Page 21 of The Wayward Lady (The Wayward Widows of Willoughby Hall #1)

O ver the next few weeks, Kendrick and the children managed to muddle through their new life together.

Despite his best efforts, Kendrick couldn’t shake the lingering sense of emptiness that pervaded the cottage, a hollow ache at the absence of Lavender in his life. He found some solace in the children's laughter, Miranda’s fierce protectiveness over her siblings, and the simple routines they established together, but he still felt desperately alone.

Realizing he could not do it all himself, he reluctantly hired a woman to do the cooking and cleaning. Her name was Mrs. Harper, a stout woman with a no-nonsense demeanor that belied a kind heart. She took charge of the household duties efficiently, allowing Kendrick more time to bond with the children, catch up on his writing, and make some headway on the garden, which had grown wild in his absence.

Miranda, Rafael, and Teresa slowly began to settle into their lives at Seacrest, their hesitance toward Kendrick gradually melting away as they saw the genuine effort he put into caring for them. At first, he’d feared that he’d never be able to look at Teresa or Rafael without thinking about what Isabella had done, yet he was surprised by how quickly he’d fallen absolutely in love with the two of them. For their part, they embraced his presence in their lives without any reservations, even shyly asking him after a couple of weeks if they could call him Papa as Miranda did.

He had told them they could with tears stinging his eyes. Their resilience humbled him.

As days turned into weeks, Kendrick threw himself into the role of a father with unwavering dedication. He helped Rafael with his studies, comforted Teresa during her nightmares, and listened patiently to Miranda’s fears and worries. Each night, as he tucked them into bed, he marveled at how much he loved his makeshift family.

Yet, despite his efforts to create a sense of normalcy for the children, Kendrick couldn’t ignore the persistent tug of longing in his heart. The memories of Lavender lingered like a bittersweet melody in his mind, her absence a constant reminder of what could have been.

Every day, he fought the urge to go to Willoughby Hall, beg Lavender’s forgiveness, and try to explain why he felt he needed to devote all his energy to the children for now. But he was certain that if Miranda found out that he’d seen Lavender again, it would undo all the good he’d managed to do toward rebuilding their relationship.

And honestly, how would that help Lavender? To tell her he loved her but feared he wouldn’t be able to be with her for years? Wasn’t it better to just let her go, no matter how much it hurt?

The thoughts kept him up at night and haunted him all day, but no matter how much he turned it over in his mind, he didn’t know how to fix it.

M ore than two weeks passed without any word from Kendrick. Lavender was reminded of the last time they had gone so long without speaking, and her frustration grew with each passing day. Was he just not going to ever reach out to her again? Would he remain so close, just next door, but never talk to her? As though they were strangers? As though all the sweet friendship and passion between them had meant nothing?

Lavender found herself lost in a flurry of conflicting emotions, her heart torn between understanding Kendrick’s priorities, anger that he was shutting her out, and longing for his presence. She went about her daily routine with a heavy heart, the weight of his absence a constant ache that refused to dissipate. She often found herself flipping through her sketchbook at drawings she’d made during their trips, lingering over one of him stretched out on the bench in the train, his gaze tender as he’d stared at her.

She found herself even more confused when she received a cheque in the mail for her contribution to Kendrick’s gardening book. That must mean that he’d sold it. She wanted nothing more than to run to his house and celebrate with him. The amount had surprised her but also given her a much-needed sense of self-reliance. She finally had a little nest egg of her own, should she ever need it.

More than that, he’d shown her that she did have a skill and a passion for something. She supposed that she might be able to find more work as an illustrator if she wanted to, and she decided to write a letter to the publishing house, asking them if they had any leads on whom she might offer such services to.

But all of it just reminded her of all those spring days they’d spent together working on it, of how he’d helped her find a direction and a purpose.

Without him, she felt completely rudderless. She’d loved him far more than she’d ever loved Geoffrey. For the first time in her life, she’d felt seen for who she truly was, and she missed that. She missed the sense of belonging she’d felt in his arms. And she missed the children, even Miranda, who reminded her so much of herself at that age.

Her friends tried to offer her solace and companionship, but being with them no longer made her as happy as it once had. She had finally figured out what she wanted from life, and it was next door. She didn’t want the freedom to do whatever she wanted, not if it came with this aching loneliness.

She wanted a family, specifically Kendrick’s family. He needed her. They all needed her. Even Miranda. She could never replace Isabella, but she had so much love to give if only the girl would let her.

She agonized over how to fix the situation but didn’t even know if Kendrick wanted her to try. If he cared for her as much as she cared for him, wouldn’t he have contacted her? Or was he laboring under the mistaken idea that he and the three children would be a burden to her?

She talked the situation over with Eden, and her friend finally gave her an idea that made sense.

“Perhaps you need to make friends with the girl. Let her know you’re not trying to steal her father away. Didn’t you say that she liked to read?”

Lavender nodded. “Yes, she always had her nose in a book on the trip.”

“Why don’t you go to Seacrest and ask if she’d like to go with you to the bookstore? Just the two of you on a girls’ adventure.”

A small smile curved Lavender’s lips. “Do you think that might work?”

Eden nodded and squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know why you want to give up what you’ve found here to go and raise a bunch of children that aren’t even yours, but I can see how much you love them all. And I will do everything I can to help you make it happen.”

“Thank you,” Lavender breathed. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” The others had tried to be supportive, but they had done nothing but try to convince her that he did not deserve her. That she was crazy for even thinking of taking on Kendrick and his children. A part of her felt truly sad that none of them understood what it was like to love and be loved, that they couldn’t even conceive of wanting to be with a man they loved over remaining independent. But she had finally realized that no one’s journey was the same, and what made one person happy might make another miserable. What mattered was that together, they had all found the courage to go their own way.

T he following Saturday, Lavender mustered her courage and approached Kendrick’s lovely cottage. As she stood at the doorstep, her heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and hope. Was she doing the right thing? She had no idea. But after nearly talking herself out of it a dozen times, she had decided she had to take the chance.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

Miranda was the one to open it, her expression decidedly unfriendly. “Lady Crestwood,” she greeted her coolly, even though Lavender had never introduced herself to the girl so formally.

“Good morning, Miranda,” Lavender replied softly, offering a tentative smile.

“My papa is busy,” Miranda told her sternly. “He’s in his study working on his new book and isn’t to be disturbed.”

Lavender had the unwelcome thought that the girl had been monitoring the door these long weeks, determined to head her off should she try and visit.

Fighting to maintain her smile, Lavender said, “I am not here to see him. In fact, I am here to see you. I was wondering if you might like to accompany me to the bookstore in Broadstairs today.”

Miranda’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of interest sparking in their depths despite her obvious intention to remain cold toward Lavender. The thought of going to a bookstore was obviously more enticement than she could resist, no matter how much she wanted to keep Lavender at arm’s length. She glanced back into the cottage as if seeking approval from Kendrick, who suddenly appeared in the doorway behind her.

“Papa, may I go to the bookstore in town with Lavender?” she asked him.

His gaze met Lavender’s, and something unreadable passed between them. She once again had the impression he was trying to convey something without words. Something important.

“Would that be all right?” she asked him. “I know Miranda loves to read, and I thought she must be nearly out of books by now.”

“Of course, it would be all right,” he replied, his gaze raking over her from head to toe. The naked longing in his eyes gave her hope, and she wanted her visit to give him some as well. He shifted his gaze to Miranda. “Go get ready,” he urged her.

She dashed away toward the stairs, and as soon as she was out of sight, he pulled Lavender into a passionate embrace, kissing her as though he were starving for a taste of her.

The moment seemed an eternity and yet far too brief, but as soon as she was in his arms again, she knew she had been right not to give up on him.

He pulled away reluctantly and then cleared his throat. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Kendrick,” Lavender whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she gazed up at him, her heart racing with longing and relief. The tender moment hung between them, wrapped in unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. It wasn’t over between them. It couldn’t be.

Kendrick’s eyes searched hers, dark and intense with emotions he struggled to contain. “I thought about you every day,” he admitted quietly, a rare vulnerability flickering in his gaze. “I just don’t know how to fix this. But the fact that you’ve come here, that you’re trying to build a relationship with her...” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “You do. You deserve love, Kendrick.”

“Do you love me?” he asked hoarsely, looking as though he’d been punched in the gut.

“Of course I do,” she hurried to assure him, hearing Miranda returning. “I thought you knew that.”

Miranda descended the stairs, ready for their outing to the bookstore, but Lavender was almost certain that if they’d had more time, he would have said the words she desperately wanted to hear.

“We’ll talk later,” Kendrick said, looking just as frustrated at not being able to continue their conversation now as she was.

She nodded quickly and stepped outside with Miranda, who looked pensive but much less hostile than she had the last time Lavender had seen her. As they headed toward town, Lavender tried her best to engage the girl in conversation, with limited success. She was obviously still resistant to the thought of Lavender in her papa’s life but also very eager to get a few new books.

They went to the bookstore that Lavender and Eden loved so much, and Lavender could see that Miranda was enthralled the moment they walked in the door. Miranda’s initial reserve melted away as they browsed through the aisles, replaced by animated discussions about her favorite books and characters.

Lavender listened attentively, sharing Miranda’s enthusiasm for stories that transported them to another world. Miranda agonized over her selections, but Lavender was pleased to see that several of the ones she ended up picking had been her suggestions, books she had loved when she was a child.

She ended up buying Miranda half a dozen books with some of the money she had gotten for illustrating Kendrick’s book, and the girl was overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude. As they headed back to Seacrest, she held the books as though they were the most precious things she had ever owned, and maybe they were.

They were nearly to the cottage when Miranda stopped, grabbing Lavender’s hand and turning to face her. “Did you only do this because you’re in love with my papa and you want him to love you back?”

With a sigh, Lavender gestured to a fallen log, knowing that this needed to be a longer conversation than could be accomplished in the middle of the road. She hoped that she would find the words to make Miranda understand that she wasn’t going to try and take Kendrick away but just wanted to be a part of their family.

Taking a seat on the log, Lavender patted the spot beside her, encouraging Miranda to join her. The girl hesitated momentarily before settling down, her gaze fixed intently on Lavender.

“I care for your papa very much, Miranda,” Lavender began softly, choosing her words with care. “But my feelings for him have nothing to do with how I feel about you or your siblings. I want to be a part of your lives because... because I care about all of you.”

Miranda’s brow furrowed in thought, her eyes searching Lavender’s face for any hint of insincerity. After a moment of silence, she spoke hesitantly, “Papa seems different when you are around. Happier. And Rafael and Teresa like you too.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lavender’s lips at Miranda’s observation. “I am glad to hear that. I want to be here for all of you, not to replace anyone.”

Miranda frowned and dug her toe into the ground. “My mother didn’t care about us. All she cared about was finding a new man to have fun with. She often left us alone, and I did my best to take care of Rafael and Teresa.”

Lavender’s heart ached for Miranda, who had carried the weight of responsibilities far beyond her years. At least when her own father had abandoned her, there had been servants to watch over her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lavender murmured, gently placing a hand on Miranda’s shoulder, glad when she did not flinch away. “I am so sorry that happened. You should never have been put in such a situation. But you were so brave to take care of Rafael and Teresa.”

Miranda bit her lip and then shook her head. “I wasn’t brave. I was so afraid. I was always scared that something would happen to them, and I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“But you’re not alone now,” Lavender told her gently. “Your papa is here, and I think you must know that he would never leave you alone. I’ve known him for a while now, and I can assure you that he’s the most dependable man I know.”

“That’s why I don’t want you to take him away from me,” Miranda wailed. “I know that he wants to be with you. He spends half his day staring out the window toward your house.”

As much as Lavender’s heart thrilled to hear that bit of news, she knew how upsetting it must be for a girl who had been abandoned far too often. “I don’t want to take him away from you,” she whispered. “I want to be a partner to him. I want to help him take care of you and your siblings. We wouldn’t leave you alone to go have fun together. We want to include you in everything we do.”

Miranda lifted her gaze to meet Lavender’s, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” she admitted, vulnerability seeping into her words. She reminded Lavender so much of her father that it took her breath away.

Lavender’s hand tightened slightly on Miranda’s shoulder. “Trust takes time, Miranda. I understand that. I will be patient and prove to you that I can earn it.”

Miranda studied Lavender, her expression softening slightly as if considering her words. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly, a hint of reluctant acceptance in her eyes. “All right,” Miranda whispered. “I will try to trust you.”

A sense of relief washed over Lavender as she wrapped an arm around Miranda in a gentle embrace.

“I know something of what you’re feeling,” she assured her. “My own mother died when I was no older than you. My father remarried a horrible woman. She let me know from the beginning that I was not wanted, that I wasn’t part of the new family that she and my father started.” Tears clogged her throat, and she cleared it. “But that is exactly why I’m so sensitive to what you’re going through. I was never able to have children of my own. But it has always been my fondest wish to be a mother. I think I might be good at it.”

“You’re not my mother,” Miranda said sharply, and Lavender cursed herself for having used that word. “But you are nice,” she continued in a softer voice. “And Rafael and Teresa do need a mother.”

“Yes,” Lavender agreed. “They do.”

Miranda sighed. “I want my papa to be happy, and I want Rafael and Teresa to know what it feels like to be loved and cared for. It would be selfish of me to deny them your love just because I am jealous they’ll all love you more than they do me.”

“Oh, Miranda,” Lavender whispered, hugging the girl even tighter, stunned by the maturity of her observation. “Don’t you think it’s possible that we can all just love each other and not try to quantify it? That maybe we could truly be a family someday?”

Miranda pulled away, her dark eyes bright with tears. “I want to believe that, Lavender. I’m just so afraid that all this...” she waved a hand to encompass Seacrest and the ocean in the distance... “is just too good to be true. That if I let myself believe in it, that it will all be snatched away from me.”

“I’m afraid too,” Lavender admitted. “For all the same reasons. But if we don’t at least try, we’ll never know, will we? And isn’t it better to at least try?”

Miranda gazed back toward the cottage, a frown pulling at her lips, and Lavender could tell she was truly thinking about it. “I suppose so,” she finally agreed reluctantly.

Lavender squeezed her once more, then let go and stood. “I’m going to leave it all in your hands, Miranda. If you don’t want me at Seacrest, all you have to do is say so. But if you are willing to try, perhaps I could come by once a week for dinner?”

“I suppose that would be all right,” Miranda said stiffly, gathering her books and getting to her feet as well.

“We’ll take it slow,” Lavender told her. “And if at any time you don’t feel comfortable about it, I will stop coming. All you have to do is talk to me.”

Miranda kicked a rock in her path, still clutching her books tightly. “You’re different than I expected you to be,” she admitted, and Lavender was pretty certain that was a begrudging compliment.

As they walked back to the cottage, Lavender felt a renewed sense of determination blooming within her. She knew building a relationship with Miranda would take time and patience, but she was willing to invest all she had into nurturing that bond. And Miranda now seemed open to at least trying.

When they reached the cottage, Kendrick greeted them at the door with a warm smile, his dark gaze flickering between Lavender and Miranda. “Did you have a good time?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, it was wonderful.” Miranda hesitated momentarily before surprising them both by taking Lavender’s hand briefly before letting it go. “Thank you for the books,” she whispered.

“You’re so welcome,” Lavender replied. “I hope you like them.”

Miranda nodded and headed inside, and Kendrick held Lavender’s gaze. “It went well?”

“Better than I expected,” she answered, wanting so much to ask if she could come inside but not wanting to push things. She had made more headway than she expected, and she should just be happy with that.

Kendrick seemed to feel the same way. She could see the longing in his eyes. “I have to see you,” he whispered. “Can you meet me at the gazebo tonight? Around nine?”

She nodded, her heart soaring. “Yes. I’ll be there!”