It was painted sky blue. The walls were made of big square panels and the ceiling cheerfully adorned with papier-maché ropes and bells painted white. It was a huge room. There were several trunks scattered about, and at the far end, an enormous mahogany vanity, one that, had it been at Talla Dileas, the Lockharts would have easily sold for one hundred pounds.
But Miss Douglas had brought quite a lot of clothing with her, and when Mared joined her she was, apparently, having some trouble deciding which of her many traveling gowns to wear for the drive to Edinburgh. Another plump chambermaid was holding up two gowns. Judging by her pained expression, she’d been holding the gowns for a long time.
“Ah, there ye are, Miss Lockhart,” Miss Douglas said with a sigh, glancing over her shoulder. “Ye may leave us, Beckwith.”
He gave her a click of the heels and a nod, and quietly quit the room.
“Honestly, I can’t decide,” she said, turning her attention to the gowns again, and glanced at Mared. “What is yer opinion, Miss Lockhart? Which of them goes well with my coloring?”
“The blue,” Mared said without hesitation or thought, but in the interest of leaving this room as quickly as possible.
“The blue? Indeed? I thought perhaps the yellow,” Miss Douglas said uncertainly, and stood back to study them critically, seemingly unaware that the poor chambermaid was struggling to keep them aloft for her inspection.
“The yellow is quite nice as well,” Mared said. “But I think ye must choose quickly, miss, lest the maid lose the use of her arms.”
“What?” Miss Douglas asked, then glanced at the girl. “Oh!” she said, suddenly aware of the poor creature, and nodded firmly. “The blue, then. Ye will dress me,” she said, pointing to the plump chambermaid, and returned to her vanity, plopping down on the brocade bench.
“Come in, come in, Miss Lockhart,” she said, leaning forward to examine her face closely in the mirror. “We’ll not accomplish a blessed thing with ye so far away.” She leaned back, turned her head slightly left, then right. “So he’s gone and put ye to work as the housekeeper, has he?”
“He has,” Mared said brightly so that she might hide the ire she felt as she walked into the middle of the room.
“Very good. It’s better this way. Ye can repay yer family’s debt and be done with it.”
She could be done with it, all right, and refrained from reminding Miss Douglas that her cousin was an ogre of the highest order who had convinced himself of his own self-importance.
“’Tis better this way,” Miss Douglas said again with a pert nod. “Infinitely better for all parties involved, I should think.”
“All parties?” Mared asked, unable to hold her tongue. “And what would ye mean by that?”
Miss Douglas looked at her again and blinked innocently. “Mean? Isn’t it obvious? I meant that ye are really in no position to be the wife of a Douglas laird, are ye? I suppose I mean only that—it would have been a grave mistake on Payton’s part to go through with that ridiculous betrothal.”
“There was no betrothal, but had there been, the grave mistake would have been mine,” Mared said tightly. “The Lockharts are sworn enemies of the Douglases.”
“I beg your pardon?” Miss Douglas asked with a laugh. “This has nothing to do with the history of the Lockharts or the Douglases. It is simply a matter of fact that Payton is a laird and a man of property and significant means. It wouldn’t do for him to marry a woman of…” She paused in her perusal of herself to flick her gaze over Mared. “Of insufficient means.”
Mared seethed at her insult. “The Lockhart means were made insufficient only by the actions of yer cousin.”
Miss Douglas laughed lightly and twisted on her bench to have a look at Mared directly. “That’s patently ridiculous, Miss Lockhart, and I think ye must know it! Everyone around the lochs knows that yer father has been steadily losing ground with his old ways and his notion of buying out the crofters, particularly when there is nothing to be gained from it but more debt. Had Payton not brought sheep to the lochs, certainly Mr. Sorley would have done so. I’ve heard he intends to bring some up from the Borders before the autumn.” She turned away, picked up something from her vanity, then held up a ring of keys. “Ye’ll be needing these,” she said.
In a supreme show of strength, Mared forced herself to walk across the room and take the keys, fighting the urge to toss them out the window. But she managed, and instead, she smiled and said, “Ye’ve come to know quite a lot about the lochs all the way from Edinburra, have ye no’, Miss Douglas?”
Miss Douglas bestowed a very dark frown on Mared. “I will forgive ye, Miss Lockhart, for not understanding yer place. But were ye a housekeeper in Edinburra, ye’d be dismissed for such impudence. Now then. Will ye please inspect the trunks and assure me that all is properly done and nothing is misplaced? I’ve scarcely had a moment to supervise the work.”