Chapter 25
A few days later, Elspeth received a letter written in Averill’s handwriting, which surprised her so much she actually blinked, assuming she would see Mairi’s familiar style when she opened her eyes.
No. It really was from Averill. The letter was short and mostly served to contain a formal invitation to a succession of events celebrating Averill’s impending engagement.
At least, that’s what it sounded like. Elspeth wasn’t sure, but there was a list of parties on one card, including a masquerade where the happy announcement would finally occur.
It sounded over-the-top, extravagant, and untraditional. In other words, very Averill.
She should go just to see the spectacle.
Mairi had also written, her letter a tiny folded square enclosed with the invitation. It said: Please come home.
Elspeth didn’t need more encouragement. She would go.
If Struan didn’t keep her here.
Keeping watch the rest of the afternoon, Elspeth cornered him as he walked back from the stable.
“There is a matter I must discuss with my husband,” she said.
“That means you’ll have to discuss it with me,” he replied without changing his pace.
It was difficult to keep up, since Struan’s legs were so much longer. “Will you not stop and talk?”
“I’m going to my study. You can talk at me there.” His jaw was set, and he hadn’t looked at her once.
In his study, Elspeth found him just as cold as he’d been outside. He pointed to the chair opposite his desk while he reached for a leather-bound ledger. “You have something to discuss. Discuss it.”
She held up the letter she’d been clutching. “I must go home. Apparently Averill is finally engaged. Or is about to be—the invitation isn’t terribly clear. I am invited to attend the festivities,” Elspeth said, looking out the window at the endless grey moors.
“And you must go?”
“I wish to go.”
“Do you?”
She glanced at him. His tone had been flat before, but now there was a faint note of…something. Did she wish to go? Elspeth wasn’t entirely sure. But with everything so miserable here, and with her and Struan barely speaking to each other, going anywhere seemed preferable to remaining.
She said, “It’s important to be there for one’s family at a significant event like this.
And I need to see Mairi.” Surely, if they were together, then they could formulate some sort of plan to at least ensure Mairi’s freedom.
Elspeth tried not to remember that her own freedom was already gone, and in fact, had disappeared in the very moment she thought she was gaining it.
She would not allow Mairi to suffer the same fate.
He frowned. Well, he had been frowning before, and now the frown deepened. “You know what your father was willing to do before. I’ve already sent—” Here he broke off abruptly. Then he asked, “Why would you think it’s safe for you to entrust yourself to his care?”
“I’m not trusting myself to anyone’s care.
All I’m doing is traveling to the city, attending some events, and then it will be done.
You own me now, and my father is a man who will respect another man’s property.
” Elspeth never would have spoken so cruelly to anyone just a few days ago, but now she felt the words coming naturally to her.
Perhaps she had always been a cruel person at heart, and it had been restrained only by her upbringing and the constant pressure to behave like a perfect daughter.
She saw now where her obedience had got her.
“They didn’t treat you well before.”
“You’re one to talk. And in any case I’m an invited guest. Surely you don’t think that they’re intending to mistreat all their guests?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them. But you won’t be staying in the same house, so they won’t have as much of an opportunity to misbehave.”
“What do you mean I won’t be staying in the house? Why wouldn’t I stay with my family?”
“Even if they begged you to stay in their finest bedroom, I wouldn’t permit it. You will stay at my townhouse.”
“I didn’t know you had property in Edinburgh.
” But as soon as she said that, Elspeth realized the foolishness of her assumption.
Of course Struan would own a home in town.
He had told her before that he frequently had dealings in the city, and both his father and grandfather before him had enjoyed living in Edinburgh.
She said, “Even if you do own a house, I’m sure that it would not be worth the cost to open it up and arrange for staff to manage the place for the short time we’ll be there—”
“Your arrival will be accommodated with no question.”
Elspeth tipped her head to the side, contemplating his phrasing. “You speak as if I’ll be going alone.”
“I’m being honest, as you so deeply desired me to be. You don’t want me near you, and I have no particular need to go to Edinburgh. It’s as if your wish has been granted.” He walked to a table, poured a little whisky from a decanter, then took a drink. He still didn’t look at her.
And while she couldn’t pretend to be surprised by his refusal to go to her family’s parties with her, she still experienced a sting.
How would it look for Elspeth to return to the city on her own?
She had left as a newlywed wife, but would be coming back without any husband at her side.
At a series of parties where courtship, engagement, and marriage would be the major topics of conversation.
Elspeth said, “I thought that you wouldn’t permit me to leave.”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. No, she technically wasn’t a prisoner.
But she was a wife, subjugated to her husband and the expectation that she would spend most of her life in his presence.
Although there were endless women who got married, and then found themselves living essentially alone in their houses, as their husbands continued the same social rounds that they had before, going to clubs and spending time with their own friends and mistresses, only returning to their homes to sleep, to change clothing, or to extract marital duties from their lonely wives.
Elspeth hadn’t realized that would be her story as well, but it seemed her future was set.
She said, “If you give me permission, I will travel to the city and stay there until the end of my stepsister’s festivities.” She did not ask him to join her. It would feel too much like begging.
“I give you permission. Provided you avail yourself of my townhouse, rather than stay with your family.”
“Is that an order?” she asked.
“I won’t order you to do anything. I trust that you will consider the wisdom of putting yourself too close to your father when you don’t have to.”
“Give me the street direction of the townhouse, so I may find it,” said Elspeth. She carefully avoided promising she would actually stay there.
Fortunately, Struan seemed to think he’d convinced her. He took a fresh sheet of paper to write the information down.
“When do these events start?” he asked. “I will arrange transportation. You may have to wait a day or two at Wick to catch the next ship.”
“Will that ship sail to Edinburgh? Or do you intend to send me off somewhere where I will be less of a bother?”
At last he looked at her, and she wished he hadn’t. His eyes glittered like black ice. “That is beneath you, Elspeth.”
“But perhaps not beneath you,” she retorted. He made no reply to that, so she turned and left the room.
And that was it. No attempts to keep her here, and no expression of interest in joining her.
Elspeth wanted to cry. After learning of his betrayal, she hadn’t imagined that Struan could still mean so much to her.
But he didn’t care whether she stayed or went, and that was a blow to her dignity.
She told herself that’s all it was. It couldn’t be a blow to her heart, because she didn’t love him anymore.
Everything happened quickly after that. Later that day, she went up to her bedroom to find the maids in a tizzy, and footmen bringing in some empty trunks. Elspeth’s original trunk, the one that smelled like codfish, was not among them.
“What’s happening?” she asked Agnes.
“Ma’am, I’m to pack your things for your journey to Edinburgh tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow! Even if I work all afternoon, I’ll not have my things ready for a journey tomorrow. I’d hoped to go to visit some of the children from the far school before I left.”
“Er, ma’am.”
“Yes?”
“I’m to pack your things. Me and the other maids.”
Oh. Elspeth kept forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to do anything for herself. She was meant to act like a lady. She sighed. “I need all the ballgowns and what goes with them, I’m afraid. I’m attending a number of parties.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“When I return from the school, I’ll go over what’s been packed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It was clear that Agnes thought Elspeth was being ridiculous, and Elspeth was starting to feel ridiculous.
“I suppose I need a lady’s maid to help me when I’m there. Do you…care to come to Edinburgh?”
“Oh, ma’am! Yes!”
“Then pack your things and make any arrangements you need to.”
“Yes, indeed, ma’am.” Agnes was glowing as she left the room.
When Elspeth was alone again, she walked to the connecting door, lifted her hand to the knob, and found it would not turn. Struan had probably also locked the door to the hallway, simply to keep her out.
Not that she wanted to go in anyway, she told herself. She’d just wanted to know that she could.
Now she knew she could not.