Chapter 17
Ellie enjoyed dinner immensely, and not just because of the appetizer. She was anticipating dessert, but after excusing herself after the meal to attend to her bladder, she saw red in the bottom of the chamber pot, and groaned.
“Oh…bloody hell,” she whispered. She wasn’t comfortable with vulgar language, but this felt appropriate for the situation.
She wanted so badly to know all the aspects of marriage, especially after that kiss in the dining room that had her pulse pounding and her body smoldering.
She’d sensed that the kiss—and how intense it had grown—represented some kind of breakthrough.
But now she was unfit for any intimate relations for at least the next five days, if the past was any guide.
While Elspeth’s courses had never been particularly punctual (unlike Mairi, who could set a clock by her cycle), when they did arrive, it was never for fewer than five days and sometimes up to a week.
Well, that explained her backache.
She returned to the dining room in a considerably less happy mood.
“What’s wrong?” Struan asked, noticing immediately.
“Nothing.”
“It must be something. Perhaps we could discuss it upstairs.” His tone was so hopeful that she felt like she was about to crush something precious.
“Um, I would like that, but I can’t.”
He frowned. “Do you have another appointment?”
“No. It’s actually that for the next several days, I will be…
” She trailed off, because discussing something as intimate as her monthly courses arriving was not something she’d prepared for.
“Indisposed,” she finished awkwardly. Ugh.
Her cheeks might as well be on fire “I’m sorry. The timing is…not good.”
“I assume you don’t have control over the timing,” he said.
She shook her head. “Life would be much simpler for women if they did. But all the same, I’m sorry. I’m your wife, and I know what that means, and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Of course not.” He didn’t sound disappointed, though Struan was sometimes impossible to read.
“I will inform you when…I’m…not indisposed again. Just the usual disposed.” She sighed. “And I should warn you that I can be a bit cranky at these times.”
“That I don’t believe,” he said. “You don’t know how to be cranky.”
“Oh, I do, when circumstances warrant. Are you angry at me?”
“Why would I be angry?”
“Because you wanted…and I can’t…”
“Stop it,” he said, his tone clipped. “We won’t talk about this anymore. It doesn’t matter.”
“But will you spend the evening with me? In the parlor? I thought we might…just spend time together. We could talk. Or not talk! We could read.”
He reached out to take her hand. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. We’ll go to the parlor now. I’ve got some books I’ve been meaning to get to.”
“Oh. Good.” Ellie bit her lip, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “That’s what I want. Well, the second most.”
Ellie was annoyed at her body for thwarting her plan to actually get to spend a night with her own husband, but at least she could spend the evening with him.
The new parlor proved to be a comfortable place, especially in the evenings after dinner.
They’d found that they both liked to read books on the long couch which sat in front of the low fire.
Elspeth commandeered several mirrors from unused rooms in the house, and had them hung in the parlor, then had tables placed in front of the mirrors and stood either a lamp or a candelabrum on each surface.
When each was lit, the mirrored surface reflected the light back, and doubled or tripled the intensity.
“See?” she said proudly on the first evening she demonstrated the effect to Struan.
“Now you can get more light from each flame—which reduces the chance that any one candle could start an accident, and it’s also frugal, as it means fewer candles and less lamp oil to replace.
Plus I think it’s pretty the way the glass sends the light back into the room. Don’t you think?”
“Very pretty,” he agreed, his attention on her.
Now they settled into the newly stuffed couch. Struan read a book while Ellie opened a letter from Mairi, delivered that afternoon.
Dearest Pest,
I never imagined how painful the loss of your company would be when you first left for your new home. I was prepared to endure my own melancholy, because I could always reflect upon your happiness, which I’m pleased to hear about from your letters.
Since your departure, life has been much the same.
Father and our stepmother continue to entertain and make calls upon their circles and attend nearly every event to which they have been invited, even those I know no one looks forward to.
Father continues to spend prolifically on his wardrobe and accoutrements, so that he may dazzle every eye that passes over him, in the continuing hope that he will cut an impressive enough figure to gain the esteem of those worthies in town.
Ha! Susan and Averill follow his lead. It is all so much that I worry they will run afoul of the sumptuary laws set in place by our ancestors.
Averill, of course, continues to be a trial. She has, finally, set her sights on one particular gentleman, God help him…
“Once Averill is properly engaged, they won’t strut about so much,” she murmured to herself.
Struan looked up. “What’s that you’re reading?”
“A letter from Mairi.”
“Isn’t that good? She hinted that correspondence wasn’t her strong suit.”
“I’m delighted to hear from her, of course. But she has shared news that…well, never mind.”
“Too personal to share?”
“You’re my husband. You should know everything that touches my life. Mairi seems worried. She doesn’t include details, but life with my father has grown more difficult for her.”
“To think that life with Mairi would ever be turbulent.”
She laughed once. “You only met her for a moment, but you know, don’t you?” Then she held up the letter. “I just wish I knew what was going on! I realize now that my presence in the house probably…smoothed things over among the others.”
“I expect it did.” He hesitated, then said, “You could return there. Go for a visit.”
Part of her wanted to do that, but she’d practically just arrived! To leave when she hoped that her relationship with Struan was progressing? She couldn’t.
“I won’t rush to Edinburgh over a few complaints,” Ellie said, putting a smile on her face. “The next letter from Mairi will be all about her latest effort toward allowing women to serve in Parliament, or something like that.”
“Good luck to her.”
“You sound like you mean it.”
“Why not?” He shrugged. “Men have been in charge for a long time, and it’s hardly a utopia, is it?”
“You’re telling me you’d be happy if women suddenly had control of the whole country? How would you like me acting as administrator to the people of Scotland?”
“You do well with the house. Why not the country?”
She laughed. “You’re just saying that because there’s no chance it will happen.”
“I’m saying it because I believe it, Ellie.” He took her hand in his. “Why don’t you?”
Ellie had no response. No one had ever asked her that before. To hear the question from this man who she was now bound to, but also was still getting to know, seemed incredible.
Struan hadn’t released her hand. He ran his thumb over the tops of her fingers, back and forth. Awareness crackled in her body, and when she noticed him looking directly at her, she couldn’t meet his gaze.
He actually laughed a little, a low rumbling sound that she found wildly exciting. She liked to make him happy, even if she didn’t understand how she did it.
“When you look at me like that…”
“Like how?” he asked.
“Like you’re thinking of…I don’t know…eating me up.”
“Maybe I am.” Another low rumble of laughter, his lip curling into a half smile.
He raised her hand to his lips, and kissed her fingers. Ellie suppressed a little gasp, and then wondered why she was suppressing it, and let it out. When he heard it, his grip tightened.
“Yes?” he asked, and she knew he was asking if she liked it.
“Yes,” she breathed.
His lips grazed her skin again, and she let her eyes close, concentrating on the new feeling surging through her. How could such a limited touch—his lips on her fingers—spark little fires all over her body?
She held his hand, thinking that she’d like to get to know how he felt under her lips. All the lines and ridges and scars that made his hand his. “I could kiss you back.”
But he winced slightly, and pulled his hand away. It was done gently, but it still felt like a rebuke.
“Another time,” he said.
“Why not this time?”
“If we start something, I’d like to finish it. But you’re indisposed, remember?”
How annoying that he was correct.
Dealing with cramps was bad enough, doing so without a book was far worse. So she grumpily stood up.
“I need a book,” she announced.
“There are a few to choose from,” he said, gesturing to the walls.
She looked at all the books, delighted by the sheer volume, even though she knew many of them were ledgers and account books or law books that were profoundly boring.
After surveying several shelves, she saw a guidebook for London, and pulled it out on a whim. The title was Walton’s New Traveller’s Guide to London and Environs.
She opened a page and began to read. No visit to London is complete without an evening in Covent Garden. This remarkable space is truly magical at night, when the glow from the lanterns among the trees is nothing less than otherworldly.
She laughed. She’d heard Averill say exactly that when recounting her many visits to Covent Garden. Perhaps this author had been there the same night.
She flipped to another page. The exquisite shops of Bond Street, lined up like so many cakes, contain delectable wares.
These shops are of high quality, and ladies will find everything they could dream of and more behind the doors of these respectable and august establishments.
Several have been known to provide goods to the royal household, and it is not uncommon to spy a foreign dignitary or European princess on a shopping excursion.
Now Ellie frowned. Hadn’t Averill also talked about that? She’d mentioned seeing some princess in a shop, that was certain.
“What have you found?” Struan asked.
“A guidebook to London. Walton’s.”
“Are you planning on visiting?”
“Based on this? Definitely not. It sounds like everyone has the same experience.”
“Come back and sit by me, then,” he invited.
Deciding that was an excellent idea, she did so.