Page 63 of To Love And To Cherish
Ancilla laughed softly. “That is very possible. Every Scotsman I have met is handsome. And I assure you, living in Cambridge, I have met quite a few.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow. “Are Scotsmen so very different from Englishmen?”
“At the risk of sounding partial,” Ancilla said, “I shall give you my limited opinion. The Englishman prizes emotional self-control, somber appearance, and understated manners. They compose themselves so thoroughly it is sometimes difficult to perceive they feel anything at all. Breeding and refinement demand a certain restraint.”
“And the Scots?”
“They value fairness. Integrity. They are direct. A Scotsman is less likely to dress his speech in pretty phrases or hedge about a point. There’s a sharpness to their manner, but also honesty.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Then I daresay I shall enjoy them. I like people who say what they mean. Life would be much simpler if more of us just spoke plainly.”
Ancilla chuckled. “I would expect no less from you, Elizabeth. You are a very direct girl. And I like that.”
“I wish I were more like you, Lizzy,” Mary said with a sigh. “I freeze when I’m near a gentleman. I never know what to say. It’s mortifying.”
“Then let us hope Laird Frazier is a genial man who enjoys doing all the talking,” Elizabeth replied with a smile.
Later, as the conversation dwindled and the light softened over the rooftops of Edinburgh, Elizabeth turned to Ancilla.
“You are a beautiful woman, intelligent and kind. I do not think I have laughed so much in my life as I have in your company. Why are you not married?”
Ancilla’s smile faltered. She looked away. “I was in love once. He was my dearest friend. He went off to fight in the Peninsular War in 1807. He never returned.”
Elizabeth’s heart softened. “Did you grow up together?”
“We did. His parents still live two doors down from my father’s house. I visit them once a week.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Elizabeth said gently. Yet inwardly, she thought,Ancilla must find new surroundings, new faces. There may yet be a second chapter waiting to be written for her.
The following morning, they slept late and breakfasted at leisure before continuing northward. It was now late May. The air had grown warmer, but the ladies still nestled beneath shawls, sharing warmth and conversation.
At last, on the twenty-second of May, the coach drew up before Dalmore House. Uncle Allistair awaited them on the steps, tall and thickset, his smile as broad as the doorway behind him.
"Well now, Mary! I’ve not seen ye since ye were just a wee lass of three. I’ve missed your mother these many years, but you’ve a look of her, sure enough. I could almost believe it’s Rose herself standing there before me. Come then, lass, will ye not give your old uncle a hug?"
Mary stepped into his arms and began to weep. “There is something in your face that puts me in mind of Mamma, whom I have missed these ten years. They died in a carriage accident, did Aunt Harriet tell you?”
"Aye," he said softly. "She did write me, though she told but little. And where were they bound for, my dear?"
“They were on holiday, headed for France. Just as they reached Dover, the carriage wheel broke. It overturned into a gulch, and they were both killed.”
She wiped her eyes. “But they were happy to the end. No two people ever loved so well. Their love spilled over and covered me. Mamma was expecting a child. I had hoped for a brother or sister, but it was not to be.”
Uncle Allistair took her hand, his eyes glinting with unshed tears. “You’re most welcome here, Mary. This is your home now, lass. I’ve had Rose’s room made ready for ye.”
Just then, the butler appeared to announce dinner, and the family made their way to the dining room. Once seated, Allistair turned to Miss Trent.
“And your father, Miss Trent? How does he fare these days?”
She smiled. “Still teaching, sir. Still as stubborn as ever. I daresay he’ll not retire while he draws breath.”
Allistair gave a low chuckle. “That sounds just like the man I remember.”
Then he turned his kind eyes to Elizabeth. “And ye, Miss Bennet, I thank ye kindly for coming with my niece. I’ve asked her every year, but she would not come. This time, she had courage enough, and I believe I’ve you to thank for it.”
Elizabeth returned his smile. “It was no hardship, Mr. Allistair. Mary is a dear friend. I was glad to come.”
“You’re a generous soul. Adam has taken up the title and lands now, and it’s time he thought of marriage, time enough for an heir, eh?”
