Chapter 11
Elspeth retired to her room after the meal, as Struan suggested.
But she hadn’t gone to bed, because she’d thought that he’d…
well, join her at some point. Agnes helped her loose and brush her hair, then dress in a modest nightrail, then left.
Elspeth quickly removed it and then put on the flimsy silk gown Averill had given her.
She was too mortified to ask the maid to dress her in it, because really no one but her husband should ever see her in it.
Once dressed, she waited.
And waited.
But Struan never appeared. Never knocked.
Never even made a sound from the other side of the connecting door.
She’d been pleased about the private door when she first saw it.
It meant that certain…visits wouldn’t be noted by anyone else in the household.
While there was nothing wrong with a man visiting his wife’s room, obviously, she was shy about the idea of people keeping count.
But the candle grew shorter and shorter, until the flame sputtered in a pool of wax in the holder.
Elspeth fought off sleep as long as she could, and then dozed, though she woke frequently, sometimes due to a sound like a creak of the floor somewhere, or the snap of an ember in the fireplace.
She’d misunderstood something, obviously.
Which was not a surprise, since Elspeth didn’t have any experience.
In the morning, she woke late, thanks to her restless night.
No one had come in, either because no one expected her to rise by now, or because the idea of disturbing the lady of the house was anathema.
She saw a bell cord in one corner. But rather than rise and pull it immediately, Elspeth instead got out of bed and removed the gown she’d put on the night before.
After finding her original nightrail, she put it on and then rang the bell.
“Does my husband usually break his fast downstairs, or in his own chambers?” she asked after Agnes came in with a breakfast tray, and then set it down to help her dress for the day.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” the maid replied. “He’s not been in residence since I got my position, and I’ve not heard of any prior habits.”
“Oh, yes, of course that would be the case.” Struan’s habits may also have changed greatly since he left Linneliath to join the army.
“Early this morning he just stopped in the kitchen to take some food along with him,” Agnes shared. “He wanted to ride out and see the property.”
“That’s understandable,” Elspeth said. “It’s been a long time since he’s seen his home.”
Part of her was a little sad that he hadn’t asked her to join him.
But then again, it was so late in the morning.
Perhaps he had waited as long as he could.
There was also the sad fact that Elspeth didn’t ride at all, having grown up in the confines of a city where transportation was always available.
And while he was attending to his duties of seeing the property and reconnecting with the tenants and the locals, she also had a task before her: learning about the house itself.
“Once I’m done eating,” she told Agnes, “I must speak with the housekeeper as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And I wish it to be known that I never sleep so late. All the travel has unmoored me from my routine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” This time the maid gave her a little smile, one that suggested she didn’t think it was travel that caused Elspeth’s fatigue.
But Elspeth was not about to confide anything of her personal thoughts to a stranger, and she certainly wasn’t going to discuss anything of what passed between her and Struan—or what didn’t pass.
A short while later, Elspeth followed Agnes downstairs to the part of the house where the servants worked in the kitchen, the pantries, and whatnot. There, Mrs Negus gave her a deep curtsey, a move that looked unfamiliar on the older woman’s sturdy frame.
“Good morning, mistress. It is my duty to hand over the keys, and to give you a full accounting of the household.” She offered a large ring to Elspeth, who took it with a nod.
There must’ve been at least two dozen keys on the large brass ring, from the heavy and ornate one that must lock the front doors to the house to several tiny ones in brass and silver, which would open certain drawers in a desk or a tea caddy or perhaps a jewelry box.
Elspeth would attach the keyring to a chain later, so that she might wear them as needed.
“Thank you for this,” she said. “I’m sure you carried out all of the household responsibilities to your utmost in the absence of a lady.
” It was only in that moment that a thought occurred to Elspeth, which should’ve occurred to her far earlier.
“From whom did you take over the management of these keys? Had my husband been married previously?” But surely he would have mentioned if he had a wife before.
“Oh no, ma’am. He’d been engaged, but she—” And here Mrs Negus visibly checked her flow of words.
Engaged! Elspeth’s smile faltered for a moment.
But then the housekeeper started again, “I’ve been in charge since the master’s mother passed away, over fifteen years now.”
“Ah. Then you must know everything there is to know, and I rely on your wisdom as I settle in. Do you have the household account book? I’d like to see what state everything is in and what the household budget is so we may ensure that there’s no disruption.
And perhaps you will apprise me of the master’s preferences and expectations in matters of meals, entertaining, and houseguests.
” For Elspeth knew none of these things, thanks to the fact that she’d gone from spinster daughter to gentleman’s wife in the space of a breath.
Over the course of a normal courtship, she would have learned about her husband-to-be, but there had simply been no time at all, and Struan was not a forthcoming man. She was lucky to have the housekeeper to speak with, and said so.
Mrs Negus gave a nod at the compliment, though there was still a trace of wariness in her eyes.
Elspeth guessed the reason. Having been more or less in charge of the house for over a decade, to say nothing of the previous years in which she had doubtless also had great control, it would be an abrupt change.
Many women would resent a new and inexperienced mistress stepping in, having all the authority of a wife.
She slipped the large brass ring over her arm, like a bracelet designed for giants. “Of course I will need you to show me what all of these keys unlock. We have a busy day ahead of us, so let’s begin, shall we?”
The housekeeper bowed her head once, and Elspeth got the sense that this genuflection contained considerably more respect than the initial curtsey.
“Aye, ma’am. Please follow me.”
Elspeth might not know anything about being a wife, but she knew plenty about running a household, and she already felt a bit more comfortable with the keys to this one. Doubtless, the rest would come.
* * * *
Several hours later, Elspeth stretched her neck from side to side. Account books were not for the faint of heart! But she was pleased with what she’d seen, even if she was sure she could improve the efficiency of some aspects of the house.
“Everything seems to be in order. I do intend to make some changes and improvements to the house and the gardens. But that is in no way a rebuke to the fine efforts of everyone here, and I hope that you’ll pass on my compliments to the staff.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I shall,” Mrs Negus said. “They will be grateful… Begging your pardon, ma’am, but your arrival yesterday was a surprise.”
“I’m sure!” Elspeth replied. “If you had told me last month that I would be a wife this month, I would sooner have believed that I could sail to the moon.”
“So it was a whirlwind courtship, then?”
“It was a lightning strike courtship,” Elspeth confessed.
“Str—that is, Mr MacInnes chose me of all the young ladies in Edinburgh, and though I don’t know why he did so, I know better than to question my good luck.
I will be the best wife in all of Scotland.
” Elspeth smiled, then registered an odd look in the housekeeper’s eyes.
“Oh! I beg your pardon. Are you married? I didn’t mean to imply that other women were not good wives. ”
The housekeeper chuckled now. “Be at ease, ma’am. I’m not married. But even if I were, I shouldn’t take it amiss. Newlyweds think the whole world is roses. I’m glad the young master found a good match. I’ve known him since the day he was born.”
“And I not nearly so long,” Elspeth said. “But that will change.”
She hoped.
Leaving the realm of the kitchen, she returned to the main part of the house. She asked a passing footman for Struan’s whereabouts. He informed her that the master had just gone into his study, and directed her there.
Struan was leaning over a desk strewn with open ledger books. He straightened up when he saw her, and asked if she was settling in.
“Yes, thank you. I spoke at length with Mrs Negus. We’ll get along well.”
“That’s good to hear,” Struan said.
She said, more tentatively, “There is a thing I wanted to discuss. I thought you would come to my room last night, it being the first night we were both here, where we shall live together.”
He had the grace to look abashed. “I should have reminded you I wouldn’t come to you. I thought you might be tired, and you would still want some time to adjust to your new surroundings.”
“Oh, I see.”
“In fact, I will wait a few days…nights…longer. You’ll be busy, and your new life will entail a lot of attention, and I don’t wish to, um…” He trailed off.
“I understand,” she said, though she didn’t exactly. “We can discuss it at a later time.”
“Yes.” He looked relieved.
“And today you reacquainted yourself with Linneliath?”
“Yes,” he said, more warmly. “It was good to see it. The people and the land, and the moors. The sea. I know it’s not a pretty landscape, but—”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Elspeth said. “I’m used to the city, so all the open sky is impressive. I hope that you’ll show me around soon?”
“Tomorrow, if you like,” Struan said. “I’ve got more tenants to visit, but they’d probably be more happy to see you.”
“I’d love that.” She beamed at him, so excited by the idea of being beside him as they traveled through their home ground for the first time. “That is, if you don’t mind a carriage, because I’m not able to ride.”
“At all?” he asked, surprised.
“I never learned.”
“We’ll have to remedy that soon. But for tomorrow, I’ll tell the men to have the carriage out.”
“When should I be ready in the morning?”
“Er…eight? If that’s not too early.”
“Not at all. I never sleep in. This morning was an anomaly. At home—I mean, at my father’s house—I’d always wake as early as possible, because there was so much to do.”
“Like laundry,” he muttered.
Elspeth blinked in surprise. “Well, yes. Only on laundry day, obviously.”
“You won’t be doing that here.”
“Oh? But I’m good at it, and extra hands—”
“You’re the lady of the house,” he said, firmly closing the door on her argument. “Direct the servants on particular tasks if you must, but I won’t have it said my wife is doing the same chores as the scullions.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. Well, there will be plenty to occupy me anyway. Linneliath is about ten times larger than Father’s house, and I intend to make many improvements so the house is more comfortable…if that’s acceptable?” she added, worried that she was asserting too much authority.
But he just said, “You’re the lady of the house. Do what you like.”
Something niggled at her, and then she realized what it was. “How did you know I helped with the laundry?”
After a long pause, he said, “I saw you doing it once.”
“You did? When? Why?”
“It was shortly before we met at the church. I…I wanted to see you.”
Elspeth smiled, thinking how sweetly romantic that was—that he knew he would soon marry her, but he still couldn’t resist an extra glance beforehand. “I wish that I’d been a little more presentable when you peeked.”
“You were lovely,” he told her. “You were laughing about something with your maids, and I could hear it from where I stood. Your laugh is…”
“What?” she asked.
“Enchanting. You sounded so damned happy.” He looked away, cleared his throat. “I hope you’ll be happy here someday, Ellie.”
“I’m happy here today,” she told him, wondering why he seemed suddenly reticent. “I hope you’re happy as well.”
He nodded, and she wished she believed him.