Mared slapped his arm from her waist and stuck the candle between them. “I didna come here to rescue a bloody fool. I came to hear for myself why ye put me in such jeopardy. And if ye tell me true, to bring ye to supper.”
“Supper!” Hugh said eagerly, then sighed at her stoic look, and put his hands on his waist. “Ye donna look any worse for it, on my word—ye are indeed a beautiful woman, Mared. I do think ye are bonnier than whence I last laid eyes on ye, aye. Ye seem different somehow.”
She was different, all right, and in so many ways. She gestured toward the stairs. Hugh caught her hand and with a charming smile, put it on his arm. “If I’m to escort ye, allow me to do so properly,” he said and gazed at her lustfully.
They exited the dark underground corridor, and as they made their way up to the main floor, Hugh tried to convince her that it was she he had thought of, her image that had kept him on course when it seemed there was no hope. Aye, it was Mared who had brought him back to Talla Dileas instead of London, where, he reminded her, he might have sold the beastie and kept it all to himself.
By the time they reached the dining room, Mared was laughing at his fervent whispers of utter devotion, for which one could not help but laugh at Hugh.
Grif mistook her laugh for something altogether different, and clapped Hugh on the shoulder the moment they entered the room, and hauled him to a seat between himself and Liam. “Ye’ll keep yer distance from my sister, aye?” he warned him.
“Aye,” Hugh said, boldly winking at Mared across the table.
Over supper—which, Mared couldn’t help noticing, was rather poor fare compared to what even the servants ate at Eilean Ros—the family discussed their plans. It was agreed they’d all go to Edinburgh—including Hugh—save Anna and Grif, due to Anna’s pregnancy. Natalie would remain behind to help Anna.
They would sell the gold and rubies at once and pay their debts, then have the emerald cut into pieces to be sold as they needed. The emerald lay in the middle of the supper table. Mared couldn’t keep her eyes from it. That was the thing she was to have found. Not a’ diabhal. Not death. An emerald. A bloody dowry! How could a reference to that magnificent jewel have been so terribly misinterpreted as a curse?
“How much shall the gold and rubies bring?” Aila asked.
“Tens of thousands,” Grif assured her.
“Less five percent,” Hugh hastily reminded him, for which he received a rather harsh glare from the Lockhart men.
“And the emerald?” Aila asked.
Grif glanced at it. “I canna be certain, but I would think tens of thousands more.”
They all stared at the emerald, their thoughts on how close they had come to losing it.
Later, they determined it was safe to leave Hugh unlocked, for as he pointed out, he had no money or means of transportation, and therefore, was entirely dependent on them to take him to Edinburgh and give him his due. Carson, still rather miffed, agreed that Hugh could have use of one of the old servants’ rooms at the far end of the house until they left for Edinburgh.
All of the Lockharts were eager to put their poverty behind them, and they decided they would do so at once. They would leave two days hence.
That night, safely ensconced in her old tower chamber, Mared paced before her warm hearth, her braid swinging above her hip as she turned, again and again.
At last she took up pen and paper.
To the Right Honorable Laird Douglas, Master of Sheep and Other Dubious Livestock, Greetings from Talla Dileas.
I hope this letter finds you well.
She glanced up, looked out the narrow window to the star-filled night. How are you? she wanted to ask. Will you sleep at night? Who will turn down your bed and straighten the linens the next morn once you’ve thrashed about? Who will launder your clothing?
The shock of her abrupt change in fortune had begun to wear down, and now all Mared could seem to think of was Payton…and where this reversal in her family’s fortune left them. They had enjoyed a magical weekend—she had thought it marked a change in their mutual history. She supposed she had thought she would marry him. But now, she wasn’t so very certain of that. Didn’t she owe it to herself to experience the life that had been denied her because of that curse?
I am pleased to inform you that we are to Edinburgh on Thursday so that we may reclaim our fortune and our destiny and pay our many debts. Naturally, we will pay our debt to you first and foremost.
She paused and gazed out at the stars again. How can I leave you behind? How can I not? I am free now, Payton. I am free to travel and to dance and to walk among citizens of the world without fear of censure.
We shall reside in Edinburgh for at least a fortnight while we tidy our affairs. I hope in that time you will keep your sheep from grazing our land, for we may bring home more cattle. Father has spoken of it with great enthusiasm, in spite of Griffin’s assertion that the market for Highland cattle is dwindling.