Edwina (31 page)

“Are ye the child’s mother?”

“Yes. No. Yes, I am.” Edwina lifted her eyes.
She was the child’s mother... at least for now.

“You must not show the wee lass that you are
worried.” The man took her arm and lifted her. “Both legs are
broken, one more severely, and we’ll be watching for signs of
internal injuries.”

Feet like bricks, she walked with him. The
man stopped at the door. “Wipe your eyes, she needs you to let her
know she’ll be all right. She’s afraid.”

Edwina couldn’t help it. She sobbed, her
forehead against the wall, then took several deep breaths and tried
to calm herself. Panic rose up inside her.

A familiar voice sounded from far away.
“Where is the wee lass?”

She ran into Mrs. Gillespie’s arms. “I don’t
know what to do. I don’t know what to do. . . .”

“Calm yourself, child. There’s nothing to be
done aboot it now. Hold yerself up now and do yer duty,” she
ordered.

Edwina did. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve
and allowed Rose Gillespie to take charge of her. “Now the good
doctor says the lass is needin’ ye. Go in and let her know she’ll
be all aboot the manor in no time. Go on wi’ ye.”

The door opened slowly, and Edwina nearly
lost her nerve. She couldn’t let Paige down, not now. Swallowing
hard, she followed the doctor and found herself next to the bed.
Looking down at Paige’s beautiful dark hair splayed on the pillow,
her face bruised, chin scraped... she would not allow her eyes to
look at her legs. Thankfully, they were covered with a sheet.

“Here she is.” The doctor sounded confident
as he looked to her.

“I’m here, Paige. I’m here. I won’t leave
you.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes, your mommy’s here.” Edwina saw her try
to lift her eyelids.

“She’s been given something to relax her.
We’ll need to set the legs later, when the swelling goes down. Is
her father on the way?” he whispered.

“Yes, I think so,” Had Mrs. Gillespie
called?

Paige would not be left alone. She had called
her mommy, and Edwina had answered to it. She pulled up a
chair.

Head in hands, she prayed. God knew what to
do. For once in her life, she was totally helpless.

Chapter 49

H
ours passed. She felt hunger jabs and dizziness. Had she
slept? The doctors came and took Paige somewhere. She was told to
sleep on the cot and wait. She lay down but could not close her
eyes. She watched the door. They would bring her back in. They had
to.

Sleep must have overtaken her for she felt
something against her face. Fabric. Her eyes shot open. Nurses were
passing by, their skirts fanning her face. They worked around the
bed. Edwina sat up and rubbed her burning eyes. It was morning.

Paige was back. “Is she okay?”

“Aye, she is much better now. The legs have
been set.”

“Both of them?” Edwina’s whispered words came
out in a whimper.

“Aye, one worse than the other but both were
broken. But the lass is strong. She’ll mend. Just ye make sure ye
let her know all is well.”

“Aye,” Edwina agreed and rose up on legs that
felt like overcooked noodles.

“Are the Gillespies here?”

“Aye, they’ve not left.” The nurse smiled.
“Would ye like them to come in?”

“Oh yes, please.”

“Your husband is on the way,” one nurse
assured her. “He will be here soon.” Edwina looked at the nurse,
and started to correct her, when the thought fell over her heart
like a rock. She felt no assurance whatsoever. She had yet the
hardest job to do: face Paige’s father.

The Gillespies came in and embraced her. “The
lass is doing well,” the mister encouraged.

“Aye, she is like her father. She’ll mend.”
Mrs. Gillespie said the words, but Edwina saw her worried eyes.

“Go aboot now and get yerself something to
fill yer stomach, else ye will be lying in the bed next to the
lass.” Mrs. Gillespie said and gave her a push. “Go on now. We’ll
stay. We’d like some time wi’ the lass too,” she added for good
measure.

Edwina made her way out of the room, weak
from lack of food and sleep. Her back to the wall for support, she
took a deep breath. The first full deep breath she’d taken since
the awful accident. It was there she was standing when Mr. Dunnegin
came through the double doors.

He hesitated, then without so much as a
by-your-leave, walked right past her and into the room. The
emotions were written on his face. Fear. Dread. Quiet panic. And
she’d caused it all.

Truthfully, she didn’t blame him for not
wanting to speak to her. She pushed herself away from the wall and
started walking. Faint, she took a chair in a quiet hallway where
Mr. Dunnegin would not see her.

her.

“Would ye be needin’ the chapel?” A woman sat
next to her.

“Yes.”

“Come, lass. We’ll go.”

She took her arm, and Edwina let her.

The woman held the door,
and they walked into a dark- ened room with several short pews.
Edwina fell into one and tried to pray, but no words would come.
How could this have happened? And so fast. It seemed like she’d
just watched Paige in her little red hat flying by....
Oh Lord, I cannot think of it.
She sobbed into the hands covering her
face.

The woman patted her shoulder, and handed her
a glass of water.

Hymns played quietly in the background. Paige
drank the water. Slowly her heart began to hope. Prayers fell off
her lips in faith. Somehow Paige would be all right. Her job was
lost, but that was nothing now.

An idea planted itself in her mind. She must
see Bertie. “Thank you.” Edwina rose and faltered. “Would ye like a
quiet room to sleep?” The woman gazed into her eyes. “Aye.”

“Follow me, dearie.”

When her head hit the pillow, she slept.
Paige needed her father, and he was here.

Edwina woke with a banging headache. The room
went round in circles for a few seconds as she pulled herself up.
She was alone in a room barely larger than a corridor. Fresh
flowers stood on a square table next to the narrow cot, along with
a clock, a Bible, an empty glass, and a pitcher of iced water. The
little door must lead to a bathroom, which she needed
immediately.

Trembling, she sat on the cot, took the empty
glass and filled it, then drank. Back to the bathroom for a face
washing. Toweling dry her red eyes, she felt ready to go. Slipping
out into the hospital halls, she asked for the exit and walked
until she saw the red words, giving her the out she sought.

The sunshine in her eyes burned mercilessly.
She had just begun to walk when she heard her name.

“Miss Blair, you are aboot the hospital?”

“Yes.” She could not look into Reardon’s
eyes. He would accuse her too. She feigned tiredness and gazed over
his shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“I want to see Bertie.” She tried to keep her
voice steady.

“Come, lass. I’ll drive you.”

“What... what about the laird?”

“He’ll not be leaving today, I expect. I’ll
take you on to the castle and return for him.” He took her arm. She
wanted to throw herself into his arms and weep.

“You know... what happened?”

“Aye. I know.”

“And... you’re not . . .” He said nothing,
and Edwina couldn’t find it in her soul to speak another word,
grateful to God for giving her an out. He put her in the car,
gently this time, and shut the door. She was safe within the
familiar black car and leaned her head against the window. Tears
would not come.

“The child will be all right.” Reardon said
over his shoulder. His kindness was her undoing. She wept quietly
now, hands over her face. The tears flowed, bringing the balm of
release her soul craved. Bearing her duty, for she had erred
greatly, she knew there was nothing that could change what had
happened. She would visit Bertie and be gone before they brought
Paige home from the hospital.

That would solve everything. Mr. Dunnegin
would be home with his daughter, and she would be where she
belonged.

Which was where? Her thoughts scattered. “We
have arrived, miss,” Reardon informed her. “Thank you, Reardon. I
will never forget your kindness,”

she whispered hoarsely as he gave her his
gloved hand. “Aye, lass. Ye did not mean for it to happen.” Edwina
sobbed and did the most foolish thing. She threw

her arms around him and put her head on his
shoulder. At first he stiffened, and then she felt him relax. His
arms came up and surrounded her.

“Now off to Bertilda,” he said sharply.

Such a sight for a broken heart. She tossed
herself into the woman’s arms, but not before seeing the tears
running down her face.

“Oh, Bertie.”

“Come, lass. We’ll have a spot of tea. Ye
look as though the ghosts have trailed ye through the moors.”

“Ye must eat, lass. Ye are faint from the
looks o’ya.”

“I’m not hungry, Bertie. Perhaps just some
tea?” After tea Bertie hustled her up the stairs so familiar to
her, and landed her in the bath with rose scented warm water.

“There now, lass. Soak all the sorrow out o’
yer body, and we’ll be having ye a long sleep.”

“But—”

Bertie waved her arms, choosing not to
listen.

She did not deserve such care from Mr.
Dunnegin’s staff. First Reardon, the Scot’s own man, now Bertie.
Edwina knew she would accept their love for today, and tomorrow she
would be on a plane home. She would ask Bertie tonight to help her
make the arrangements.

Darkness fell over the Scottish hillsides,
and Edwina was glad. She could not bring herself to pull aside the
heavy window hangings and look upon the beautiful scene. She would
be leaving it behind. Again.

On her knees by the bed, she prayed for
Paige.

Chapter 50

U
p
early since sleep had come in short spurts during the night, Edwina
slipped out of the house as the sun was making its pronouncement of
a beautiful spring day. The birds dipped and lifted on the winds as
she walked away from the castle. She needed to think. Before she
left she had to face Alex Dunnegin. Her conscience would not allow
her to leave without doing so.

Her feet felt the green cushion of carpet,
now very familiar. Off came her shoes in favor of letting her toes
curl into the softness.

Words formed in her head, things she would
say, then she would veto them. What could she say? She’d been
neglectful. She hated the sound of it, but it was true. The child
she had learned to love... dear Paige... and she had allowed her to
be injured.

More than anything she wanted to see her one
last time. Could she possibly?

She’d bungled things. “Face it, Edwina,” she
admonished and turned toward the castle.

While still a long way off, she saw the black
car snake up the long drive. She wanted to run, but stayed at her
position.

Reardon parked in the circle right next to
the entry, and Mr. Dunnegin got out. Alone.

Paige was still in the hospital. Oh she hoped
all was well, then thought this might be a good time to see Paige
one more time and explain she would be leaving. But without Mr.
Dunnegin’s permission? She’d done enough damage already. If she had
any grit, this was the time to use it.

Edwina slipped her feet into her shoes and
purposely made her way up the hill to the castle.

The acceptance of Bertie and Reardon and her
prayers to God, who loved her no matter what she’d done, drove her
to knock at Mr. Dunnegin’s door. She laid her knuckles soundly
against the wood and heard, “Enter.”

Her heart fell to the bottom of its cavity,
and she righted it again with a sharp intake of a wobbly breath and
stepped in.

He was on the phone and did not see who
entered. He waved, his back turned to her. He was angry. He spoke
short, quick responses to the caller.

She did not need to be in here and turned.
“Miss Blair,” came the dreaded words. “Yes?” She turned and watched
as he lay the phone in its place. Standing behind his desk, he
said, “Sit down.” She did. He sat and ran his fingers through his
hair tiredly. Edwina flinched when he looked her full in the
eye.

“Mr. Dunnegin—”

“Miss Blair,” he interrupted. “My daughter is
going to be all right.”

Visibly shaken, she didn’t know what to say.
“Thank God,” came out.

His look softened for a moment.

“I am so sorry.” She talked to her lap.

He nodded and the phone rang, breaking the
brittle atmosphere.

He picked it up, turned his chair, and soon
stood and waved her off.

“We’ll talk later.”

Edwina felt her duty to Mr. Dunnegin
finished. She’d faced him. What else could she say to him? Now it
was time to pack her things at the manor and leave them to their
lives.

An hour later, duly fed and appropriately
admonished by Bertie for her decision to leave, Edwina asked
Reardon if he might make the fourteen minute drive out to Beaufort
Manor.

He hesitated for a moment and checked his
watch. “If we hurry on.” And he was gone.

She and Bertie said their tearful good-byes.
“Will ye be back, lass?” Edwina could not answer and shrugged, her
eyes on Bertie’s. “Then Godspeed, child,” she said and put her arms
around Edwina.

“Godspeed, Bertie,” she said, and before her
fragile emotions broke again, she walked away. Reardon was waiting
by the car and put her in. Exactly fourteen minutes later, she
arrived at the manor.

The house was empty, the Gillespies at the
hospital. Why was he at the castle anyway? He’d said she was going
to be all right. Still, why wasn’t he with his daughter?

She’d settled in enough that packing was not
as easy this time. And with all the gifts she’d bought for family,
it took longer than expected.