Page 29 of The Last Debutante
“I’ve been sent, aye. I didna want to come, no’ after what you’ve done, but Duff, he said I should try.” She picked up one of Daria’s chemises from the bed and studied it, running her fingers over the lace.
It had been a long day, a longweek,and the edges of Daria’s patience were fraying. This was all difficult enough without everyone treating her as ifshe’ddone something wrong. After what she’d endured, it infuriated her somewhere in the fog of her exhaustion. “In England, when a maid is assigned to a lady—”
“I’m no English maid,” Bethia said sharply. “And you’re no’ a princess. You canna demand this or that.”
Daria was shocked. “Haven’t you the least bit of empathy for a woman who comes to you, dressed in hernightclothesof all things—which, I might point out, are now soaked in blood—with her hair a mess? Are you not the least bit curious as to why that is?” she demanded.
“No,” Bethia said.
“Now you are trying to vex me!” Daria said.
“I donna need to inquire, as I know who you are,” Bethia said with a toss of her head.
“Do you really?” Daria said coolly. “Then just who am I, Bethia?”
“You’re the woman who stole our money from Hamish, that’s who.”
“I didn’t!” Daria cried.
“And you very nearly killed our laird.”
“I didnosuch thing—”
“That’s what is said of you, and everyone at Dundavie knows it now. I suppose you think I ought to take the word of an Englishwoman over that of a Campbell, aye?”
“I think you ought to give me the benefit of the doubt,” Daria said irritably. “I’d do the same for you.”
Bethia shrugged. She looked at Daria’s clothing, strewn about the bed. She picked up a gown, holding it up with two hands, examining it with a critical eye.
Daria sighed. “If it brings you the slightest bit of comfort, please know that I intend to leave this... place,” she said, refraining from calling it a pile of stones, “as soon as possible.”
For some strange reason, Bethia actually chuckled at that. “Oh, you’ll no’ leave, miss.”
“The bloody hell I won’t,” Daria muttered, earning an arched brow of surprise from Bethia. “I will leave here, mark me. Once this matter is settled to Mr. Campbell’s satisfaction, I shall be gone from this godforsaken place and return to the civilization of England, where ladies are not abducted and held for ransom and maids hang gowns.”
“You’ll no’ leave.” Bethia smiled coldly at her. “I’ve the second sight, aye? You’ll no’ leave Dundavie.”
Daria snorted. “If you had second sight, then you would know it was not me who shot Mr. Campbell.”
“Laird.”
“Laird, then.”
“It may as well have been you, aye? It was your family after all. That’s the way it is here.”
Too exhausted to argue, Daria just waved her hand at the girl.
Bethia smoothed one gown, then picked it up and disappeared into the adjoining dressing room. She returned a moment later without it, and Daria hoped that she’d hung it in a wardrobe, and not tossed it into a hearth or out a window.
She was in quite a spot, one worthy of legends, wasn’t she? It was so fantastic that it bordered on unbelievable. Somehow, someway, she would figure out how she would navigate this predicament. She’d never known anyone quite as difficult as Bethia—
Ah, but shedidknow someone as difficult as Bethia. Mrs. Ogle of Hadley Green could be very obstinate and contrary when she was of a mind—and she was frequently of a mind. Daria had learned how to navigate around women like Mrs. Ogle. She’d learned how to negotiate her way through treacherous ballrooms, too, with people who were far more sophisticated and sly in their loathing of others than this girl. Had Daria met Bethia Campbell in a ballroom...
That was it! Daria suddenly realized how she might preserve her head and her sanity. She suddenly sat heavily on a chair. “You’re right, you know,” she said morosely.
Surprised, Bethia looked at her.
“I’ll confess something to you, Bethia. I feel quite lost,” she said plaintively. “I came to Scotland only to see my grandmamma, for I have missed her so.” She looked at Bethia through her lashes and said tearfully, “She is the one who may have taken Mr. Campbell’s money, and I was as shocked to hear it as you all must have been. Can you imagine? My grandmamma!
