She said it as if the two young chambermaids were not in the room and missed the look of pure contempt that passed between them.
Mared did not miss it and pressed her lips together to keep herself from chastising Miss Douglas as she was wont to do more often than not—the woman had absolutely no regard for anyone but herself.
She walked to the first trunk. It was open, and from it spilled silk drawers and camisoles, brocade and poplin gowns, embroidered slippers, Spencer jackets, and nightclothes. How could Miss Douglas possibly miss anything amid so many articles of clothing? Mared bent over, stuffed everything haphazardly into the trunk, and shut it with a slight kick of her foot.
She straightened, winked slyly at the chambermaids, and announced cheerfully, “All is in order.”
“Splendid!” Miss Douglas said airily, and stood, indicating she was ready to be dressed. “By the by, Miss Lockhart, I have left two old gowns in the dressing room. One is gold, the other a pale cream silk. They require some repair, and I should think a letting out of the seams, as ye are thicker than me. If ye are capable of the repair, ye may claim them for yer own use, for I’ve no need of them.”
Fabulous, Mared thought. They’d make bonny beds for her dogs.
“In addition, ye’ll find the housekeeping uniforms in the wardrobe of the first room on the third floor. There should be two in all. Mrs. Craig was buried in the third.”
“Thank ye,” Mared muttered.
“All right, then. I’ve only these few things here when I’ve finished dressing.” She discarded her dressing gown and stood with her arms out wide, as the poor chambermaid struggled to fit the blue gown over her head.
Mared rolled her eyes and proceeded to gather up the last of Miss Douglas’s things, which the thinner of the two chambermaids took from her with a smile. So Mared stood feeling useless, until there was a rap at the door.
“Answer, Miss Lockhart,” Miss Douglas commanded from the bow of her ship.
Mared walked to the door and flung it open, and her false heart leapt to her throat.
Payton was on the other side, leaning against the doorjamb, one leg crossed over the other ankle, arms folded across his chest. At present, she utterly despised him. But the man certainly had a way of looking entirely too masculine. He could, occasionally, make her rather weak in the knees. He could, apparently, do so at this very moment, even as she stood despising him.
He frowned when she did not speak immediately. “Have ye forgotten how to address yer laird, Miss Lockhart?”
Victory through kindness. “Of course no’. How do ye do, milord?” she asked, and sank into a very deep curtsey.
He watched her rise up. “That’s a bit too lavish an address, would ye no’ agree?”
Mared smiled. “If ye say it is, milord.”
Payton frowned.
Mared smiled harder.
“Oh, Payton! Is it ye, then? Diah! Just a moment—I am being dressed,” Miss Douglas called.
He sighed, shifted his gaze to Mared, who could not help the impertinent smile on her lips—she so enjoyed seeing his displeasure.
“What is it, then?” he growled, obviously succumbing to the pressure of her kindness. “Why do ye stand and gawk? Ye should see to yer mistress.”
“Oh, I rather suppose I should!” she chirped and turned away from the door and marched into the room, just as Miss Douglas spoke.
“Payton, do come in. I’m quite decent now,” she said.
Payton pushed past Mared.
His cousin was standing in the middle of the room with the chambermaid on her knees, straightening the hem of her traveling gown. “I feared ye’d forgotten that I am to leave today,” she said, smiling at Payton.
“I’d no’ forget, Sarah.” He walked across the room to her, kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I’m sorry to see ye take yer leave—it seems as if ye belong at Eilean Ros.”
“Don’t be silly, darling. I belong in Edinburra!” she trilled happily. “I do so miss the society there.”
He smiled thinly and sprawled lazily across her chaise longue, propping himself on one elbow and letting his boots hang off the end as he watched the maid straighten Miss Douglas’s hem. “I owe ye a debt of gratitude for coming to my aid when Mrs. Craig died, Sarah. I canna thank ye enough.”
“Why ever thank me?” she asked laughingly. “Ye resolved your problems all on yer own. I rather despaired that ye would, for there is no good help to be had in these parts.”
Another look flowed between the two chambermaids.
“And now, mo ghraidh, as we’ve found a suitable replacement for yer Mrs. Craig, the only thing left is to find ye a suitable match,” Miss Douglas blithely continued. “I do wish ye would so that I might rest easy in Edinburra,” she added, and satisfied with her hem, she shooed the chambermaid away and went to stand in front of the floor-length mirror.