Melody wished she hadn’t brought up the weighty subjects of morality. Orseemliness, as Kat had described them. When she had first arrived here, rapping on Kat’s door frightfully early in the morning, Kat had opened the door looking bright-eyed and flustered. Lucas stood behind her.
It took Melody a moment to understand what she was seeing. Lucas had not come to her rooms early in the morning, as he’d explained. No, it was almost certain he’d stayed the whole night, likely accompanying her there after they returned from the festival. From what she knew of Kat and Lucas, it was likely that Kat had taken the initiative to invitehimto her room. Melody’s face turned crimson at the thought.
“It must be wonderful to have the freedom that you do,” she said, all in a rush. “And the courage and confidence to back it up. You do as you like, don’t you, Kat?”
“Is that a simple remark, or a censure?” Kat answered, glancing up from her vigorous stirring.
“It’s an envious observation.”
“Ah. In that case, aye, I am free in a way that many are nae. Daenae fret, I understand my own luck. Scottish women may, in general, live freer lives than some of their English counterparts, but not always. In the small village where I grew up, our village leader loathed women and made sure to keep us in our place. He made use of the branks wherever he could, even keeping stocks in the village square.”
“How appalling.”
Kat shrugged. “The man’s long gone. Callum put a stop to such barbarity, and our clan is a reasonable one. But in many other places, a woman like me would be punished. Punished for bein’ outspoken, punished for…” she hesitated, glancing over at the bed with its rumpled sheets, half-hidden behind a curtain. “For makin’ choices allowed freely to men, and certainly for practicing the art of healin’.”
She punctuated her point by setting down the mug of herbal tea in front of Melody. The water still swirled furiously, but the herbs were now half-dissolved.
“Wait for it to settle, then sip it slowly,” Kat instructed. “I wager ye’ll nae have much of a headache by the end of it.”
“Thank you, Kat. You are very kind.”
“Ah, there’s nay kindness in it, nae really. I was born to be a healer, so really, I do all of this for myself,” she said, but with a smile. “I shouldnae worry about yer lack of sleep. It’s natural to be so shaken after such an event.”
Melody’s head came up. “What event?”
Can she know? Did she hear that I went to Callum’s tower, and drew conclusions from that? Is it possible?
Kat blinked at her, surprised. “I mean the drunkard who attacked ye.”
Melody deflated. “Oh. I’d already forgotten about him, in truth. No, it wasn’t the memory of him that kept me up all night. I was… I was thinking a good deal, and my mind could not settle. I could not stop thinking of London and my old life. I know that my sister has written to our father and informed him of my betrothal.”
Kat glanced up, frowning. “Yer sister informed him? Did ye nae inform him yerself?”
Melody blushed, shaking her head. “No, I did not. I should have done, but I… I didn’t. He wanted me to marry somebody else, you see. I believe he’d already begun to make the arrangements.”
Kat grunted and shrugged. “Well, it’s yer life, nae his, eh?”
“That’s not how things are done in London. Or anywhere else, for that matter,” she added, after some reflection.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Kat acknowledged. “Drink yer tea.”
For a moment, they sat in silence. Melody sipped her tea—which was surprisingly delicious—and Kat sat by her side, fingers laced over her stomach, staring at the fire.
“This fellow ye were meant to marry in London,” she said at last. “Ye didnae like him, then?”
Melody shook her head. “I don’t believe he was a brute, or even particularly unkind, just… just stern. I imagine he had a very particular idea of what his wife would be like and how she would behave. I justknowthat I would have been a disappointment. And then once I was married, of course I’d have to give up reading and painting, and start to…”
“Wait a moment. Ye would have togive updoin’ the things ye love? Whatever for?”
Melody bit her lip. “Well, that’s simply the way things are.”
“What do ye mean?”
She shot a sideways glance at Kat. Surely she couldn’t misunderstand this.
“When a woman gets married,” Melody began carefully, “she becomes a wife, and soon will become a mother. In English society, she… she changes. Things like music, art, and reading are accomplishments, things for younger, unmarried women to engage in. It would be quite frowned upon for a married woman to come to a party and insist on playing the pianoforte for everybody, for example. Or displaying her paintings. She’s meant to step aside and let other women exhibit their accomplishments.”
“What, all that to catch a man? How ridiculous. If I were to marry, I’d nae give up my work as a healer.”
