Chapter Nine

The night was cold and balmy and the thin dress and undergarments that Morgan was wearing were doing no good against the elements. Her body was covered in goose flesh as she made her way down the Roxton's long country drive. At the rate she was going she figured that it would take her three days on foot to get to London. Once she got close to a main road she hoped she could catch a ride. The last thing she wanted was to be brought back to the Roxton Estate…she didn't want to be anywhere where she wasn't wanted.

Morgan made her way down the road, sharp stones cutting her feet. She hadn't been able to find her shoes in the dark and now she was paying for it. She'd have to make bandages for her feet in the morning. She reached the end of the drive and started down the road. Morgan decided to walk a few miles more before finding shelter for the night. She'd start out early the next day.

She thought back on what she had just heard. Lord Roxton had been trying to convince his wife to adopt Morgan and she had said no…a tear rolled down her cheek. She had fooled her heart again into thinking that someone had wanted her, had wanted to adopt her. "Stupid girl!" She said aloud. "To think someone would want little worthless you…don't you ever think again that anyone would ever love you?" Once she reached three miles away from the Roxton house, she sat down under some large pine trees and leaned against the tree trunk. Ten minutes later she was asleep.

The next morning John Roxton awoke. His wife lay beside him, a picture of serenity. She always looked at peace when she slept now, much different from their Plateau days. Roxton knew how much Marguerite hated the Plateau at first, and there were times now he wished he were still there. Maybe if they hadn't come back to England then Morgan wouldn't be gone.

John got up slowly, not wanting to wake Marguerite up. She could use a few more hours of sleep since she took care of the boys all day. He wanted to see if Morgan was up and feeling better. A place in his heart felt better when he thought about her. What Marguerite said last night wasn't true, he knew that Morgan was filling a part of her heart as well, he just had to make her see that. He left his room and tiptoed down the hall to an open door.

"Morgan?" He went into the room… "Morgan? Are you here?" He looked around. Her dress was gone and the bed looked as though she had left in a hurry. He was befuddled, why did she go…she was hurt badly.

Frantically he started to search all the rooms. Had she left the house…or was she still here, maybe she had gone outside. He ran to the terrace and looked out over the grounds: no sign of Morgan. After thoroughly searching his home from top to bottom he realized she had left. She must have heard the conversation he and Marguerite had had.

If he could have kicked himself, he would have. How stupid of them to have had that conversation in her room. The last thing an orphan wants to hear is someone saying that they aren't wanted. He had unknowingly broken her heart. Morgan probably had felt used…they had cared for her and were just being nice to a poor orphan. He knew that's what had happened…he had kicked her while she was down.

John Roxton wasn't about to let her get away without first explaining himself. He had to find her, because he did want her. He had wanted to adopt her, he wanted a daughter, and more important there was something that drew him to her. He couldn't put his finger on why he was drawn to her, but he knew that she needed to be a part of a family as much as he wished her to be a part of his. If only he could make Marguerite see that. He would have to explain his feelings to her, and turn a phrase that she often used. "Nothing is a coincidence."