Page 90 of The Scottish Duke
“So she’s had nothing made?”
“Well, she has, Your Grace, but not from the seamstress. They were both at the knag and the widdie. The seamstress was all for making Lorna into something she’s not, and Lorna wasn’t bending an inch.” She sighed. “Even your mother got involved, but neither was budging. I think the whole thing started because of MissTaylor, myself.”
“What did she do?”
Robbie snuffled a little. He glanced down to find his son grimacing in his sleep. Was that Robbie’s opinion of Mary? If so, his son had already developed great taste.
“She told the seamstress that Lorna looked the part of a servant and that her wardrobe was ‘trittle trattle.’ ”
“I don’t suppose Lorna appreciated her clothes being called rubbish,” he said, wishing he’d come home sooner.
Staying away had accomplished nothing more than to make him miserable. It certainly hadn’t eased tensions in his home.
“According to the seamstress, Your Grace, Lorna was a fool to nurse Robbie. It ruined her bosom and made her appear coarse in anything she wore.”
“She said that?” He was beginning to dislike the seamstress as much as Nan evidently did.
She nodded vehemently. “Then she kept saying how MissTaylor had a sense of style and so did the former duchess, if you’ll pardon me for bringing her up. But Lorna didn’t because she’d evidently never dressed as anything but a maid.”
“Did she?”
“Of course, MissTaylor heard all these comments and couldn’t wait to pass them around, which got back to Lorna, of course. She told the seamstress that she didn’t see why you should have to pay for her being insulted and she dismissed the woman.”
“Then what happened?”
She left the dress in her lap and smiled at him, a charming gap-toothed smile that had him smiling back.
“Well, Your Grace, there’s a girl on staff named Hortense. She’s the one who helped Lorna with the gown she wore to the fancy dress ball. She’s not a very good maid, but Mrs.McDermott puts her to work in places where she can’t break anything. She cleans the baths or helps the scullery maids. She isn’t allowed in the parlors or the sitting rooms.”
“And she’s the one who’s sewing Lorna’s gowns?” he asked, bemused.
“Oh, yes, Your Grace. Lorna asked Mrs.McDermott if Hortense could be her seamstress. Hortense loves sewing and is beyond pleased to get this chance. She’s been working on Lorna’s wardrobe ever since.”
There’d been a whole world beneath his nose and he’d never noticed. First, Lorna. How the hell had he missed her? Then Nan, who was as voluble a creature as he’d ever met. When had she ever been silent? Now Hortense, who broke things.
He’d learned more about the inner workings of Blackhall in the last few months than he’d known all his life.
He stood. “You think Lorna’s at the cottage, then?”
She nodded.
He left the castle, heading for the cottage, fighting the wind as he walked. A gust hinted at the recently departed winter. He only pulled up the collar of his jacket and continued on.
The sight of the cottage around the curve of the road made him quicken his pace. No smoke was visible from the chimney. Nothing moved in the windows. The building seemed empty, almost bereft without an occupant.
Where was Lorna?
He didn’t allow the sinking feeling in his chest to stop him, but continued to the front door. He pushed in the latch and entered, feeling the chill seep around him. At least here he didn’t have to battle the wind.
“Lorna?”
The cottage was empty, the rooms so silent that when she answered him he was surprised.
“I’m in here.”
Her voice didn’t sound right. When he entered the bedroom he knew why.
Her face was streaked with tears.
