Cadoc was eager to change the subject. The more he dwelt on Jessamine Wainwright, the more he was distracted. “Have you conveyed the news to Davy and Ella yet?”
“I haven’t. I thought we could break it to them together over supper tonight. I’ve made their favorite - rabbit stew and dumplings.”
Cadoc grimaced. He would never tell his sister, but somehow the thought of consuming something that had once beenfrolicking through the meadow in all its fluffy glory, turned his appetite. “Yes, we’ll tell them together.”
When Davy and Ella were halfway through their second bowls, Cadoc decided it was as good a time as any to let them know about their mother’s decision. He cleared his throat. Perhaps the best way to share the news was quickly. “Davy and Ella,” he began in a brusque tone. “Yout Aunt Caris and I recently received a letter from your mother.”
Davy frowned and laid his spoon on the table. “She never writes to us,” he complained.
Ella looked down into her bowl, her expression unreadable. “I don’t think she remembers us, Davy,” she quietly said.
“I don’t think that’s true, children,” Caris reassured them.
“Then why hasn’t she sent for us?”
Cadoc understood his nephew’s belligerence. It stemmed from his hurt and feelings of abandonment. The lad had been nine when Gwyn had left with her husband. Old enough to understand his parents were leaving him behind because they thought he would be a burden.
“She and your father haven’t been able to provide you with a stable home. She knew if you stayed with us you’d be taken care of.”
“But we miss them,” Ella wailed.
“We know you do, poppet,” Caris laid a hand on her hair to soothe her.
“So what was the letter about? Do they finally want us to come live with them?”
Cadoc steepled his hands together in front of him and leaned forward. “Not precisely.”
Davy’s face darkened. “She doesn’t want us anymore.”
The boy was correct in principle. “Your parents are making their way to the Yukon Territory. It is an inhospitable landscape and they think you’ll be better off remaining here with your aunt and I.”
“So I was right,” Davy grumbled into his soup.
“She believes she’s making the best decision for your future. You have the opportunity for an education and more hopeful prospects here.”
“What about me? Very few girls are permitted to attend university. Miss Wainwright says she doesn’t think that will change until we have the right to vote.”
“Miss Wainwright is correct. But you’ve shown promise in your studies, Ella, and you have a lively mind. Do you want to go to university?” Cadoc would use his money and influence to grease the wheels if Ella wanted to pursue her studies.
Ella primly clasped her hands in her lap and lifted her chin. “I think I should like to.”
“Then we shall do all we can to ensure you can,” Caris said in a brisk tone.
“Will the two of you be alright?” Davy had a thunderous look on his face and was still staring into his bowl.
“I didn’t want to go anyway. America’s full of nothing but bears.”
The boy’s hurt was seeping into his words. Cadoc stood and rounded the table so he could lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s perfectly normal to feel the way you’re feeling, lad. I know you were excited about the journey across the ocean. And perhaps awed at the prospect of seeing actual cowboys. When your parents are settled in one place, your aunt and I will take you to visit them.”
“Promise?” Davy hoarsely asked.
“I promise. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you see them again.”
“Thank you, Uncle Cadoc.” Ella said in an unnaturally high voice. As if she was holding back the tears as well.
After he and Caris had put them to bed, they met in the library. He poured them both a robust splash of whisky and leaned back in the chair before the fire. He held his glass out. “A toast to that chore being over.”
She clinked her glass to his and leaned back in the opposite chair. “They took the news much better than I thought they would,” she said.
