“I think we are all happy for a reprieve,” Lavinia agreed.
She and Edith had decided to spend the day shopping in the village, while Lady Thorne, her sister Pearl, and Pearl’s husband had opted for a more leisurely morning of reading.
Lavinia gestured to the snowy white linen draped across Edith’s lap. “What are you planning to make?”
“Gracie spilled chocolate on Mr. McTaggart’s shirt last week, and I wasn’t able to remove the stain. I thought it only proper to provide a replacement.”
Mentally, Edith went through the steps of drawing a pattern for a man’s shirt. If she began as soon as the carriage arrived back at the castle, she could have the pieces cut and pinned before supper. It would be ready in plenty of time for the McTaggarts’ Christmas Eve celebration in two days.
Lavinia reached for her reticule. “There is no need for you to replace Mr. McTaggart’s shirt. How much was the fabric? I will reimburse you.”
Edith held up a hand to refuse the offer. “I want to make it for him. After he taught me to skate and showed me around Aldmist Fell, it’s the least I can do.”
“I see.” Lavinia closed her reticule and returned it to the bench before lounging against the seat cushion. “When do you intend to give it to him?”
Edith shrugged, her face growing warm. “I will see him at the McTaggarts’ Christmas gathering. I suppose that’s as good a time as any.”
“I thought the Scots didn’t celebrate Christmas.”
“Lady Thorne said they began the tradition for her sake when she was brought to Aldmist Fell. Then they took to it and continued. They celebrate Hogmanay, too.”
“Indeed? That is lovely,” Lavinia said. “Have you thought about what you will wear?”
Edith bit her lip, recalling the garments hanging in her wardrobe. Nothing she owned was fit for a party. “I don’t know. I suppose I will figure out something.”
“I brought several gowns I likely won’t have any occasion to wear. I’m happy to loan you one.”
A small jolt of pleasure coursed through her. Lavinia’s gowns were exquisite; Lord St. Ambrose demanded only original designs of the finest quality for her. “If you are certain you wouldn’t mind.”
Lavinia smiled. “I would be delighted. How long have I been urging you to dress your age?”
“Far too long. I listened about the hair, didn’t I?” Edith grabbed one of her pale curls brushing her shoulder and brandished it as proof.
“And you look lovely, just as I knew you would. I hope you’re done hiding behind those ridiculous spectacles, shapeless gowns, and old-woman hair knots.”
Edith scrunched her nose but couldn’t help laughing. She might be slow to heed advice, but eventually, it sank in.
Lavinia leaned forward slightly, her expression softening. “I’m glad we have this moment alone. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done to help Gracie transition to living with Helena. Helena said you have been invaluable, and we’re both grateful for the sacrifices you’ve made these past few months.”“It hardly feels like a sacrifice.” Perhaps Edith wouldn’t have said the same when they’d first arrived in Scotland, but Aldmist Fell had grown on her. “I’m surprised to find I’m reluctant to return to England. Fortunately, Lord Thorne isn’t expected back in Town for a few more weeks. There’s still time to enjoy myself.”
“And I’m pleased you’re allowing yourself to enjoy it. You deserve a bit of happiness after the shoddy hand life dealt you.”
Edith’s smile softened. “What about you? You deserve happiness, too.”
“I am happy,” Lavinia replied, leaning back and gazing out the window. “I’m always happy when I’m with St. Ambrose.”
But Edith knew Lavinia couldn’t always be with the marquess, not while she remained his courtesan instead of the wife he wished her to be.
“Are you certain you cannot marry him?” Edith asked gently. “I believe he’d fight the devil himself to have you as his wife.”
Lavinia sniffed. “He shouldn’t have to. August knows where I stand. He deserves a marchioness he can proudly stand beside.”Arguing would be pointless; Lavinia was too strong-headed for her own good. Edith could only hope Lord St. Ambrose was more stubborn in the end. For all Lavinia’s insistence on wanting the best for the marquess, Edith knew she’d be devastated if he married someone else.
“How did we end up on this topic?” Lavinia asked, raising a brow. “We were discussing you and your future.”
“Were we?”
Lavinia’s blue-green gaze settled on Edith with that piercing look of hers, as if she could see below the layer shown to others. “Helena and I agree it’s time to hire a governess for Gracie. She has much to learn if she’s to make a successful debut someday. Helena mentioned she’d be glad for you to stay on as her companion, but I suspect you might prefer to be elsewhere.”
“There is nowhere I’d rather be.” Edith paused, considering if that was entirely true. She liked Lord and Lady Thorne, and she adored Gracie, but the Thornes weren’t her family. The past few years, the only person she’d ever thought of as family was sitting across from her. “Would Lord St. Ambrose allow me to return?”
