“And now the ward of said brother.”
“Goodness,” the countess murmured. “It’sHamlet.”
“Except I’m a woman and he means to marry me to his awful cousin. I had to get out. I had to!”
“Well, she wouldn’t be a lady anyway. A granddaughter does not have the title.”
Oh. Right. But with her airs and her heritage, everyone called her Lady Iseabail. Her uncle insisted.
Meanwhile, Sadie stepped forward. “It’s true, my lady.” She shot Mairi a hard glare. “She escaped and ran to me. I took her as my maid—”
“To do what?” Mairi rasped. Why could no one think their actions through? “Do you marry an English footman then? Will he get your dowry?”
The countess straightened up. “Dowry? What dowry?”
“Five hundred gold coins,” Mairi said.
“I don’t know that it’s still there,” Iseabail said, her voice tight. “My uncle probably spent them already.”
“That is your groom’s problem.” The countess gestured Iseabail forward. “Come on. Head up. Step forward and let me look at you.” She frowned. “Pretty face and the Scots call you a lady. That means a very great deal to some. I don’t like the red hair and you’re a Scot, so that weighs against you. Nevertheless, I think I can do something with you.”
Sadie frowned. Clearly, she hadn’t been around long enough to realize that the countess lived to matchmake. Her every thought was about a girl’s assets on the Marriage Mart and how they could be promoted to best advantage.
Mairi folded her arms. “Do you mean to get married, Iseabail? It’s the only way out from under your uncle’s thumb.”
The woman nodded. “But I haven’t any money. How will I get dresses and hats? These aren’t even my own shoes—”
“Tut.” The countess waved her to silence. “There are ways around that.” Her gaze cut across the room. “Three Scottish girls of modest means, and one with a title of sorts. Hmmm.” She tapped her fingers on her lips. “I can do it,” she said firmly. “If you listen to me. Every one of you must swear to do exactly as I say when I say it. Otherwise, you can leave my home now and do whatever poor people do when they have no possibility of better.”
What were they to say to that?
“Of course, we will,” they all said. And because Mairi had lived with the lady for longer than any of the others, she added an extra benefit for the lady.
“I’ll teach them to run your household, too. Between the three of us, you won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Not a finger?” the woman cried. “Do you think it is easy to plan a come out? Of not one butthreeyoung ladies?”
“No, my lady.”
“No!” she snapped as she stood up. “It is not. But mark my words, I’ll see that you all get husbands and you’ll be grateful for it.” The woman headed for the door with a hard swish of her skirts. She appeared to be furious, but Mairi wasn’t fooled. There was a martial gleam in her eyes and her lips twitched with pleasure. The countess adored nothing more than being a warrior in the social whirl.
Mairi opened the door for her as the lady sailed out. Then the woman paused in the hallway, looking back over her shoulder just as Sadie had been practicing a few moments before.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” she said. “Downstairs, the lot of you. I’ll see you three walking like ladies before bed tonight. And then tomorrow, the real work begins.”
Sadie and Iseabail exchanged a startled look, then both rushed to follow. Mairi was the last to go, her heart and her mind still torn. Her mind told her to follow smartly. She was a prize as a wife, and some lucky Sassenach was going to be grateful for her. But her heart still lingered down the hallway with Connall. What if his fever spiked? What if he grew delirious?
What if he woke and decided that marrying Lady Iseabail was the best choice for him? The woman knew how to run a household, was a titled Scotswoman, and she wasright here.What if he picked her? That was an unsettlingly close possibility.
“Miss MacAdaidh!” the countess called from down the stairs. “I will not tolerate dawdlers. Do you come and learn how to be a lady? Or do you—”
“Coming!” she cried as she rushed forward. “I thought to check on the duke’s health.”
The woman frowned. “Is he ailing?”
“No more than before.”
The woman pressed her lips tight as she looked toward Connall’s room. She was worried, though about what, Mairi had no idea. Did she fear for Connall’s survival or fear having illness in the house? Either way, she had a practical mindset that Mairi appreciated. “Does he need more attention?” asked the countess.
“No, my lady.”
“Then come down here and learn something!”
“Yes, my lady.”
And so it was done.
