Page 41 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

“Excellent,” Garrett replied. “The marmalade and apricot jam. Ladies? Any preferences?”

“Your selections are perfect,” Abbie smiled.

Mr. Crook bowed. “Right away, sir.” He scurried off, leaving them mercifully alone.

Abbie picked up the china teapot and filled their cups. “What an advantage being born into an aristocratic family. He couldn’t do enough for us.”

“Believe me, the bowing and scraping becomes tedious very quickly. All it does is draw attention.” Garrett stared at the women at the next table. He scowled and they looked away, blushing and whispering behind their hands. He could well imagine what they were saying. No doubt wondering who Megan and Abbie were to him—although one glance at his daughter and conclusions could be drawn.

Abbie chuckled. “Ignore them. Instead, let us enjoy the company and the food. Goodness, I hardly know where to begin. Megan?”

“Mama, you have to ask? Cake, of course!”

Garrett laughed as Abbie used the silver tongs to load her plate. “I believe I will begin with scones, if Mr. Crook would make haste with the jams.”

The older man hurried to their table and served the condiments. “Anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you. We have everything we need, and it is lovely.”

Mr. Crook beamed in response, then moved to another table. Garrett placed three scones on his plate, slathering them with apricot jam and dollops of fresh cream.

“The Wollstonecrafts are involved in progressive causes. Will you tell us which ones?” Megan asked as she placed a piece of strawberry cake on her plate.

“Of course. Your grandfather is in the House of Lords, and your uncle, Julian, is a member of parliament, since his viscount title is courtesy only. Both are working toward factory reform and revising the current inadequate Factory Act by limiting the number of hours of work during the day, especially for women and children. They are also crafting revisions concerning improvement of the horrendous working conditions.” Garrett sipped his tea. “Riordan, your cousin, is involved in education reform. It is why he took the position of schoolmaster, to test his ideas. He found the profession enriching and wishes to build his own school here in Kent.”

“How wonderful,” Megan said. “And you, sir?”

He and Abbie locked gazes. “I recently found a worthy cause in the medical field. Treatment of addiction.”

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my, like Papa used to do. Dr. Bevan is continuing his work.”

“Yes. I’m toying with the idea of setting up a grant for young doctors to train in this field, eventually leading to funding sanatoriums similar to the one…your father ran.” Garrett nearly choked on the word “father,” but Dr. Hughes had brought her up. “My nephew, Aidan, will join me in this venture, I’m sure.”

“I believe he will,” Abbie replied softly.

“I have a cause,” Megan announced. “I believe people like Jonas, who are challenged either physically or intellectually, should have a safe haven if they have no family to care for them. The asylums are not the place for those with special needs.”

Garrett felt a surge of pride at Megan’s statement. “Then we shall see it done. I will raise the subject at our next family meeting.”

Satisfied, Megan began to eat her cake. A smudge of frosting dotted the tip of her nose, and Garrett gently brushed it away with the tip of his finger. At least she didn’t shrink from his touch. She giggled when he showed her the evidence.

They conversed pleasantly, and Garrett could not remember when he had spent such an enjoyable afternoon. Finally, his daughter appeared to be warming toward him, at least a little.

“Megan and I have decided on a date to return to Standon,” Abbie stated. “We discussed it this morning.”

Frustration, tinged with sadness, speared him, though he fought showing it. So much for the lovely afternoon. “Oh?”

“Next Monday, the twenty-sixth.”

Less than six days. Blast it all, he hurt inside. Garrett took a bite of his scone and did not reply.

His disappointment must have been obvious, for Abbie said, “Alberta and Jonas have their own lives. As do we, as I’ve explained earlier. Megan must return to school. Do you think your father and brother will return home by Monday next? We certainly do not wish to leave without saying goodbye.”

“They will return in a day or two. By Sunday at the very latest,” he replied gruffly.

“Wonderful. Megan has something to ask you.”

He looked to his daughter, and she met his inquiring gaze shyly. “I hope, well, both of us hope, you will come for a visit. Perhaps you can even return with us to Standon. I know it is a lot to ask on short notice.”