Chapter 15 #3
"Staggered? He will be furious," Guy said. Meg flinched. "He may never forgive her. Stewart has a great deal of stubborn pride and cast-iron integrity, I guarantee it."
"He is in Edinburgh now," Meg said. "Perhaps I should try to see him before the party. That might be best."
"Send a servant with a note asking him to call on Lady Strathlin," Angela suggested.
"Or send the man a written apology and explanation," Guy said. "He may decide then not to attend the soiree, or he may be forgiving and have a sense of humor about it."
"He deserves an apology in person," Angela said.
Knowing they were both disappointed in her, and equally disappointed in herself, Meg sighed. "I need to think about it," she said. "Was there anything of note in the mail?" she asked, eager to change the subject.
"Just the tickets for Miss Lind's Grand Full Dress Concert on the Monday evening of your soiree. And Mr. Worth sent his bill for the balance owed for the new gown," Guy said. "I meant to ask—would you like the amount paid by bank draft or deposited to an account? It is... well, a considerable sum."
"I believe Sir John deposited the first payment in Mr. Worth's London account, and we can do so again. No doubt you think it a huge sum to pay for a single gown." She saw his frown.
"That did cross my mind," Guy admitted, and then he shrugged. "But I will leave such choices to you, madam. I am merely willing to be dazzled. I'm sure every penny is well spent."
"You will be more than dazzled, I assure you," Angela Shaw said. "She will look divine."
"I am sure of it. And I am sure that milady's companion will look stunning, as well," he added quietly, gazing at Angela. A soft, sudden blush made her blue eyes sparkle.
Wishing to give them a private moment, Meg picked up her pencil to add some hatched shading to the sketch of the posy of flowers, tinted earlier with water-color.
She heard Guy and Angela murmuring quietly as she worked.
After a few moments, hearing silence, she looked up to see them not gazing raptly at each other, as she expected, but at her.
"Madam," Guy said, frowning, "may we inquire what exactly happened when you were out in the Isles this last time?"
"I... Mrs. Berry and I had a lovely holiday," she said. "Nothing more. Why do you ask?"
"Mr. Hamilton and I wondered if something occurred of a more profound nature, madam," Angela said. "Ever since your return, you seem... changed."
"Profound?" Meg stared at them. She did not know what to say. Tempted to confide in them, she knew that she must keep her secrets to herself, to protect Dougal and Iain. Soon she would have to answer Sir Frederick, and it hung over her like a sword.
"You sigh overmuch, and look wistfully into the distance," Angela said.
"You do not apply your attention to the matter at hand, to either your correspondence or your conversations.
All of us are somewhat bewildered, madam, about what ails you.
My guess is that there is no illness, but rather a preoccupation of thought and heart. "
"Nothing troubles me, if that is what you think," Meg said.
"I think something troubles you very much, dear," Guy murmured. "Something consumes your every thought."
"We decided to mention this only in order to offer our help." Angela glanced at Guy. "As your very dear friends."
They were too perceptive, Meg thought, looking away.
Through the window, blue hills spread into the misty distance.
Far beyond, where she could not see but could still feel its presence, lay the sea and the island where her heart existed with Iain and the rest. A mile past that was the sea rock.
She could almost feel the wind and the salt spray.
She wondered if Dougal was still in the Hebrides, and she wondered, too, if he thought of her.
"I am just preoccupied by the plans for the party," she answered then. "I will feel relieved when the evening is finally over."
"Mrs. Berry," Angela said gently, "says it is not that. It is her impression that you are in love."
Meg ducked her head and took up her pencil again. "Mrs. Berry is a romantic and likes it overly much when people fall in love." She glanced pointedly at them, but their attention was fastened unwaveringly on her.
"Berry adores this Mr. Stewart and thinks he is not the least bit an ogre, but a brave and kind man who seemed quite taken with you," Angela said.
"Taken? Really?" Guy said, folding his arms. "The odious Mr. Stewart? Was he what you expected, madam?"
"Not at all," Meg said, her cheeks heating fiercely.
"Berry also mentioned that Sir Frederick Matheson came to Caransay," Guy said. "That must have been a surprise."
"There is no need to nudge me, either of you," Meg said bluntly. "I have nothing to tell you."
Guy shrugged and looked at Angela. "Well, I hope it was a pleasant enough meeting with Sir Frederick," he told Meg.
"He is always pleasant in manner," she said carefully. "And it was quite a surprise." A shock, she corrected silently.
"If ever he is not, I want to hear about it. I do not trust the man," Guy said. "Mr. Stewart seems infinitely more trustworthy, in my opinion. Just keep cautious, dear Baroness, and remember that your friends are here to help you, should you ever need it."
Tears stinging, Meg ducked her head to apply her attention to her drawing, though the page blurred before her. "Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I shall keep it in mind."