Surrender by Brenda Joyce Read Free Book Online
Authors: Brenda Joyce
gold before his death. But he had left that monumental task up to her, Evelyn. She prayed she was up to it.
Aimee would never find herself in the straits that Evelyn had been left in as a child, she vowed. Evelyn’s father had loved her, or so she believed, but he had failed in his responsibility to her. He had been right to leave her with Robert, as he was too reckless and irresponsible to care for her, but it had been wrong to leave her penniless. She, Evelyn, must never fail her daughter.
“Mama? Are you crying?”
Aimee’s small, frightened voice cut through her thoughts. Evelyn realized she was battling rising tears, but some of them were due to the great strain she was under. She faced her daughter, but not before wiping her eyes quickly with her fingertips. “Darling! Have I overslept?” She swept her close, into a big embrace.
“You never sleep in,” Aimee whispered. “Are you tired today?”
“I was very tired, darling, but I am back to being myself now.” Evelyn kissed her. “I will always miss your father,” Evelyn said softly. “He was a good man, a good husband, a good father.” But why hadn’t he retrieved the gold in the past five years? Why had he left her with such a daunting task? When he hadn’t allowed her any duties except those of being a mother and a wife, when he was still alive? If she had been allowed more independence, she might not feel so overwhelmed now.
She stepped back from Aimee, knowing she must find the kind of courage she never had before.
“Is Papa watching us from Heaven?” Aimee asked.
Evelyn wet her lips and somehow smiled. “Papa is certainly still with us—he will always be with us, even when he goes further into Heaven, he will be in our hearts and in our memories.”
But suddenly she didn’t understand why he hadn’t at the very least made arrangements to have that gold brought from France to them. He had been of sound mind until the very end.
Was she actually angry with Henri now? She was incredulous. He had just passed, and she must not be angry with him! He had been so ill, he had loved her and Aimee, and if he could have recovered that gold for them, he would have done so!
And if Henri hadn’t been able to retrieve the gold, was she mad to think that she could do so now, when she was just a woman, and a somewhat pampered noblewoman, at that?
But she would not go to France alone. She hoped to go there with Jack Greystone, and he was certainly capable of achieving anything he set his mind to.
His image assailed her again, as he stood at his ship’s helm, the wind buffeting his shirt against his body, his hair streaming in it, as his cutter raced the wind.
Aimee stared solemnly at her. “I want Papa to be happy now.”
Evelyn quickly hugged her. Aimee had seen how bitter and dark her father had become over the past few years. Children could not be fooled. She had sensed his anguish, his pain and his anger. “Your papa is certainly at peace now, Aimee, because he is in heaven with angels,” she said softly. Aimee nodded solemnly. “Can he see us, Mama? From heaven?”
“I think he can.” She smiled. “And that is how he will always watch over us. Now, can you leave me while I get dressed? And then we can take le petit déjeuner together.”
And as Aimee nodded, smiling, Evelyn watched her leave the room. The moment her daughter was gone, she let Jack Greystone fill her thoughts. Her chest seemed to tighten again. And she most certainly knew why—but she hadn’t expected to have such a silly reaction to the mere idea of him, not after all of these years.
Carefully, she sorted through her memories.
Henri had slept through most of the Channel crossing, and Bette had read to Aimee until the sea had lulled her back to sleep. Evelyn had stood by the porthole, watching the sunrise as it turned the sea pink and gold, marveling at the experience of crossing the Channel on a swift sloop with black sails. But she had been impatient. She
Aimee would never find herself in the straits that Evelyn had been left in as a child, she vowed. Evelyn’s father had loved her, or so she believed, but he had failed in his responsibility to her. He had been right to leave her with Robert, as he was too reckless and irresponsible to care for her, but it had been wrong to leave her penniless. She, Evelyn, must never fail her daughter.
“Mama? Are you crying?”
Aimee’s small, frightened voice cut through her thoughts. Evelyn realized she was battling rising tears, but some of them were due to the great strain she was under. She faced her daughter, but not before wiping her eyes quickly with her fingertips. “Darling! Have I overslept?” She swept her close, into a big embrace.
“You never sleep in,” Aimee whispered. “Are you tired today?”
“I was very tired, darling, but I am back to being myself now.” Evelyn kissed her. “I will always miss your father,” Evelyn said softly. “He was a good man, a good husband, a good father.” But why hadn’t he retrieved the gold in the past five years? Why had he left her with such a daunting task? When he hadn’t allowed her any duties except those of being a mother and a wife, when he was still alive? If she had been allowed more independence, she might not feel so overwhelmed now.
She stepped back from Aimee, knowing she must find the kind of courage she never had before.
“Is Papa watching us from Heaven?” Aimee asked.
Evelyn wet her lips and somehow smiled. “Papa is certainly still with us—he will always be with us, even when he goes further into Heaven, he will be in our hearts and in our memories.”
But suddenly she didn’t understand why he hadn’t at the very least made arrangements to have that gold brought from France to them. He had been of sound mind until the very end.
Was she actually angry with Henri now? She was incredulous. He had just passed, and she must not be angry with him! He had been so ill, he had loved her and Aimee, and if he could have recovered that gold for them, he would have done so!
And if Henri hadn’t been able to retrieve the gold, was she mad to think that she could do so now, when she was just a woman, and a somewhat pampered noblewoman, at that?
But she would not go to France alone. She hoped to go there with Jack Greystone, and he was certainly capable of achieving anything he set his mind to.
His image assailed her again, as he stood at his ship’s helm, the wind buffeting his shirt against his body, his hair streaming in it, as his cutter raced the wind.
Aimee stared solemnly at her. “I want Papa to be happy now.”
Evelyn quickly hugged her. Aimee had seen how bitter and dark her father had become over the past few years. Children could not be fooled. She had sensed his anguish, his pain and his anger. “Your papa is certainly at peace now, Aimee, because he is in heaven with angels,” she said softly. Aimee nodded solemnly. “Can he see us, Mama? From heaven?”
“I think he can.” She smiled. “And that is how he will always watch over us. Now, can you leave me while I get dressed? And then we can take le petit déjeuner together.”
And as Aimee nodded, smiling, Evelyn watched her leave the room. The moment her daughter was gone, she let Jack Greystone fill her thoughts. Her chest seemed to tighten again. And she most certainly knew why—but she hadn’t expected to have such a silly reaction to the mere idea of him, not after all of these years.
Carefully, she sorted through her memories.
Henri had slept through most of the Channel crossing, and Bette had read to Aimee until the sea had lulled her back to sleep. Evelyn had stood by the porthole, watching the sunrise as it turned the sea pink and gold, marveling at the experience of crossing the Channel on a swift sloop with black sails. But she had been impatient. She