A hush fell over the carriage at Faith’s question. All the ladies, including Rose, leaned a little closer to hear Belle’s response.
“He was exuberant,” Belle said, the hint of a smile appeared on her powdered face. “Lavish and relentless, but always very sweet to me. I remember the first time he asked me to marry him—”
“Marry him?” Grace exclaimed, sitting back. “You were going to be queen?”
“Heavens no, child. It was not meant to be,” Belle said. “He would have had to seek permission from the courts, as well as his father at the time. They would have never approved, not with all the political advantages a royal wedding was supposed to create—and that was back when no one expected Willie to ever become king, given that he had two elder brothers. But it didn't matter anyway. I would not be tamed by a marriage contract, even by a duke.”
“I hardly think becoming a member of the royal family would have restricted you,” Faith said with a calculating expression.
“Oh, no?” Belle quipped, brows raising. “You forget Queen Caroline then.”
King William’s elder brother, King George IV, had a terrible marriage, as was well documented. He had restricted Queen Caroline’s access to her family and friends early in their marriage and sought a divorce immediately after the birth of their daughter, Princess Charlotte. While Caroline hadsome support from the reformers, her banishment from his coronation had lasting effects on her popularity.
“But you cannot deny you interfered in King William and Queen Adelaide’s marriage,” Rose said. “You were his mistress after all.”
“I wasoneof his mistresses. Willie did enjoy his women. But I refuse to acknowledge any wrongdoing. He was a prince of the realm, and I held no sway over him.” Hope’s brow quirked up and Belle smirked. “Well, perhaps a little sway.”
“There were other mistresses?” Faith asked. Her mouth hung open and Hope watched her face twitch as though she were doing some advanced math problem in her head. “Can a man have more than one?”
“Perhaps that's a story for another day, Belle,” Hope said quickly, extending her hands up in an attempt to stop her from speaking. “As fascinating as your life has been, I'm afraid we are still rather innocent.”
“Innocent,” Belle repeated with a soft chuckle. Hope held her breath waiting for their aunt to say something cutting about the scandal they had all survived in London, but she only chuckled softly. “More than you know, my dears. More than you know.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. While it was highly unusual to speak to unwed ladies about scandal, the incidents had taken place many years prior and therefore seemed more like history than current events.
Still, how sad that Belle had been sequestered for so long away from her family. Hope understood her grandmother's reasons, as she probably didn't wish to corrupt Hope or her sisters, but she doubted Belle would ever do anything to harm or hinder them.
Grateful when the carriage finally arrived at Glencoe Village, Hope emerged to find a bustling town filled with people.There were all sorts of shopkeepers and other townspeople who seemed as though they were setting up some sort of event. All manners of people seemed to line the street. Most of the men were wearing green and blue tartan kilts.
“Look, Hope. Kilts,” Faith said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Hope rolled her eyes. She had once made the comment saying that she thought kilts were dashing and Faith would never let her forget it.
“Yes, I see.”
“What's going on?” Grace asked Rose as they strolled down the lane. “There seems to be a great many people here.”
“Festival preparations for the games,” Rose answered, the hint of a smile hovering on her lips. “It's grown a bit over the past few years, but the McTavish clan loves to celebrate.”
“McTavish?” Hope repeated.
“Yes. These are McTavish lands.”
“I thought they were MacKinnon?”
“No, the MacKinnons lost their lands during the Tragedies. The McTavish clan had been a wee bit cleverer at hiding their involvement during the uprisings and were never officially declared an enemy of the crown.” She glanced around. “Laird McTavish is one of the few highland lairds to still retain much of his ancestors' lands.” Rose looked back to Hope. “He's a bit of a relic.”
“How so?”
“Well, the clan system fell out of practice about a hundred years ago, but he still thinks that as the Laird, he needs to take care of his people. Even though many of the other lairds are clearing their lands for sheep and deer parks. Some are even paying their kin to emigrate to the Americas. Laird McTavish has tried to avoid having to do so. He's held on, but … the changing times are a force beyond his control.”
“That's so sad.”
“Aye, it is, but everyone does their best. Mr. MacKinnon's business, for example, has been able to employ several dozen people, and as he keeps his operations on McTavish lands, it's a benefit to the locals.”
“His business?” Hope asked.
“Aye, the beekeeping and whatnot. He's managed to create quite a success, what with all the honey, wax, and venom.”
