Page 53 of To Wed an Heiress
When Mrs. West returned with the coffee, she thanked the older woman and took the cup from her.
The next few minutes were spent discussing various innocuous topics, such as the garden, the staffing requirements, and the menu for the next week. When her coffee was nearly done, she put the cup on the edge of the desk and smiled at Mrs. West.
“Lennox has offered to take out my stitches. I would very much like them gone, Mrs. West. My head is itching abominably, and I haven’t been able to wash my hair correctly ever since the accident.”
The housekeeper didn’t say a word which surprised her. She’d expected Mrs. West to offer that McNaughton would be happy to remove her stitches. She had her explanation ready for the housekeeper. McNaughton had made no secret of his contempt for her. For that reason, she’d rather anyone else do the job.
“Is there a way to get out of the house without anyone noticing? I want to go to Duddingston Castle.”
“Miss Mercy . . .” Mrs. West began.
Mercy held up her hand. “Please do not lecture me, Mrs. West. I know what I want to do.”
“I would not venture to do such a thing, Miss Mercy. I was only going to say that you’re not dressed for crossing the glen. It rained last night and the ground is soggy. I’m guessing that you’ve no boots for the purpose.”
Mercy shook her head.
“Then, if you’ll allow me, I’ll loan you mine. They’ll no doubt be a might big, but they’ll work well enough.”
“Thank you. I’d be very grateful.”
“If you don’t mind I’ll send a bit of tablet over to Irene by way of you.” She smiled. “It’s a bit of a sweet treat that Irene likes and I made it yesterday.”
“Of course,” Mercy said.
Before she left, Mrs. West surprised her by saying, “I’ll just spread the word to a few of the maids, miss. It’s a little misdirection, but it’s harmless enough. One will say they’ve seen you in the library. Another heading toward the garden. It will only give you a few hours, though, until someone goes in search of you in earnest.”
Mercy nodded. Armed with the pan of something that looked like a light-colored grainy fudge, she left the house, heading for a narrow door near the kitchen gardens. Trees close to the house shielded her departure, plus she had directions to a door in the garden wall. She would be out of sight of anyone in the house and could make it across the glen with no one the wiser.
The ground was solid until she left the walled garden by the secret door. Without Mrs. West’s help, she would never have found it, tucked as it was behind rose bushes and hidden by ivy. Once on the glen, she followed the housekeeper’s instructions and looked for the beginning of a drover’s trail, shortening the distance to Duddingston Castle.
The boots were too large, but she made them work by slipping them on over her shoes. More than once she sank nearly up to her ankles in the spongy earth, but after she was on the trail it was easier.
The morning felt damp, a residual from the storm last night. The woods at the foot of Ben Uaine were shadowed, the diffuse sunlight not able to penetrate the thick pines.
She climbed a small hill, stood there, and looked over the scenery, feeling a curious sense of belonging in this strange place. She felt as if she’d always known the mountains in the distance, the glen undulating before her, even the sight of the loch in the distance.
At first she’d been unable to decipher the Scottish accent. Now she could understand most of what was said to her, although there were still some sayings that were unfamiliar, like haud yer wheest, gie it laldy, it’s a dreich day. And the word for Ruthie’s splint: skootie.
Coming to Scotland had been an act of freedom, but it was turning out to be so much more. She felt different, more herself than at any time in her life. She wasn’t forced to wear a polite and stiff mask or endlessly guard her words.
Perhaps she could take this new person she was becoming back to America. Perhaps she would even have the courage to speak up for herself and explain that she wasn’t going to break. She didn’t need a guard twenty-four hours a day. Nor should her life be a prison.
Her parents would be upset about her decision not to marry Gregory, but she hoped they would eventually understand.
He may have come from a fine family. He may be ambitious and intelligent. He was not only regarded with respect by several of her father’s friends and business acquaintances, he had been lauded as a hero. He was handsome, polite, and exceedingly cordial to her parents.
Yet life with Gregory wouldn’t be a blessing. She would be expected to obey him, to be molded and coached, to be all the things he wanted in a wife. She would be expected to continue to strive for perfection, only with Gregory being the arbiter of her behavior.
She couldn’t imagine a more hideous future.
Of course, there was every possibility that she would cause a scandal that echoed throughout New York because she’d broken the engagement. No doubt rumors were floating now about her behavior. She’d probably be ostracized and people would gossip about her for years.
Let them say whatever they wanted.
If nothing else, this trip to Scotland had taught her that people will think what they will, because their own prejudices fueled their opinions. Her relatives had been guilty of that.
From here she could see Duddingston Castle spread out before her. Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing Lennox.
