“I thought ye might like a wee go at supper before bed,” she said with a wan smile.
“Ye know me too well.” Tavish motioned her into his room.
Sitting before the fire, Mariah poured them each a cup of chocolate, sipping with a quiet groan of appreciation.
Initially, they spoke of inanities.
Yes, the twins were a handful.
Yes, Kenneth was enjoying his studies.
No, they had no plans to visit London or even Edinburgh. Though Alice might come for a visit from Aberdeen over Michaelmas.
Tavish had never told Mariah about his marriage. Not because he worried about her reaction—she would love and accept any lady he married, Mariah’s heart was so huge.
No, he simply refused to add one more burden to the already heavy load of worry his sister carried.
“How bad is it?” Tavish finally asked.
Mariah didn’t pretend not to understand. She set her cup down with a sigh and tried to give him a bright smile, but it emerged as a pained grimace. It was an expression he remembered their mother wearing, as well. An attempt to put a brave face on difficult circumstances.
“That bad?” Tavish continued.
Tilting her head back, his sister studied the ceiling, as if willing her tears to drain back into her eyes.
“I never cry over it,” she whispered. “It’s merely been so long since . . . since . . .” She trailed off.
Since I had help or a sympathetic ear,Tavish easily supplied.
Guilt nipped at his heels.
“Ye needn’t feel guilty, Tavish,” Mariah continued, accurately reading him. “There is nothing ye could have done here except be a drain on our limited financial reserves, and that is the truth of it. In some ways, it was fortunate that your regiment never returned to Britain during the War. No one could have reined in Callum’s excesses or changed the events that happened before your departure or since.”
Tavish snorted. “I could have put a bullet through Grayburn’s black heart.”
“And swung from a hangman’s noose for it? I think not. At least Callum is home now, attempting to make amends.”
“Are you positive there is nothing I can do to assist ye?”
“Quite.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, coals settling on the fire.
“And yourself?” Tavish asked. “What of your prospects?”
Mariah gave a bitter laugh. “Nothing has changed there. I am as ruined as ever. I am so beyond the pale that even eligible gentlemen farmers cross the street when they see me coming . . . fearful that the taint of my reputation might touch them from twenty paces off.”
Tavish ground his teeth. Of all the unfair things he had experienced over the years—and heaven knew he had seen aplenty—the fact of his older sister’s ruination stung the worst. Though Grayburn hadn’t actually done the ruining himself, the duke had been the puppet master pulling strings to ensure it happened.
“And Da’?” Tavish had to ask.
Mariah shrugged. “The same. His health declines year over year because he does nothing to curb the worst of his drink and appetite. Moreover, there is a widow he visits with some regularity outside Stonehaven. Everyone speaks of it, as our father is incapable of discretion. Alice, thank goodness, is married. Ken will do well as a solicitor, perhaps venturing into politics eventually. Edmund is resourceful and will make his way in the world. But my heart breaks for Elsie. I cannot imagine there will be much of a future for her. She is barely ten years old and already saddled with a lack of a dowry, looming poverty, and a scandal of an older sister. Who will marry her?”
“Callum will ensure she is taken care of.”
“Will he, though?” She sipped her hot chocolate.
“I’ll thrash him if he doesn’t.”
