Upstairs, Christopher tugged on his cravat as he walked down the hall to his room that overlooked the garden. As he gazed over the dying flowers below, he couldn’t ignore the scene filling his vision. In the spring, when all the flowers bloomed, the garden was a gorgeous sight. Right now, the garden looked like the status of his life situation—in need of revitalization.
He needed to get his shite in order. The gambling he did day in and day out was obviously not the answer to his problems. The irony wasn’t lost on him in thinking he could solve his gambling problem by gambling.
“Ye’re a fool, Campbell.” He mumbled.
“My Lord?” A servant called from the door, her arms carrying a tray that contained food and a pot of tea.
He shook his head. “’Tis naught. Please,” he stepped forward and gestured to the table. “Thank ye.”
The servant bowed. “Your tub is being filled now and will be available shortly.”
He snagged a piece of cheese and a slice of hard-crusted bread off the plate and nodded. “I thank ye again.”
A good soak was what he needed.
A good meal.
A new mindset.
Tomorrow was a new day and he vowed that he would approach it with a new temperament.
Chapter Two
“Mama, what haveyou done?” Whitney Watkins asked for the third time. “Please, you must tell me.”
Standing in front of the window, her mother wrung her hands as she stared off into the distance. Finally, she spun and faced Whitney.
“Dearest daughter, you know your father and I love you so.”
The tone of her mother’s voice had Whitney worried. She was much too serious and it was apparent that something weighed very heavily on her mind. The crease in her usually smooth forehead was the deepest Whitney had ever seen.
“Mama?” Whitney asked again, trying to swallow the large lump that had formed in her throat.
Her mother approached, clasping Whitney’s hands in hers, and pulled her to the settee so they could both sit down next to each other.
“As you know, your marriage prospects have dwindled to the point they are non-existent.”
Whitney groaned. Not this again. She wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about how she had ruined her life. She was well aware of that already and didn’t need or appreciate the constant reminder. She and Harold were to be married. He’d promised her so. They’d talked of their future. What it would mean for the both of them. The life they would share. The children they would have. The home they would build.
Unfortunately, young, gullible Whitney didn’t see the talks for what they were—lies.
All of them.
Not one word Harold spoke was true in any way. He had filled her head with such dreams and fantasies, and was so convincing in the process that not once did she ever have a doubt that he was lying to her. So, when he pushed her to take their courtship to the next level, telling her that it was only natural, she agreed. They were to be married after all. For them to partake in carnal pleasures was to be expected.
She should have known that their future wasn’t to be. They weren’t courting in public. There were no promenades, no dancing at the many balls they both attended. Harold hadn’t spoken to her father to get his blessing.
None of the usual things that happened when a couple courted happened in their relationship. But, yet, in her mind, she longed for the companionship so badly, she ignored all the things that were wrong. She didn’t have many girlfriends. And after word got out that she had bedded Harold, and they’d continued the endeavors for quite some time before getting caught, the few friends she did have were prohibited from associating themselves with her. As if what she’d done was contagious.
And then she’d found out that she was with child.
Her father was furious. He was ready to march over to Harold’s house and demand he do the right thing. But Whitney would rather be alone than be married to someone who didn’t love her.
Between she and her mother, they managed to convince her father to stay home and not confront her former lover. No one ever learned of the baby. It was a well-guarded secret between Whitney and her parents. One that would remain so.
Just a few weeks later, she’d lost the baby. The period of mourning she’d felt at the loss wasn’t anything she wanted to experience ever again. Still now, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be a mother. Could she carry a child to term? She didn’t know. And she wasn’t so sure she wanted to try and find out.
The heartbreak would be too much to bear.
