Chapter 4
Even with only two trunks, Elspeth had a little room left over, which she filled with some fabric and accoutrements that she had been intending for her trousseau.
However, now she would have to complete the sewing and stitching after her wedding occurred.
She closed the trunks, locked them, and then sat on her childhood trunk (the one that did not smell like cod) to consider her strange situation.
Together, she and Mairi had written or sought out and inquired of everyone they knew about Mr Struan MacInnes. Her extended family, friends, and neighbors collectively had provided the following facts:
From Uncle Nicholas: He had been a soldier in the British Army, fighting in France until fairly recently.
From Aunt Rosalind: He was known to be well off.
From the scullion Jock, who had it from the holster at the Bell Tavern, who had it from the local constable who patrolled the night shift: He had been involved in some mysterious event recently—not scandalous, but worthy of gossip in that it had involved a small group of men, a rather eccentric woman of the city, and a house on fire.
This last bit was the most interesting, for it happened in connection to another member of the ladies’ rights group to which Mairi belonged.
When Mairi heard the news, she said, “Oh, yes! The fire at the Ross house! I met Catriona Ross on several occasions at League meetings. There was something strange afoot this spring, but our chairwoman, Mrs Roberts, would not countenance any discussion. She feared it would generate bad press about our group.”
“Because a house caught on fire? Surely no one blames the ladies’ rights movement for that.”
Mairi said, “You’d be amazed at what blame can be placed at a woman’s feet when it’s convenient to do so. Do you not remember the matter of the apple in Eden?”
In any case, the connection to the League allowed the two sisters to lean upon the members for additional facts.
From what they were able to glean, the group of men including Struan MacInnes had saved Miss Ross from the fire, and therefore were lauded as heroes by most of the neighbors.
But evidently the local constables and magistrate had also been present at some point, and there was at least one dead body, giving the whole affair a slightly ominous cast.
“Perhaps Miss Ross will come to tea,” Mairi wondered aloud. “She surely wants to get out and enjoy a home that isn’t on fire.”
“I can make my lavender shortbread,” Elspeth offered.
“Pest, you’re marrying a stranger in a few days,” her sister said. “Leave aside the menu planning for a moment, would you?”
Aside from that, Elspeth had learned that the gentleman who’d offered for her owned a great house in the north of the country, possibly within view of the ocean.
Or on the moors. Or in the mountains. Or in a deep forest. Actually, no one in Edinburgh seemed to have a clear idea of where the man lived, other than that it was to the north.
This is not helpful information, Elspeth thought.
Most of Scotland was to the north. The fact that he was wealthy came up over and over in her various conversations, and everyone seemed to present this as the singular fact anyone needed to know.
Elspeth would’ve been glad to learn anything else, such as his appearance, or habits, or whether he objected to the smell of codfish (to choose a random example).
But such information was not forthcoming.
And in the end, it didn’t matter. Her father expressed such extreme delight about the marriage that Elspeth considered it an immutable fact about the universe, like the sun rising in the east, or crocuses blooming in spring.
Her stepsister, Averill, had seemed jealous initially, but was soon converted to the idea of Elspeth marrying first.
Later that day, Averill knocked on her door. “Elspeth, are you in there?”
“Yes, come in.” It was rare that Averill came up, or indeed showed interest in speaking with her at all.
Probably this was due to the fact that Elspeth’s room was on the top floor, on the same floor that housed the servants, though their accommodations were down the hall and past a green baize door to mark the boundary between family and hired help.
Elspeth’s room looked over the front of the house and the street beyond, and Elspeth enjoyed standing by one of the two dormer windows, looking down at the life bustling on the streets and the sidewalks below.
But other than Mairi, no one came to visit her there.
It wasn’t a shabby room, for Elspeth did not believe in shabby.
Everything was immaculately clean, and all the linens laundered regularly.
All the furniture in the room was there because her father deemed the pieces too old-fashioned to be tolerated by fashionable people.
There was an old oak bedstead, an ornate chair, and a chest, all from different eras.
Her small desk was at least three generations in the family.
The intensely fanciful carving of the desk legs and the drawer fronts made it clear that this was an item once fashionable in her great-grandmother’s day.
There was even a little gilt paint applied strategically to the drawer fronts, making the desk gleam in the candlelight.
Elspeth loved the desk, and wished she could bring it with her to her new home, but no provision had been made for furniture.
And technically, she did not own the desk—it was the property of her father.
Everything in the house was the property of her father, excepting only a few personal items of each lady.
In fact, one might say that Elspeth herself was the property of her father, at least until her marriage, although this was a fact that Elspeth did not think much about.
In any case, she would miss the desk.
Now Averill walked into the room, her nose wrinkling a bit in either surprise, or distaste, or both. She had her hands behind her back, but at that moment swept them in front of her to reveal a package tied with ribbon. “I got you a gift.”
“For me?”
“Naturally, you silly goose. You’re the one who is to be married! You need a gift like this. I’m sure you have none to match it in your trunks.” She shook the package a little bit, almost as if she intended to toss it into Elspeth’s lap.
Elspeth took it in her own hands before that could happen. “May I open it now?”
“Oh, yes, I want you to. I bought it especially with the occasion of your wedding night in mind.” At these words, her stepsister’s expression grew sly. “You do know what happens on the wedding night, don’t you?”
“Your mother sat me down earlier today and informed me.” Elspeth hadn’t enjoyed the conversation.
Her stepmother hadn’t either, to judge by her expression and the strain in her voice.
And Elspeth couldn’t say that the conversation had even been particularly enlightening.
The gist of it was that Elspeth was meant to lie down in her bed and allow her husband to do…
whatever it was he wanted to do, and she was to obey without complaint.
Elspeth never liked complaining anyway, and didn’t expect that she would like to complain to her new husband on the first night that they were joined as a couple.
So she assured her stepmother that she would do as instructed. That seemed to be sufficient.
Averill was shaking her head. “Oh, Mama would’ve told you what you ought to do, if you’re boring. But she didn’t tell you what you need to know.”
“And what is that?”
“Open your present.”
Elspeth undid the ribbon and carefully removed the paper wrapping.
It revealed a garment, folded up. It was made of some kind of silk, Elspeth guessed.
“My goodness, this must have been expensive.” Elspeth didn’t own anything made of silk.
Silk seemed an incredible extravagance, and it had no place in her daily life.
“Oh, it was worth it.” Her stepsister covered a giggle with one hand. “Shake it out and hold it up.”
Elspeth did so. The tiny square of folded fabric unfurled like a ship’s flag.
The garment turned out to be some sort of night rail, though it was so ethereal as to be almost a figment of the imagination rather than an actual piece of clothing one could wear.
Around the edges and the hemline of the garment, a slightly more substantial line of lace marked the outline of the gown, like an artist’s sketch that detailed what would eventually be painted in later.
Elspeth had the impression that if she were to put the gown on, it would conceal absolutely nothing, leaving her body completely visible, outlined by the lace.
“You must wear this on your wedding night,” her stepsister said. “It will drive your husband absolutely mad.”
“I don’t think that that’s a desirable outcome?” Elspeth said doubtfully.
“I mean mad with lust,” Averill went on, her eyes gleaming.
Averill was seventeen and must have read too many books not normally allowed to women.
“Mama spoke to you about duty. But men aren’t interested in duty.
They’re interested in pleasure. And if you don’t please your husband, he’ll look elsewhere, and it will be all your fault. ”
Elspeth certainly didn’t want to displease her husband. (She didn’t want to displease anyone.) “I don’t know that I—”
“When he sees you wearing this, he’ll be so randy at the sight that he’ll take you then and there. Men always think with their cocks, and if you’re going to be stuck on some endless moor for the rest of your life, you’ll at least want him to pay attention to you now and then.”
These were words Elspeth never ever thought of, put together in a sequence she’d never ever imagined.
“Averill! I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you. I know a lot more about men than you do, and trust me, this is the best thing you could do to ensure a successful marriage. Though your father—” (Averill never called him our father or my father) “—says he’s rich, and that will help.
” She sounded jealous as she spoke, and Elspeth wondered what her father might’ve told her stepmother and stepsister that he hadn’t seen fit to share with Elspeth herself.
“Thank you for the gift,” Elspeth said, recovering her manners. “Luckily I won’t have any trouble adding it to the trunk.”
“He’ll have to get you some proper gowns once you’re married. Those purple things you insist on wearing are truly hideous.”
Elspeth did not mention that it was Averill who’d purchased the vast quantity of the purple fabric a few years ago, only to decide that she didn’t like it after all when she saw it the next day.
Loath to waste the purchase, Elspeth made several items of clothing out of the fabric, despite also not liking the color at all.
Meanwhile, Averill was still talking. “Though, of course you’ll be up in the Highlands, so I don’t imagine anyone up there knows how to make a fashionable gown.
And of course, nothing compares to London.
” Her stepsister thought constantly about clothing and had an incredible collection of fashionable gowns.
She’d gone on and on about the modistes she’d seen on her recent long visit to London.
“I can sew my own,” Elspeth said.
“I wish I could see his face when he sees you wearing that,” her stepsister said with what Elspeth considered a shocking degree of curiosity. “I wonder if he’s a big man.”
“I don’t know how tall he is,” Elspeth said.
“I’m not talking about his height. I wonder how big he is.”
Elspeth realized that this related to the discussion regarding the wedding night, and the intricacies of the act she was supposed to engage in. Evidently, she lacked important details about the specifics. “I just hope that I can be a good wife to him.”
Averill sighed, disappointed in Elspeth’s response. Then she gave a little trilling laugh. “Well, I hope your wedding night is one to remember. And if it isn’t, it isn’t for any lack of effort on my part. You leave Friday, don’t you?”
Elspeth nodded. “Yes, that’s right. After the wedding.”
“The first of us to be married,” Averill said. “But not the last! I will have a fabulous debut, and I will make such an impression on the gentlemen of the city that I will surely have heaps of proposals.”
“I’m sure you will,” Elspeth said, aware that already her stepsister’s attention was returning to her own future, which was the only one she cared about.