Page 69 of The Keeper and I

“Samuel?”

“Are you sure it’s what you want, love?” he asked. “I cannot give you the life you’re accustomed to. Our children won’t have—”

She put her fingers to his lips to stop him. “Our children will have everything they need. Parents who love them. And we shall have enough to keep them fed and dressed, don’t you think?”

“Aye, that much is certain,” he replied, his smile slowly returning. “Will it be enough for you? You are giving up so much.”

“Such as? A society that has consistently rejected me? A family that sees me as nothing more than a means to an end? A lifetime beside a man who cannot give me a fraction of the happiness you can?” She shook her head. “I will gladly trade it all.”

He cupped her face in his hand and pulled her in for another kiss, which solidified her decision. There was little she would not give up to keep his kisses.

“I think you might miss your family,” he said. “They do love you.”

“And I love them. But I am only a daughter, the third born. The only way I’ll be of use to them is by securing an advantageous marriage. And, believe me, no one is interested in marrying me.”

“That’s not true,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m extremely interested.”

She giggled. “You’re the first.”

“I’ll be the only,” he said firmly. “You're mine now, my love.”

He accentuated the point with a deep, possessive kiss that left her breathless.

She wondered if she should tell him about her mother’s latest proclamation that Lord Seymour was planning to call. Evidently, he and her father had been speaking for some time, and Seymour was on the marriage market. It had been a respectable amount of time since his first wife had passed, though his estate was so far away, not many of the London debutantes were clamoring for his affections. Plus, he had a reputation for being rather standoffish if not rude at times.

She decided against telling Samuel. It was too early. Besides, once Lord Seymour saw her and her size, he would certainly not agree to the match. There was no need to worry Samuel, or herself for that matter. All would be well when they finally escaped England and made their happy life in the Scottish countryside.

Chapter 17

Forthefirsttimein over a decade, Jordan laid eyes on his mother.

She sat at a table by Coffeeify’s front window, the very table where he and Laci had agreed to their arrangement. Somehow, with Nina, it looked further away.

He watched her turn her head, her dark brown curls and sharp features, which so resembled his, caught the light. Last time he saw her she was exhausted from the divorce from his father and everything that came after. She looked younger now. When she caught his eye, she smiled.

He attempted to smile back but couldn’t muster a proper one, so he pointed to the counter to let her know he was ordering, not ignoring her. She nodded and sipped her coffee. Jordan ordered a full bean black coffee, so it was ready in no time. Bracing himself with a breath, he went to the table.

“Hi,” she said, and up close, he saw her smile falter.

Appreciating that she didn’t try to hug him, he took a seat. “Hi.”

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” she said, scooting her chair closer to the table. “Bit chipper this place, isn’t it?”

“They do a lot of good,” Jordan returned with a shrug. “I come here a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve even got the Coffeeify-Your-Day-Every-Day Rewards Card. Fucking mouthful, but it’s worth it.”

“That’s nice.” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to let you know how sorry I am for how I handled things with your father. And for not being there when you and Ava needed me. It’s the biggest regret of my life. I expect I’ll spend the rest of my days making up for it.”

He also appreciated that she didn’t attempt any niceties before getting right to it. But they weren’t that kind of family. He wouldn’t have been comfortable updating her on his life until he was certain he wanted her back in it. So far she was off to a good start.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly though he meant it. He’d waited years to hear those words. Though he acknowledged that he hadn’t made it easy on her to say them given how determined he had been to ignore her.

“I’ve seen a counselor who helped me realize that while I was a victim of my ex-husband’s behavior, my response victimized my children. And that was not okay. I should have been a better mother to you. I was just so hurt and angry—” she stopped short and shook her head. “No. No excuses. I’m sorry. And that’s that.”

Jordan sipped his coffee while his brain clamored for a reply. As grateful as he was for the apology, and that she had worked on herself, it didn’t erase everything that had happened. It certainly did not rid him of the memory of Ava, barely conscious on the floor, bruises blooming over her eyes, and blood dribbling from her mouth. His expression soured.