Louisa bit back a smile at the old man’s description. “Well, I’d better go and see what she wants. Maybe she’s looking for work.”
“Could be.” Reuben touched his cap. “Please give the captain my regards, mistress.”
Louisa nodded. “I will, Reuben. Thank you.”
She and Maxwell had planned a visit to Highfield that afternoon to see the family, and especially her Uncle Julian. There were times when she still couldn’t believe all that had happened. The odds, after all, were surely incalculable. Much of the public clamor had eased, thankfully. And, so far, the experts had sadly been proven right, in that there had been little change in Julian’s communicative ability. But Louisa took comfort in the fact that he’d at least be spending his final years in his home, surrounded by people who loved him.
Temporarily lost in thought, Louisa didn’t notice that the strange woman had gone till she drew closer to the fountain. She glanced about to see that her standing on the lawn nearby, still staring up at the house. The continued odd behavior stirred a flutter of unease in Louisa’s stomach, and she slowed herstep as she approached, taking in more details in an attempt to ascertain what this stranger’s purpose might be. The woman stood with her back to Louisa, her green wool coat enhancing a rather pretty figure. A matching hat, complete with decorative blue and green feathers, sat at a jaunty angle on her head. Though the woman did not give an overall impression of wealth, she certainly didn’t appear to be impoverished.
“May I help you?” Louisa asked.
The woman flinched visibly, parting with a soft gasp as she turned around, the shocked expression on her face quickly dissolving into a smile. “Och, gracious, you startled me,” she said, a gloved hand pressed to her chest. “I didnae hear you approach. I’m guessing you are Louisa, aye?”
Louisa was momentarily taken aback, and not just by the woman’s casual greeting. Reuben had said the woman was pretty. An understatement. She was, quite simply, a vision, with golden ringlets framing an exquisite face, skin like cream, and eyes the color of fine jade. And, if her Scottish accent was anything to go by, Reuben had been correct in his assumption. Whoever this woman was, it seemed she’d been here before.
The flutter of unease persisted.
“I am Mrs. Harlow,” Louisa corrected, with emphasis, “and you are on private property. May I know your name, and what you are doing here?”
The woman stood a little taller. “My name is Flora MacNally, and I’m here to see Max.”
Max?
Louisa frowned and fiddled with the silver locket at her throat, a gift Maxwell had brought back from his recent trip to Glasgow. “For what reason? Are you a relative?”
“Och, nay, not a relative.” The woman gave a slight shrug. “And my reasons are personal. Is he home?”
Louisa drew her wool shawl tighter around her shoulders as a faint smell of alcohol drifted into her nostrils. She regarded the woman more closely, noting the tell-tall glaze in the eyes and, instead of answering the question, asked one of her own. “You seem to be on very familiar terms with my husband. May I know why that might be?”
“I’ve known Max a long time,’ she replied, pursing her lips as she pondered. “Five… nay, six years.”
“In what capacity?” The beginnings of a horrible suspicion had crept into Louisa’s mind. “I find it odd that you know my name, yet I’ve never heard of you.”
“Well, I cannae really blame Max for not telling you about me. ’Tis not something a wife might easily accept.” The woman shrugged. “Some do, mind.”
Louisa stared blankly at her for a moment, fearful of asking a question that begged to be asked, dreading the answer. But it could not be avoided. “And what is it that a wife might not easily accept?”
“Finding out that her husband has a mistress.”
Like an invisible punch to the stomach, the response momentarily stole Louisa’s breath. She shook her head. “No, that’s not… I mean, I don’t believe you.” Her voice grated over a sudden ache in her throat. “My husband does not have a mistress. He does notneeda mistress.”
The woman gave a soft laugh. “Why, of course he needs a mistress. He’s hardly ever home, is he? I serve a purpose and an important one at that, keeping him satisfied when you cannae. In return, he provides me with a house and money, which is actually the reason I’m here. I didnae get my allowance for October and I want to know why. We have an agreement, after all.”
“A house?”
“Aye. It was a gift from him.” She gave the manor a quick glance. “No’ as grand as this, mind. But it serves.”
A gift?Louisa shivered. “Where is this house?”
“Glasgow.”
Only one grim question remained. “And when did he last visit you?”
The woman answered without hesitation. “September. Dinnae recall the exact date. Somewhere in the middle of the month. He had a big meeting in the city.”
The world swam before Louisa’s eyes. Shaking her head, she took a step back and gave voice to her thoughts. “No, that’s… that’s not possible. He wouldn’t. He loves me.”
Flora hiccupped. “Told me he doesnae.”
