of the evening stirring them both in unusual ways.
He must not think there was anything more to it. The inclination to trust his feelings had cost him dearly in the past, and he did not wish to travel that painful path again. But this time it was not Miss Foster whom he feared could not be trusted—it was more his own failures as a husband and father that made him hesitate. His skills in family relationships were definitely lacking. Miss Foster herself had said as much.
No, he must not consider the possibility of anything more than friendship with Miss Foster.
A few minutes later, with the car safely parked at the end of the lane, he knocked on the cottage front door and waited with his hat in his hands.
Julia answered and ushered him inside. He glanced around the cozy kitchen and parlor, where flames crackled and glowed in a stone fireplace. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile approached from the parlor. She wore a simple dark blue dress and looked very much like an older version of Julia.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Sir William Ramsey, baronet of Highland Hall. Sir William, this is my mother, Mary Foster.”
Mrs. Foster sent him a bittersweet smile and offered him her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Sir William.”
“The pleasure is mine. Your daughter has spoken very highly of both you and your husband.”
“Thank you for bringing Julia home. It will be a great comfort to have her here, even for a short time.”
“She may stay as long as you need her.”
Mrs. Foster’s serene expression faltered. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to keep her from her duties at Highland.”
“We have come to rely on her, but there’s no need to make a decision about that tonight. How is Dr. Foster?”
Tears glittered in Mrs. Foster’s eyes. “He has a fever and troubled breathing as well as a terrible cough. I’m afraid he seems to be fading. I wasn’t sure about contacting my son and Julia, but as I prayed about it, I felt the Lord impress that need on my heart.”
He nodded. “Would you like me to send for our physician, Dr. Matthew Hadley? He happens to be having dinner at Highland this evening. I’d be happy to drive back and take the message myself.”
Mrs. Foster glanced at Julia and then turned back to him. “Thank you, Sir William. We would appreciate that very much.”
“I’m glad to do it, and I insist on paying the fee for his visit.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Excuse me.” Mrs. Foster stepped away.
“Thank you,” Julia said softly. “We’re indebted to you for your kindness.”
Mrs. Foster pulled open the door and gasped. “Bea? Oh my goodness, is it really you?”
William and Julia turned toward the door.
“Yes, my dearest Mary, it is!”
The two women embraced, and Mrs. Foster welcomed her visitor into the house. She turned to William and Julia. “Bea, this is Sir William Ramsey, baronet of Highland Hall, and this is my daughter, Julia.” Mrs. Foster clasped Bea’s hand. “Julia, this is my sister Beatrice, Lady Danforth.”
Julia lifted her hand to her mouth. “Aunt Beatrice? Oh, how wonderful to finally meet you.”
William nodded. “Lady Danforth.” She looked slightly familiar, but he couldn’t remember where or when they’d met. Mrs. Foster and her sister were obviously very fond of each other. Why hadn’t Julia met her aunt before? But his questions would have to wait until another time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off to fetch the doctor.”
Mary Foster extended her hand to William. “Thank you again, Sir William. We’re very grateful for your kind assistance.”
“You’re most welcome.” He turned to Julia. “Please send word and let us know how your father is doing tomorrow.”
Julia nodded. “I will.”
“Good night.” He nodded to the other women, replaced his hat, and walked out the door.
The cool evening air chilled his face as he stepped off the small front porch and followed the moonlit path back to the car. Though the reason for his visit to the Fosters’ home was not a happy one, he had been impressed by his time there. As soon as he had stepped through the door, he’d sensed the kind affection and warm family ties enjoyed by the Foster family.
&
nbsp; How very different from his home in London, where strict rules and cool detachment were always the order of the day. He had spent very little time with his parents. His father traveled for months at a time on business, and his mother had given over his care to nannies and nursery maids, then tutors. How different his life might have been if his family had been close and loving like the Fosters.
Soft morning light streamed through the curtains of Julia’s parents’ bedroom. Julia yawned and stretched, then rubbed her tired shoulders. She had watched over her father since midnight, when she had finally convinced her mother to go and lie down for a few hours. For Julia, it had been a long night filled with tears and prayers, but with the new day had come acceptance and peace. She prayed God’s grace would carry them through whatever lay ahead.
She rose from her chair at her father’s bedside and scanned his face, searching for any signs of change. His cough and difficulty breathing had made it a restless night for him, but the last few hours he had seemed to sleep more peacefully, giving her renewed hope.
Her father slowly opened his eyes. “Morning, daughter.” His voice was no more than a soft whisper, but it filled her heart with joy.
“Oh, Father.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“I didn’t know you’d come.”
His comment jolted her, since she had spoken to him several times during the night. She supposed the illness was causing his confusion. “I arrived last evening. Sir William brought me in his motorcar.”
“Sounds exciting.”
Julia smiled. “It was. I only wish we had come in the daylight. I would’ve loved to see the countryside speeding past.”
He slowly reached for her hand. “It’s good to have you here.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Thank you, Father. It’s good to be home.”
His smile faded as he searched her face. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine. Please, don’t worry about me.”
“I’m always concerned about you. I am your father.” Fondness filled his eyes.
Her throat tightened, and she forced a smile for his sake. “And I am grateful for your concern. Now let me go and tell Mother you’re awake.” She started to pull away.
“Wait … There’s something I must say.”
She sat by his bedside again and tried to swallow away the lump lodged in her throat, but it was useless.
“I know you feel a responsibility to stay in England and watch out for your mother and me.”
She gave a slight nod. “We’re family. Love binds us together.”
“Well said. But we do not want to be a burden to you.”
“Please don’t say such a thing. You are not a burden.”
“Nor do we want to keep you from God’s calling.”
Julia sighed. “I am sure God’s calling for me today is to spend time here, with you and Mother.”
“Yes, and I am grateful you’ve come. But when I’m gone, you and Mother must return to India and continue our work.”
“Father, please, don’t—”
He gripped her hand more tightly. “I’m not afraid to speak of my death. It opens the doorway to my heavenly home and the reward Christ has won for me.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she reached for his hand again.
“I have followed the Lord faithfully for over fifty years, and I intend to remain faithful to Him until the end.”
She leaned down and laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Father.” It was all she could manage to say as her tears overflowed and coursed down her cheeks.
FOURTEEN
William pushed his breakfast plate away with a heavy sigh and stared out the dining-room window. A gray gloom seemed to have settled over the house since the calendar had turned to December. The days had grown shorter and the weather less agreeable. That must be the reason for his sagging spirits.
Lawrence entered the room carrying a small silver tray. “The morning post, sir.”
“Thank you.” William took the letter opener and three envelopes from the tray. He quickly scanned the return address of the first, and his stomach tensed.
Sarah set her teacup aside. “Who is it from, William?”
“Bixby, my solicitor.” He put the letter aside to open last, since he was in no mood to read more about death duties or other legal affairs. He slit the second envelope and quickly scanned the brief paragraph. “This is from Mr. Henshaw.”
“The art dealer you told me about?”
“Yes, he says he can take the train from London on the eighteenth to do the appraisal.”
Sarah nodded. “And the final letter?”
William opened the third envelope. “This one is from David.”
Sarah’s eyes lit up at the mention of their younger brother. “Perhaps he’s responding to our invitation to join us for Christmas.”
William glanced at the first few sentences. “He says he’ll arrive on the twenty-first and stay through the New Year.” William shifted in his chair and read the rest of the brief letter, but it failed to lift his spirits.
He and David had never been close, at least not as close as William had been to Nathaniel. The four-year age difference between David and William may have been part of the reason. There were only two years between him and Nathaniel. David was eight when William had been sent away to school, so most of their childhood had been spent apart. As they grew older, a subtle rivalry developed between them, mainly spurred on by David’s desire to prove that he was stronger, smarter, and more talented than William.
Buying out William’s interest in the family business had been a boost to David’s ego. But in his brother’s eyes, it still didn’t make up for the fact that William had been the one to inherit the title of baronet and Highland.
“I’m glad David is coming.” Sarah sent William a pointed look. “It’s important to be with family at Christmastime.”
“Yes … I suppose that’s true.” He set his brother’s letter aside and stared toward the window again.
“Really, William, I don’t see why that should make you scowl.”
“What?” He squinted across the table at Sarah. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking of David. I was wondering why Miss Foster hasn’t written.”
His sister tipped her head. “We just received her letter on Wednesday.”
“But she’s been gone more than a week!”
“You’re the one who told her she might stay as long as she was needed.”
He huffed. “I had no idea she would stay away this long. And now that her father is improving, I thought she would set a date for her return.”
She sent him a puzzled look. “I’m sure the children miss her, but they seem to be doing well.”
“They are missing out on their schooling, and Andrew was caught in the pantry yesterday, helping himself to a slice of apple tart.”
Sarah grinned. “I can see why he was tempted. That’s my favorite as well. Why don’t we invite the children to have luncheon with us? It would be a nice treat for them, and I’m sure the nursery maid would appreciate the break.”
He nodded, still frowning. “I suppose.”
“And after that, perhaps I should go to the village and visit the Fosters.”
William straightened. “Yes. That’s a splendid idea. And while you’re there you can urge Miss Foster to return to Highland as soon as possible.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind. I’ll take them some provisions and let them know how relieved we are to hear that Dr. Foster is improving.”
“Of course. That’s what I meant. But if the opportunity presents itself, you might let her know we are anxious for her return.”
Sarah’s eyes glowed. “All right. I’ll tell her, but only if I can do it without making her overly concerned about the children.”
“Yes, of course.” William tapped his finger on the table. Sarah was very tender-hearted and not likely to urge Miss Foster to leave her family any time soon. If he wanted that message delivered, he would have t
o do it himself. He laid his napkin on the table. “I have an idea. Why don’t I drive you to the village, and we can both visit the Fosters?”
She rose from her chair. “That would be nice, but you must promise not to make Julia feel guilty for staying with her family.”
“I shall be the perfect gentleman.” William stood. “Oh, wait. Dalton asked to meet with me this afternoon.”
Sarah froze and gripped the back of the chair. “Mr. Dalton?” Her voice had suddenly gone light and breathless.
“Yes, he said something about discussing plans for the future. I certainly hope he’s not planning to leave us. I rather like the man. He seems to have a sensible head on his shoulders, and I don’t—” William stopped and studied his sister. “Sarah, are you all right?”
“Yes … I’m just feeling a little lightheaded. Perhaps I should go lie down.”
“By all means. And if you’re not up to visiting the Fosters, I can go on my own.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“All right.” He stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “You do look pale. Shall I send for Mrs. Emmitt?”
“No. Please don’t bother her.” She turned away.
William watched her go, his thoughts even more unsettled than they had been at the beginning of the meal. Something was definitely wrong. Sarah had not been herself lately. He hoped she wasn’t seriously ill.
But if that were the case, he would take care of her. He had always watched out for her. Even when they were young children, he made sure no one taunted her about her limp or hand. And Sarah had always looked up to him and depended on him. They were as close as any brother and sister could be—or at least they had been until they’d come to Highland.
Sarah hurried down the backstairs and slipped past the kitchen. She could hear Chef Lagarde scolding one of the kitchen maids, first in English and then in French. The translation flew through her mind and sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. Poor girl. She hoped the maid did not speak French.
Mr. Lawrence stepped around the corner. “Miss Ramsey, is there something I can do for you?”
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