Chapter 17 #2
When he didn’t speak, she matched his frown with one of her own.
“I’m not answering any of your questions,” she said, “until you’ve answered some of mine.”
With that, she grabbed the buckets, turned, and marched away, leaving him staring after her.
Veronica took the stairs to the second floor, hoping Elspeth wasn’t in her room. She was perilously close to tears and didn’t want anyone to witness them. She’d always been protective of what she felt, probably because she felt the emotions of others so keenly.
Entering her chamber, she was grateful to find it empty, and closed the door behind her.
After taking the mirror from the bureau, she walked into the sitting room and sat on one of the comfortable chairs near the window.
Slowly, she withdrew the mirror from its protective bag but kept the brown glass facing away from her.
Did she want to see a glimpse of her future again?
Was it even the future? Perhaps it was only her deepest wish given form.
Perhaps she wouldn’t see happiness at all.
Instead, she might witness Montgomery returning to Virginia alone.
She held the mirror up, then turned it, forcing herself to look into the reflection. The brown glass remained dark and murky. All she saw was the faint reflection of her face, her eyes too wide and almost fearful.
Had she imagined what she’d seen?
In the carriage, after the meeting at the Society the Mercaii, she’d still been suffering from the effects of whatever drug they’d given her. On her wedding night, she’d seen something, but Montgomery had interrupted her before she could study the reflection completely.
At the moment, she wanted to see her future. She wanted to see something more hopeful than what she felt.
The glass didn’t change.
She heard Elspeth come into the bedchamber, and it gave her enough time to compose herself. Before she could put the mirror into its bag, however, Elspeth peered around the doorway.
“What is that, Your Ladyship?”
Her heart sank when Elspeth walked to her side, reached down, and picked up the mirror. The other woman didn’t look into the reflection. Instead, her fingers fingered the diamonds on the edge of the mirror.
“It’s the Tulloch Sgàthán,” Elspeth said, her voice amazed. “I haven’t seen it since I was a little girl.”
“The Tulloch Sgàthán?” she asked, motioning to the adjoining chair. Elspeth took a seat, smiling down at the back of the mirror.
Veronica was vacillating between disappointment she hadn’t seen anything in the reflection and a surge of excitement that the mirror had been identified by Elspeth, of all people.
“Although I can’t remember all these bright stones,” Elspeth said. “It may not be the same one.” She glanced over at Veronica. “It belonged to my grandmother, Mary Tulloch.”
“You’re not looking in the mirror, Elspeth, why?”
The other woman smiled, looked down at the back of the mirror before handing it back to her.
“It’s the Tulloch Sgàthán,” Elspeth said, as if that were enough of an explanation.
“Does it tell the future?”
Elspeth smiled. “My granny said the mirror showed a woman a path. It was up to her whether to take it. So, I guess it does tell the future in a way.”
She stared down at the mirror.
“The stones are a new addition,” Elspeth said. “It didn’t have them when I was a child.”
“Have you ever looked at it?”
“I did, once, when I was a little girl. I saw myself as I am now, only a little older.” Elspeth’s smile broadened. “I had two little ones with me. It was enough of a look for me.”
She kept the mirror face down on her lap. “I can’t see anything anymore.”
Elspeth reached over and patted her on the knee, a curiously maternal gesture.
“If you can remember anything she might have said about it, please let me know.”
“You might ask her yourself, Your Ladyship.”
Startled, Veronica stared at her. “Your grandmother is still alive?”
Elspeth nodded. “She was on my last visit home. One of my brothers or sisters would have let me know if she’d died. She’s very old, but she’s spry. She lives outside Kilmarin, near Perth, where I was raised.”
“I thought you were from Lollybroch.”
Elspeth smiled and shook her head. “No, that’s my Robbie’s family. My own comes from Perth, and it’s homesick I am from time to time.”
“I know how that feels,” she said, remembering the two years in London.
“How do you come to have the Tulloch Sgàthán?” Elspeth’s cheeks flushed. “Begging your pardon, Your Ladyship, it’s not my place to ask.”
“It was by way of being a wedding gift,” she said, stretching the truth a bit.
“Have you never seen anything in it, Lady Fairfax?”
“I did, once,” she said. “Not now.” She placed the mirror back in the bag, pulling the drawstring tight. “I think, perhaps, for me it’s just a mirror.”
The other woman didn’t say anything. What could she say? That Veronica was being foolish? Or would Elspeth say, if she’d felt the freedom to do so, something like the expression often quoted by her father? The worth of a thing is known by the want of it.
Veronica wanted, very much, to see something in the Tulloch Sgàthán, and for that reason, it was priceless.