Fiona nodded. “We could go together. Just like we’re going to go to see Will’s family.”
Gemma let out a small sigh. She wished it were that simple. “We’ll talk about it when he get home. For now, let’s enjoy our adventure.”
“Fine,” Fiona replied. “I just have one more question.” She slipped her hands out from Gemma’s grasp. “Is your life there really better than this? Because I can’t believe it is.”
Gemma held in a small laugh. Fiona was right. This was the best sort of life. She swallowed down a lump. If only it could be hers.
Chapter Twelve
Will stepped into the Dunleary’s tiny kitchen. Despite its size it was neat and clean, with dishes carefully stacked on open shelves. To one side, sat a shelf with four toys. A wooden doll, a toy cart, a ball and stick connected with a string, and a box with a sliding lid.
“What pretty toys.” Will pointed to them.
Mrs. Dunleary reached up a hand and ran it along the shelf. “They belonged to our children.”
Will’s jaw tightened as he stared at the little mementos. “What happened to them?”
“Disease of the lung. One after the other,” she replied. “The crops were bad that year and food was scarce. I tried—”
Will’s heart beat faster. It was his own fear come to life. “I’m verra sorry.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “We had a girl and a boy too. A little older than the two ye brought today.” Her husband reached for her hand.
“If ye sincerely want to give other children a home, Fiona and Ewan were delivered to me from St. Mary’s orphanage not three hours’ ride from here.”
“Orphanage?” Mr. Dunleary crinkled his brow. “More children in need of a home?”
Will nodded. “So many, they’re sending them away. And honestly, I’m not sure the conditions are verra good. Fiona won’t discus
s it, but she’s frightened to return. The life ye could provide for such wee ones would be a great deal better than what they have now.”
Mrs. Dunleary let out a little gasp. “Would they allow us to adopt?”
Will lifted one shoulder. “I don’t see why not, but I can have the magistrate write up a letter of reference if ye’d like.”
Mrs. Dunleary covered her mouth and then she lowered them to her lap. “I’d like that very much.”
“Ye came all this way to tell us this?” Mr. Dunleary stuck out his hand. “Thank ye, my lord.”
Will shook it. “I have to confess that I also came here while on my way to visit with my family,” he said. “My brother is Blair Sinclair.”
Mr. Dunleary’s eyes lit with understanding. “Now it all makes sense. A fine man, yer brother. We’re blessed to have him as our lord. I can see that it runs in the family.”
“High praise.” Will shifted his weight, looking to the floor.
“Would ye join us for a bit of tea?” Mrs. Dunleary asked. “I ken the children are leaving with ye, but I’d love to meet them. It’s been terribly quiet here and…” Her voice trailed off.
“Let me collect them,” he answered. “We’d love to stay fer tea.”
He stepped outside and scanned the area for Gemma and the children. He easily spotted them on the road they had driven down to the farm. Gemma was crouched down, talking to Fiona, their red hair glistening in the sun. How had he not noticed that the color was nearly the same shade?
He started toward them but Gemma caught sight of him and stood. Then, taking Fiona’s hand, they began making their way back to the house, Ewan toddling next to them.
“Da,” Ewan called, pointing. “Da.”
Will quickened the pace sweeping the boy into his arms and planting a kiss on his rosy cheek. “I suppose I am,” he said, his voice vibrating on the boy’s skin. “I’ll try my best to be a good one.”
“You’ll be the best,” Gemma said next to him.