Mared would lie with her arms wrapped around her pillow, wondering what he did with his days, picturing him dining alone and riding along the base of Ben Cluaran.
She heard of him from time to time. Her mother—who had returned with Father as soon as their affairs were handled to settle all their debts—wrote often, as did Anna, and they would mention Payton now and again. Mother reported that he had accepted the payment of their debt and had given them written confirmation that they were cleared of owing him as much as a pence. She did not say if he’d asked about her.
Anna wrote that he regularly accompanied Miss Crowley to Sunday services at the kirk, and that everyone speculated there would be a wedding very soon. Even Grif wrote once, saying that Douglas had persuaded him to lend a hand in building a new barn for Mr. Craig, and that he had been quite surprised that Douglas was as skilled with a hammer and nails as he was.
Mared wasn’t surprised. She rather thought he could do anything, for he was that sort of man—powerful and immensely capable, as comfortable building a barn as he was hosting an important social affair.
Grif also reported that Payton had secured the funding necessary to complete his distillery, and that construction was already under way. Mared rather guessed he spent his time overseeing that—he was quite proud of his whiskey, despite its having almost killed him.
She’d written him twice since coming to Edinburgh, both times to tell him all the things she’d seen and the places she’d gone. He’d only responded to her letters once, and it had been a terse reply.
She kept the letter in a jeweled box on her dressing table and reread it often. Almost every night, in fact, because she would take the luckenbooth from the silk wrapper and wear it to whatever affair she was attending that night. The letter read:
My dear Miss Lockhart,
I am pleased to hear that Edinburgh suits you well. I never doubted it. We are all quite well, but the dogs rather miss you.
You will be delighted to know that Una has consented to marry Mr. Harold Fuquay from Loch Leven. She leaves our employ at the end of this month and will serve as a maid to my cousin Neacel and his bride. We begin shearing soon, which should please you, as the sheep will not be grazing on your land. I can assure you that they have not “ruined” the landscape for your cows as you feared. Do have a care for the residents of Edinburgh and try not to startle them out of their wits.
Douglas
Aye, Mared thought of Payton often and held him dear in a quiet corner of her heart. But she rather supposed he had carried on without her. How very lost that made her feel.
But every morning, she rose eager to know what the day might bring and pushed him and the sadness from her mind.
There was so much she wanted to see and do, so much she had missed! She scoured Edinburgh Castle, roamed the grounds of Holyroodhouse Palace, and walked along the castle grounds to Charlotte Square where she resided. At night she attended one fete after another and enjoyed herself immensely.
From time to time, Mared would see Hugh at a soiree or ball. Like her, he’d opted to stay in Edinburgh after he’d collected his due for returning the beastie. When she saw the scoundrel, sometimes he’d scarcely acknowledge her presence before disappearing into one of the rooms where the gentlemen gambled—she’d heard that he’d parlayed his share of the fortune into a greater fortune at the gaming tables. Other times, he’d be the first to ask her to stand up with him and would make her laugh by whispering his devotion in her ear. He was something of an enigma.
She rather supposed she’d see him tonight, too, for tonight was the Aitkin ball, an event that would purportedly draw at least two hundred. Mared could scarcely wait. As Ellie had declined the invitation in favor of staying with Duncan, Liam was to escort her.
She donned the celery green and plum gown with the matching slippers and Ellie wound her hair into an elaborate coif, wrapped her head with ribbons in the Grecian style, and clasped a generous piece of the emerald around her neck. Her family had given her the necklace, along with a pair of earbobs.
“Oh my, Mared,” Ellie said, standing back to gaze at her, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you, I swear it.”
“Ellie, ye flatter me!” Mared laughed.
“No,” Ellie insisted, shaking her head in wonder. “Sometimes I can scarcely believe it is you. You’re like a different person entirely in all your finery.”
Ellie had no idea how different Mared truly was. She smiled warmly and kissed Ellie’s cheek fondly. “I’m the same person, Ellie, but I suppose a bit of silk and an emerald or two might make me appear a wee bit different.”
“Perhaps.” Ellie took in Mared’s gown and her jewels, and she smiled as Mared pinned the luckenbooth to her shoulder. “My guess is that there will be a rather long queue of men, and all of them inquiring as to the availability of space on Mared Lockhart’s dance card.”
Mared laughed gaily and picked up her wrap. “It’s all quite a dramatic turn of fate, is it no’?”