Meg flinched. “He does seem stubborn and proud.”
“With cast-iron integrity, I believe, so he may not take it well,” Guy said. “I hear he is back in Edinburgh now. Perhaps you could see him before the party.”
She gulped. “I suppose that would be best.”
“We can send a note to his city residence—that is the address we used for the invitation—and ask him to call on you at Charlotte Square,” Angela suggested.
Again, Meg shrugged. “Perhaps we should do that.” Wanting desperately to see him, she dreaded what she must do.
“At least write to the man with an explanation so he is prepared,” Guy said. “He may decide to decline the soiree. Or perhaps he will be forgiving and show some humor about it.”
“Perhaps. But he should hear it from me beforehand, I know.” She sighed. “Was there anything else?”
“We have tickets for Miss Lind’s concert on the evening of your soiree, and we can arrange carriages for those who wish a ride to your house from there. Oh, and Mr. Worth sent a bill for the balance owed on the gown. A bit hasty, I thought. I prefer to pay once the confection is finished.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Meg said.
“Would you like the amount paid by bank draft or deposited to an account? It is a considerable sum.”
“Sir John deposited the first payment in Mr. Worth’s London account, and that can be done again. It is a rather large sum for a gown, I know.”
“That crossed my mind, but it will be unique and lovely,” Guy said.
“You will be dazzled by the confection, Mr. Hamilton,” Angela said. “She will look divine!”
“Milady’s companion will no doubt be a dazzling sight as well.” He smiled at Angela.
Seeing that, Meg’s heart surged with joy as she saw them blush, their eyes sparkling. Wanting to give them the moment, she turned pages in her journal, pretending to be absorbed. Hearing them murmur, she looked up to see them gazing at her now.
“Madam,” Guy said, “may I inquire if anything unusual happened in the Isles this time?”
“I had a lovely holiday, but that is not unusual.”
“Mr. Hamilton and I both wondered if something occurred there,” Angela said. “Ever since your return, you seem…preoccupied. You sigh often and look into the distance. And you do not seem as excited about the soiree now.”
“Preoccupied?” Meg raised a brow, tempted to confide in her friends. Yet she must protect her son and Dougal too. But Sir Roderick’s insistence on marriage hung over her head like a sword. “A bit. But nothing troubles me,” she said defensively.
“Something does,” Guy said.
“We are your dear friends. Remember that,” Angela said.
“I know. Thank you.” Dear friends who were too perceptive, Meg thought, and glanced away. Through the window, blue hills spread into the misty distance. Far to the west, invisible to the eye, lay the island where her heart resided, and near it the great sea rock. “I am preoccupied with so much to be done before the soiree. It will be a relief when the evening is finally over. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Mrs. Berry came to me,” Angela said. “She thinks you are smitten, and could perhaps use a friend.”
Meg ducked her head, turning a page. “Mrs. Berry is a romantic and wants everyone to be smitten or in love. Who does she think I have fallen for?” A dangerous question, she knew.
“Mr. Stewart,” Angela said. Beside her, Hamilton lifted his brow in surprise. “Berry says he is charming and handsome, andnot an ogre in the least,” Angela said. “She calls him brave and kind, and says he seemed quite taken with you.”
Guy folded his arms. “The odious Mr. Stewart! This is surprising.”
“This is Berry’s imagination,” Meg said, her cheeks heating fiercely.
“Berry also said Sir Roderick came to Caransay,” Angela said. “But I was sure you would not be taken with him, though he makes it rather clear that he is interested in you.”
“Too interested,” Meg said.
“I heard through the bank that he went out there to see you,” Guy said.
