Page 82 of The Scottish Duke
She didn’t respond, having learned that silence was the quickest way to avoid an argument. Besides, what could she say? To Mary, she’d always be a maid and nothing more.
“He couldn’t have married you,” Mary said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’ll bring the mighty Russell family down. The whole of the empire will ridicule him and the entirety of the family.”
She really should have remained silent, but she couldn’t help herself.
“But he did. What galls you, Mary? That he married me? Or that it wasn’t you? Or do you think your sighing after Alex hasn’t been noticed by the staff?”
The spots on Mary’s cheeks became a darker pink and traveled down her neck. Lorna wondered if the woman was going to have a fit.
A movement out of the corner of her eye had her glancing toward the door to the corridor. The duchess stood there, taking in the two of them.
“Have you come to offer congratulations to Lorna?” Louise asked, moving into the room. Her face was unsmiling, the expression in her eyes one that Lorna fervently hoped was not directed at her.
“No, I’ve come to tell her that Alex has left Blackhall. She drove him away, Louise.”
Lorna kept her face still. Hopefully, Mary couldn’t read the anger she was feeling. How dare she say such a thing? At that moment Robbie fussed. She turned and silently went to tend to her child, grateful for the excuse to leave.
“How could you have let something like this happen, Louise? Alex has gone. He only married her to keep her brat from being called a bastard. I’ll bet it’s not even Alex’s child. And now she’s driven him away.”
Was there no way to silence this woman?
“Have you any idea what the countryside will say? Alex will be a laughingstock. Society will shun us.”
She really should walk away now before she said things she’d regret. The problem was, she’d imagined saying them so many times since Mary had first come to live at Blackhall that the words were straining to be said. She could envision them jumping to her lips, each one of them coated in glee.
“She’s nothing but a maid!”
Mary had never been particularly observant on the best of days. She was blithely continuing her diatribe, leveling insult after insult on Alex, on her, and on Lorna, whom she’d verbally assaulted only minutes earlier.
“Alex could never marry you,” Louise said when she could get a word in edgewise. “So there’s no sense in yearning after him. There are laws that forbid it. You’re Ruth’s sister.”
Mary’s color was high, almost the match of her riding habit.
“He didn’t have to marryher,” she said. “She’s a trumped-up whore. We’ll be laughingstocks, Louise.”
“Then perhaps you should contemplate leaving Blackhall.”
Mary’s sudden look of surprise was only mildly gratifying.
“You can go and live in Edinburgh, perhaps. Or if you’re better suited to London, I’ll give orders to make the house there ready for you. You’re family, Mary, and you’ll always have a home with us, but maybe not at Blackhall.”
“This is my home,” Mary said, clenching her hands on the crop.
Louise’s smile felt odd, as if her facial muscles didn’t want to obey her will.
“If you remain here, you’ll have to accept Lorna as Alex’s wife. She is the new Duchess of Kinross. As such, she has my full support as well as my affection. ”
Mary didn’t say another word, but turned and stormed out of the sitting room and down the corridor. Louise half expected her to stop and deliver another insult, but the woman blessedly disappeared from view.
With any luck, Mary would choose to live in London, since that was the farthest distance from Blackhall. That would be the best solution, but she knew Mary. The woman hadn’t made it easy on anyone since the day she arrived. There was every chance all of them would be forced to endure her pouting and tantrums in the future. It might take another confrontation or two before Mary finally left.
She sighed and headed for the ducal bedroom, determined to first apologize to Lorna and then to spend time with her grandson.
Chapter 22
“He’ll come back, you know,” Louise said.
Lorna glanced at her mother-in-law. They were sitting in the family parlor, a pleasant room facing the expanse of lawn at the back of Blackhall. The castle was perched on a hill overlooking Loch Gerry, the piney woods between the two.
