The brisk breeze from the open window blessedly dried the hint of tears in her eyes.
Veronica closed the window, heard it snap shut with a click. She would have liked to draw down the shade as well, but that would necessitate an explanation to Elspeth.
She was much too close to weeping, and once she started, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to stop.
Sitting back against the padded leather, she took off her bonnet and placed it on the seat opposite her. At the moment, she cared less for fashion than she did comfort.
Some conversation was called for, and she scanned her mind for a list of acceptable topics. Her aunt would say servants were to be ignored, treated as the furniture, to be used but given no thought. One did not converse with one’s servants, especiallyduring public outings. However, it occurred to her that the same woman who’d helped her on with her stockings could be spoken to when the chore was done.
Besides, she was no longer going to use Aunt Lilly as an example of propriety.
“How long have you been married, Elspeth?”
“Almost a year now, Your Ladyship.”
The girl did not chatter. She answered a question but never volunteered any additional information. Nor did she ask any questions in return. Such traits no doubt made her a perfect servant but a terrible conversationalist.
“Where were you married?” she asked.
“In Perth, Your Ladyship.” Elspeth tilted her head to the side and regarded her with some curiosity. “Why do you ask, Your Ladyship?”
Should she confess to a need for conversation? If she were talking, even of mundane things, even of someone else’s business, she wouldn’t be thinking of Montgomery.
He’d thought her capable of harming him.
With some difficulty, she pushed that thought away.
“I’m simply curious,” she said. “I apologize if I’ve offended you.”
Elspeth shook her head. “You haven’t, Your Ladyship. It’s just that no one’s ever asked before.”
Veronica gripped the material of her skirt. She released her hands, smoothed the fabric, and forced herself to remain placid on the surface.
“Are you happy, Elspeth?”
No, that was not a question she should be asking. She knew that without Aunt Lilly’s coaching. Elspeth turned in the seat to face Veronica. Her eyes sparkled, and the dimples in her cheeks deepened by her smile.
“Oh, Your Ladyship, yes. My Robbie is ...” Her voice halted mid-sentence as her face flushed. “Yes, Your Ladyship, I’m happy.”
Envy bit through Veronica like a hungry snake.
No, this was not an acceptable topic of conversation at all.
“It looks as if we shall get some inclement weather,” she said, glancing up at the boiling clouds. There, the weather was always an acceptable topic.
Elspeth nodded but didn’t comment. For an instant, they’d been simply two women. But the roles were firmly back in place.
She laid her head back against the leather. The carriage wasn’t the same one they’d used on their journey to Doncaster Hall all those weeks ago. The interior of this one smelled musty, as if the carriage had been in storage and not often used. However, it was immaculate. Not a touch of dust was visible on any of the surfaces and the pale blue cushions looked as if they’d been brushed recently. Did a coachman do such duties? Or did a maid? How odd she didn’t know. If she truly cared, that would be a topic of conversation she might broach to Elspeth. Elspeth would know.
She’d chosen well that first day. Elspeth had been a blessing. Millicent would have colored the days gray with her grim attitude. She’d have complained from dawn onward about some slight or problem.
How like Millicent she was becoming. Right at the moment, she could only see the darkness in her life. The approaching storm mirrored her mood so perfectly, it was as if God Himself had sent it to her to complement these hours.
She had a right to be dour. Her husband had just accused her of trying to kill him.
No, she didn’t love Montgomery Fairfax. She didn’t much like her husband right at the moment.
Veronica had just stood there, toward the back of the crowd, her face frozen in a calm, expressionless mask. She hadn’t looked as if she’d given a damn that he’d nearly been killed.
