Page 21 of To Wed an Heiress
“Only to have a carriage accident on the way here,” Elizabeth said, surprising her by smiling.
“I sincerely hope that no one tells them,” Mercy said. “Otherwise, they’ll think that they were right all these years.”
“I won’t tell them,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t speak for Mother.”
That meant her grandmother was going to lose no time telling her mother everything. Yet she was no longer a child. She hadn’t been a child for well over a decade.
“I understand why I live the way I do, Aunt Elizabeth. I just don’t want to live like that anymore. Even Gregory was their choice.”
“Gregory?”
“The man they want me to marry.”
She didn’t tell Elizabeth about Gregory’s heroic reputation, that he’d dispatched a number of Southern soldiers in countless battles. Not when Elizabeth’s fiancé had been killed in the war.
“My parents planned for Gregory and me to live with them. Father had already given orders to start renovations on the second floor.”
Even after she became a wife she wouldn’t be able to escape her protective parents.
“And you don’t want that?” Elizabeth asked.
“No.”
“How does Gregory feel about it?”
“He’s very ambitious. When James Gramercy Rutherford wants you to marry his daughter and live with him in his house, what man would refuse?”
Elizabeth didn’t say anything, but her soft smile spoke volumes. Perhaps a man who wasn’t so ambitious or who chose his own path in life.
Her aunt stood and came to her, bent down, and gave her a hug.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could change the situation for you.”
“Me, too,” Mercy said. “Not just my situation, but yours, too.”
Elizabeth smiled at her. That simple expression eased Mercy’s discomfort from the verbal flogging she’d received from her grandmother. And maybe from being banished from Duddingston Castle by Lennox Caitheart.
“I’ll leave you to rest for a while,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll come and get you for dinner in a few hours. Unless you would like a tray here.”
“I’ll go down to dinner,” Mercy said.
She doubted she was going to look any better in the next few days and wasn’t about to spend all that time in her room, although it was a lovely place. The wealth that had created Macrory House was evident in this guest chamber as well.
Lemon-colored silk fabric lined the walls and upholstered the chaise, the headboard, the bed hangings, and the window curtains. Watercolor paintings of flowers and herbs in gold frames hung in various places on the wall. In addition to the four-poster bed, the room was furnished with a vanity, a small secretary, a bureau, and an armoire that looked wide and deep enough to accommodate all the clothing she’d brought with her.
After Aunt Elizabeth left, she put the valise with the money at the bottom of the armoire. Coming to Scotland had been a fool’s errand, but at least she’d obtained some freedom for herself, however short it might be.
Mercy removed her traveling dress, grateful that the cuffs and collar were detachable. She would just replace them rather than try to remove the spots of blood on her collar and the dirt on the cuffs.
She’d never needed Ruthie’s help in undressing and she removed her traveling dress and crinolines with ease. Her corset was never tight and she merely unfastened the busk at the front, placing the garment in one of the bureau’s drawers.
Lily had hung her wrapper just inside the armoire. Mercy put it on before going into the bathing chamber adjoining the bedroom, grateful for the natural light in the large mirror.
Her eyes looked dull and the dark circles were more pronounced now. Her skin appeared waxy and as pale as Ruthie’s had been. Even her lips looked odd, nearly bloodless.
McNaughton had not stinted on the bandaging material. She looked exotic. Or exotic and injured.
Lennox Caitheart had a great deal to answer for. What a pity she’d never see the man again to tell him that to his face.
