Phoebe looked at the men milling about, laughing loudly, slapping one another on the back, and generally ignoring the more civilized niceties. “Yes,” Phoebe agreed. “I see your point.”
Elise took Phoebe’s hand and led Phoebe through the crowd. “The women you are about to meet are rather unique. Teachers, healers, even one political activist. Each a leader in her own right.”
“Educated women, out here?” Phoebe asked.
“In their own way,” Elise said, and pushed through a wall of men.
“Och, m’lady,” one man said, jumping out of her way.
She nodded, moving on. “Only two actually read, however.”
A serving girl carrying a tray rattling with mugs and glasses of containing a variety of drinks stopped just ahead of them. Phoebe snatched one of the glasses as she passed the girl. Phoebe lifted the glass and was taking a large swig just as Elise brought them to a halt near the hearth.
“Ladies,” Elise said, “may I present the bride, Phoebe MacGregor, Marchioness of Ashlund.”
Phoebe sputtered and wheezed as the scotch blazed a scorching path down her wind pipe. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she swung her gaze onto the women. Through bleary eyes she saw their attentions’ were firmly fixed on her. She stared back.
“Rather odd the first time you hear it, isn’t it?” Elise asked, and the women broke into gales of laughter.
The faces of the women before Phoebe blurred. She sighed and took another gulp of scotch.
“Phoebe,” Elise said gently, “perhaps you would like to retire for the evening?”
Phoebe surveyed the crowded room. “What time is it?” she asked even as the clock on the mantle chimed. She grimaced. “By heavens, must they make such racket?”
“It's nine o’clock,” Elise replied. “Would you like to eat a little something before bed? You haven’t had a thing all evening.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Phoebe said, “but I have, indeed, had something.” She finished off the contents of her glass. Phoebe didn't miss the look the duchess exchanged with one of the women. “Don't trouble yourself, ma'am,” Phoebe said, “I'm quite capable of holding my liquor. Much to my misfortune,” she added under her breath.
“Still,” Elise persisted, “let’s have something to eat.”
“Thank you, but no.”
“Bed then?” Elise said.
Phoebe thought for a moment. “Yes, I think that would be a fine idea. Where am I to sleep?”
“Come along, I’ll show you.”
There was a moment Phoebe thought she would be ill. The long corridor they traveled seemed to be a maze. She didn't recall such twists and turns in her previous stay at Brahan Seer. At last, they stepped into a brightly lit corridor much wider than the one they had been in and she took a deep breath.
“Are you all right?” Elise asked.
Phoebe nodded. Elise gave her an unsure look, but continued down the hallway. She stopped in front of the fourth door, opened it, and stepped back, indicating Phoebe should enter ahead of her. Phoebe stepped inside. A fire burned in the hearth on the far right wall. Four candles burned in the candelabra that sat on a table against the wall in front of her. A canopied bed sat to the left, and on the silk cover lay scattered the petals of various flowers. The nightgown laid out with obvious care on the foot of the bed, however, is what snagged her attention.
“A bridal chamber,” she muttered.
Elise whisked past her without a word, yet, Phoebe knew the duchess understood she had forgotten the reason for tonight’s revelries.
“Shall I have a bath drawn for you?”
“Good God, no.” Phoebe gasped. “Oh, forgive me, Your Grace, I didn’t—”
“No bath, it is, then.” Elise turned down the bed. “We're in the south wing, in case you wondered.” She stopped and looked at Phoebe. “Do you plan on standing in the doorway all night?”
Phoebe looked about her as if suddenly realizing where she was. “No, ma’am, of course not.” She stepped into the room, despite a sudden desire to turn and run. “The, er, south wing, you say?” she said, taking each step as if it were her first.
“Yes.” Elise fluffed the pillows rather vigorously. “On the third floor.”
“Ahh,” Phoebe said.
Once no more fluffing of the bedcovers and pillows was humanly possibly, Elise straightened. “Let me help you out of that dress.” She started toward her.
“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, I prefer to do it myself.”
Elise stopped. “I can have someone sent up."
Phoebe shook her head. “Really, I prefer to be alone for a little while.”
“It's customary for someone to sit with the bride, you know.”
“I know. I appreciate your concern, but really, I am best left to myself now.”
Elise nodded. “If Kiernan remains below, I'll check on you a little later.”
Phoebe grabbed her arm as she passed. “I beg you, Elise, don't hurry him.”
Elise patted the hand that gripped her. “Perhaps a little sleep will do you good.”
“Indeed.”
Elise went to the door, but paused in the doorway. “If you need anything…”
“I promise to call for you.”