“I’m really rather fond of Miss Crowley,” she continued as she admired herself, turning this way and that. “She’d be a bonny mistress of Eilean Ros.”
That comment startled Mared so thoroughly that she dropped the silver hand mirror she was holding, and it landed with a loud thud on the floor.
Everyone in the room turned to look at her. With a shrug, she smiled nervously. “How clumsy of me.”
“Have a care, Miss Lockhart,” Miss Douglas sniffed.
Mared frowned down at the mirror. This was insanity. She wanted Payton to offer for Beitris…at least she had until he’d imprisoned her and forced her into indentured servitude. Now she wasn’t entirely certain what she wanted.
It didn’t help that Payton had leaned back on the chaise and propped his hands behind his head to watch her. “Perhaps,” he said, his gaze steady on her, “I’ll have her and her family to supper.”
Mared instantly stooped down to retrieve the blasted mirror. She could feel her face flaming—Beitris, here? Her good friend would see her as nothing more than a lowly servant! And to think she’d once sought to put Beitris before this detestable fool! Oh, and how very well he knew it, damn him!
“That would be delightful, Payton!” Miss Douglas cooed. “I do so think Miss Crowley would be a perfect match for ye. She’s quite sweet tempered and very well behaved. Do ye think she is? A good match, that is?”
“Aye,” he said, still watching Mared when she popped up again, holding the silver mirror. “None better around the lochs. Miss Crowley shall make a fine wife.”
Mared gaped at him. He lifted a brow, silently challenging her. But one of the chambermaids walked by and gave Mared a bit of a nudge and a warning look that jarred her back to her senses and her place. She tossed the mirror into one of the open trunks.
“Well I, for one, am quite happy to hear ye say so,” Miss Douglas said, oblivious to anything but her reflection in the mirror. “There was a time when I despaired of ye making a poor decision,” she said, leaning forward to pinch her cheeks. “And now that ye’ve set that matter to rights, I shall expect to receive a letter from ye soon, relaying the happiest of news.”
“Aye,” he said, and suddenly gained his feet. “I shall leave ye to yer dressing. I’ll be in the foyer when ye are ready to depart.”
“Very well,” Miss Douglas said as she busily admired herself in the vanity mirror. Payton kissed her cheek once more. When he turned toward the door, he caught Mared’s eye and, holding her gaze without expression, quit the room.
Ten
I t seemed like hours later that Miss Douglas’s many things were finally packed. The woman had more possessions than most families could possibly own.
When all the trunks were at last carried down, Mared stayed behind to clean the room. By virtue of her family’s declining fortune, Mared and her mother had learned to clean and to do so efficiently, for old castles were rather hard to keep tidy. But she had no intention of truly cleaning a blooming thing in this house and tidied Miss Douglas’s room by tossing a few things here and there, behind chairs and under the bed. And then, feeling quite emotionally and physically exhausted, she lay down on Miss Douglas’s bed and had a bit of a nap.
She awoke a half hour later, quite refreshed, and picked up the two discarded gowns Miss Douglas had left behind, wadded them like dirty linens, stuffed them under her arm, and took them to her room. She’d decide what to do with them later.
In the first room on the third floor, which was bare save one wardrobe, she found the housekeeper’s uniform: black gown with long black sleeves, white apron, and a white cap with black trim that Mared, in silent defiance, refused to wear. But once she donned the uniform and peered at herself in the mirror she thought the uniform was not as bad as it might have been, and thought it really went rather well with her walking boots. It did not, however, fit her very well. It was too snug in the bosom and too wide at the hip. But Mared scarcely cared—she’d wear rags if she could.
Dressed in the housekeeper’s gown, she determined she should meet the two chambermaids and make a proper introduction. She wandered the entire house, finally finding the two lassies on the basement floor, folding linens. Both curtsied quickly when Mared paused in the doorway.
“Good day. I’m Mared,” she said, walking into the linen closet, her hand extended.
The small, dark-haired girl introduced herself as Rodina. Una was the chubby lass with the red hair and apple cheeks. They both looked at her expectantly.
“Well then!” Mared said brightly, clasping her hands together and rocking a bit on her feet. “I’m not entirely certain how this shall unfold, but if ye’ve any questions of me, please do ask.”