It shouldn’t make her so sad, especially since she often missed her grandmother, but being in Glasgow to study medicine, well, that would have been an impossibility with Aunt Belle’s sister. Grandma Alice and Aunt Belle were vastly different in their manners as well as their approach to life. Where Alice had been strict and steadfast to the proper, upper-class upbringing of gentle bred ladies, Belle had insisted on free thinking and independent spirits. While Grace was thankful to have been blessed with such an aunt, it made her feel guilty from time to time, to think of what her grandmother would have thought of her choices.
“Shoo!” Mrs. Stevens said as the three-legged kitten began to scratch at the bedding. “Go on, get.”
“Sorry about him, Mrs. Stevens,” Grace said, quickly approaching as she scooped him up. “He’s a bit anxious from the carriage ride.”
“He’s only got three legs. What good is he?”
“Oh, but he’s very good at catching mice. Even more so than the other cats kept in the stables at Lismore Hall, but I think it is because he’s trying to prove himself. Isn’t that right, Penguin?”
Mrs. Stevens blinked.
“What did you call him?”
“Penguin. Mr. Penguin, considering his coloring,” Grace explained. “He’s been following me the last two months, since he was born. One of the stable hands wanted to drown him, on account of his deformity, but I couldn’t let him. Now, he won’t leave me be.”
“Right, well, come along,” Mrs. Stevens said skeptically to Arabella, whose eyes hadn’t come down from the ceiling.
“Wait,” Grace said, stepping in front of her. “Arabella, you wouldn’t wish to stay in this room, would you?”
Her friend frowned.
“Oh, but I shan’t. This is your room.”
“Yes, my lady. Lady Belle specifically said that this was to be your room. It overlooks the crescent gardens. See?”
Grace and Arabella walked to the windows and sure enough, the gardens were in perfect view from the cushioned settee.
“I know, and I appreciate that, but the sun, you see. It bothers my eyes the way it reflects off the pages of my books and I do intend on doing a lot of reading while we are here. I think a north facing window may be gentler on my vision.”
A single brow on Mrs. Stevens’ face rose as if she didn’t believe such nonsense, but Arabella reached for Grace’s hand.
“If you are sure?”
“Quite.”
“Then of course I will,” she said cheerfully. “What luck! Now, let us see your room.”
Mrs. Stevens led the way, back down the hallway to the rear end of the terrace. This room was square, with deep pink and mauve wallpaper and darker, heavier furnishings than the first room, but Grace was pleased. The windows overlooked the street behind theirs, with a handsome row of white stone terraces that went all the way left and all the way right.
This was perfect. No distractions would cause her to abandon her studies when they became too difficult. No vague haunting of her grandmother scolding her for bringing books to the dining room table. Yes, a room in the back of the house was just what she needed.
Deciding to change out of her traveling clothes, Grace waited for a maid to brush out the wrinkles of one of her gowns that had been brought up in a chest that had arrived only an hour earlier. It was a simple white dress with tiny peach-colored blooms that was perhaps too lightweight for the weather, but it was one of Grace’s favorites.
“May I help you, my lady?” Mrs. Stevens offered. “Or mayhap Bethany here might assist you.”
“No, thank you. I can manage on my own.”
The housekeeper didn’t move while the maid Bethany glanced at her.
“Are you sure, my lady?”
“Yes, very much so. Please.”
Grace held her outstretched hand toward the door and waited until both Mrs. Stevens and Bethany left, closing the door behind them. Sighing, she began to unbutton the front of her dark green travel gown when a small, silver locket bumped against her palm.
Pausing in her undress, Grace held up the piece to inspect it as she did nearly every night. Mrs. Fletcher, her friend who was often called the Witch of Glencoe, had given her the locket not a week prior. She had insisted Grace wear it for good health and while there was a crease that curved around the oval piece, Grace hadn’t been able to open it. She doubted there was anything in it save for a sprig or two of water mint, one of the many herbs she had once gathered for Mrs. Fletcher when she was studying under Dr. Barkley.
Bringing the locket up to her nose, she inhaled. It reminded her of the wide-open spaces of the Highlands and she was grateful to have such a wonderful gift, though she kept it hidden beneath her clothing. Mrs. Fletcher had made her swear to keep it secret, and always willing to entertain the old woman, Grace had agreed.
