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She stared at her friend, astonished. “You’re one of the kindest people I know.”
“You can thank my husband for that.” Bathsheba’s quick smile flashed like sunlight after a storm. “John saw what I couldn’t see. He saw the person that I could become, and the life that we could have together. Not that it was easy, mind you. I resisted mightily. But John kept chipping away until he got past the stupid, hard shell I’d put round my heart. You’re not like I was at all. Your heart isn’t the least bit hard. In fact, you’re an absolute peach, old girl. We know it, and Braden knows it.”
Samantha had thought she’d safely walled off her heart, but right now it ached with a terrible longing she couldn’t even express. “I . . . I don’t know what to say to any of this.”
Donella also leaned forward, tapping Samantha on the knee. “My dear girl, regardless of what happened in your past, youcanmove beyond it. You’ve already proven you have the strength to do so. Not only did you survive a terrible tragedy, you fought back. So, don’t limit yourself or your future. Both can be so much more than you think you deserve right now.”
“Youcanbe happy again, dearest,” Bathsheba softly added. “But first, you must truly want it.”
Samantha wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe she could have a future, one full of laughter and joy. A future that might even include Braden Kendrick.
But again she heard the whisper in her head. It was the voice she’d been living with for the last two years—the one that told her that Roger must be avenged. She still had to put to rest the great injustice and sorrow of the past that she’d shared with her husband.
For now, any other future would simply have to wait.
CHAPTER17
As he and Logan surveyed the entrance hall of the Penwith Foundation, Braden noted with satisfaction that the atmosphere of faded grandeur had been transformed into one of holiday splendor. Swags of greenery with tartan bows bedecked the halls, and evergreen wreaths hung in the high windows. The bannisters of the grand staircase were wrapped in lengths of red and green velvet, and the overhead chandelier, polished to a high gleam, was festooned with mistletoe boughs.
They’d planned and organized the entire affair in only five days. Most of the Kendrick house staff had been involved, as had Logan, Kade, and himself. They’d spent the last two days carting furniture and climbing ladders. It had been a pain in the arse, but it would be worth it if it helped Samantha and the orphanage.
“The old pile is looking grand,” Braden said to Will, who was passing their coats and hats to a waiting footman. “We couldn’t have done it without you and the Heriot Row staff. Well done.”
Their butler, having overseen the lion’s share of the preparations, allowed himself a smile. “Thank you, sir. I believe it’s turned out rather well.”
Logan shrugged out of his topcoat and handed it over. “It’s a bloody miracle. I had my doubts, especially when I was teetering at the top of that bloody ladder, hanging those bloody wreaths. I thought I’d never make it down alive.”
“Och, ye wee ninny,” Angus said as he unwound his wool muffler and dumped it over Will’s shoulder. “I could have run up that ladder in a triceanddone a better job of decoratin’.”
Logan, a veritable giant compared to Angus, snorted. “A wee ninny? No doubt that’s why Donella almost had a heart attack when she saw me on top of that decrepit thing.”
“Which is why ye should have let me go up. I’m as fleet-footed as a mountain goat, ye ken.”
“No more climbing ladders, Grandda,” Logan firmly said. “You’re too—”
Angus jabbed a finger toward his grandson. “Watch yerself, laddie boy.”
“Grandda, you helped a great deal, from what I heard,” Braden hastily interjected. “Donella said they couldn’t have pulled this off without your decorating ideas.”
Partially mollified, Angus left off jabbing his gnarled finger into Logan’s cravat. “Kind of ye to say so, lad. Takes a real organizer. Young Will does his best, but I’ve got the brains for plannin’ things out.”
Logan swallowed a muffled laugh. Their grandfather’s utter lack of organizing skills was legendary.
Angus glared at Logan. “Got somethin’ to say, lad?”
“Sorry, just a frog in my throat,” Logan replied, faking a cough.
“So, when are the other guests arriving?” Braden put in. “And where is Lady Samantha?”
Properly diverted, Angus gave him a sly grin. “Ye’ll be wantin’ to see her ladyship as soon as ye can, I reckon. Ye’ve been mopin’ all week because ye’ve barely seen her.”
Good God.
“She’s our hostess, Grandda. I was simply enquiring as to her whereabouts.”
“Really? Because I suspect you’d like to have a wee, private chat with her,” Logan said with a wink. “Verraprivate.”
Braden eyed his brother. “And I suspect you’re a moron. No, I’msureyou’re a moron.”
