She did not tarry, lest she loseher nerve.
What can man do unto me?
Aye, she would cling to those words and keep walking.
Just as she’d imagined, Halliwell’s Close was crowded with folk bringing in the May. Freshly cut hawthorn branches, fragrant with tiny white flowers, were fastened to every doorpost, and the air was filled with merriment. In the marketplace shepherds from the hills mingled with the lasses of the town, circling the mercat cross in an ancient dance while a fiddler spun a lively reel. At least she’d chosen a day when her neighbors might be more charitable.
First, she would learn what she could of Gibson. Anne’s words from days past haunted her.
You must prepare yourself for the worst
. But Marjory was not prepared. Nae, she would not even consider it.
She crossed Kirk Wynd and headed for the manse, praying in earnest.
May there be some report of him, Lord, and may it be favorable
. When Reverend Brown yanked open the door before she knocked, her hopes rose. “You’ve news for me?” Marjory asked, thinking he’d watched her approach from the window.
“As it happens, I am bound for the school to meet with the
dominie
, Daniel Cumming.”
“I see.” Marjory knew the schoolmaster only by name. “My daughter-in-law sews his shirts,” she said without thinking.
The minister’s countenance darkened. “I beg your pardon?”
“That is, she is … helping Mr. Dalgliesh, the tailor …” Marjory stopped before she made a greater fool of herself or, worse, injured Elisabeth’s reputation.
To her surprise the minister’s expression lightened considerably. “As it happens, the Widow Kerr will also be sewing my shirts. And very skillfully, I’m told. But you’ve not come to speak of clothing.” He crossed the threshold and joined her in the street. “I met with Joseph Haldane this morn.”
Marjory almost stood on tiptoe, her heart prepared to soar. “And?”
The reverend shook his head. “No word of Gibson.”
Her spirits sank as quickly as they’d risen. “What am I to do?”
His silence offered little comfort. “None of the coachmen have seen him,” he finally said, “and they’ve traveled the Edinburgh road many times since your arrival. Nor did the proprietor of the Middleton Inn have any inkling of your manservant’s whereabouts. I am sorry, Mrs. Kerr, but …”
Nae!
She closed her eyes, wishing she might shut out the truth. “He cannot be dead,” she whispered. “He cannot be.”
Fifteen
Our real blessings often appear to us
in the shape of pains, losses and disappointments;
but let us have patience, and we soon
shall see them in their proper figures.
J OSEPH A DDISON
arjory trudged across the marketplace, hardly able to lift her feet.
My dear Gibson, dead. Because of me
.
“We cannot be certain,” Reverend Brown had cautioned her before hurrying off to meet with the schoolmaster. “The weather has been milder than usual. As I recall, he’s a capable man, your Gibson.”
Aye, he was. And loyal. And kind
.
Tears stung her eyes. Could Neil Gibson truly be gone from this world?
“I’ll reach Selkirk
lang
afore ye do,” Gibson had said before bidding her farewell at Milne Square. She’d believed him, convincing herself that no obstacle strewed in Gibson’s path could deter him. Though she’d not had a shilling to spare when they’d left Edinburgh, the fact was, if she’d managed to pay for his seat in a carriage, Gibson would be alive now, safe by her side. How could she live with that awful truth?
Forgive me, forgive me
. She’d begged that of Lord John when he lay in his grave and then of both her sons when she learned of their deaths. Perhaps she bore some terrible curse, condemning any man she held dear.
Marjory avoided the May Day revelers with their youthful exuberance and aimed her steps toward the East Port. Any plan to greet her neighbors was quickly forsaken. Such banter required a light heart, a kind word, a ready smile. She could
What can man do unto me?
Aye, she would cling to those words and keep walking.
Just as she’d imagined, Halliwell’s Close was crowded with folk bringing in the May. Freshly cut hawthorn branches, fragrant with tiny white flowers, were fastened to every doorpost, and the air was filled with merriment. In the marketplace shepherds from the hills mingled with the lasses of the town, circling the mercat cross in an ancient dance while a fiddler spun a lively reel. At least she’d chosen a day when her neighbors might be more charitable.
First, she would learn what she could of Gibson. Anne’s words from days past haunted her.
You must prepare yourself for the worst
. But Marjory was not prepared. Nae, she would not even consider it.
She crossed Kirk Wynd and headed for the manse, praying in earnest.
May there be some report of him, Lord, and may it be favorable
. When Reverend Brown yanked open the door before she knocked, her hopes rose. “You’ve news for me?” Marjory asked, thinking he’d watched her approach from the window.
“As it happens, I am bound for the school to meet with the
dominie
, Daniel Cumming.”
“I see.” Marjory knew the schoolmaster only by name. “My daughter-in-law sews his shirts,” she said without thinking.
The minister’s countenance darkened. “I beg your pardon?”
“That is, she is … helping Mr. Dalgliesh, the tailor …” Marjory stopped before she made a greater fool of herself or, worse, injured Elisabeth’s reputation.
To her surprise the minister’s expression lightened considerably. “As it happens, the Widow Kerr will also be sewing my shirts. And very skillfully, I’m told. But you’ve not come to speak of clothing.” He crossed the threshold and joined her in the street. “I met with Joseph Haldane this morn.”
Marjory almost stood on tiptoe, her heart prepared to soar. “And?”
The reverend shook his head. “No word of Gibson.”
Her spirits sank as quickly as they’d risen. “What am I to do?”
His silence offered little comfort. “None of the coachmen have seen him,” he finally said, “and they’ve traveled the Edinburgh road many times since your arrival. Nor did the proprietor of the Middleton Inn have any inkling of your manservant’s whereabouts. I am sorry, Mrs. Kerr, but …”
Nae!
She closed her eyes, wishing she might shut out the truth. “He cannot be dead,” she whispered. “He cannot be.”
Fifteen
Our real blessings often appear to us
in the shape of pains, losses and disappointments;
but let us have patience, and we soon
shall see them in their proper figures.
J OSEPH A DDISON
arjory trudged across the marketplace, hardly able to lift her feet.
My dear Gibson, dead. Because of me
.
“We cannot be certain,” Reverend Brown had cautioned her before hurrying off to meet with the schoolmaster. “The weather has been milder than usual. As I recall, he’s a capable man, your Gibson.”
Aye, he was. And loyal. And kind
.
Tears stung her eyes. Could Neil Gibson truly be gone from this world?
“I’ll reach Selkirk
lang
afore ye do,” Gibson had said before bidding her farewell at Milne Square. She’d believed him, convincing herself that no obstacle strewed in Gibson’s path could deter him. Though she’d not had a shilling to spare when they’d left Edinburgh, the fact was, if she’d managed to pay for his seat in a carriage, Gibson would be alive now, safe by her side. How could she live with that awful truth?
Forgive me, forgive me
. She’d begged that of Lord John when he lay in his grave and then of both her sons when she learned of their deaths. Perhaps she bore some terrible curse, condemning any man she held dear.
Marjory avoided the May Day revelers with their youthful exuberance and aimed her steps toward the East Port. Any plan to greet her neighbors was quickly forsaken. Such banter required a light heart, a kind word, a ready smile. She could
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