Failure was not an option. He wouldn’t be able to face his friends with a failed business. They had already warned him of the purchase years ago, but he wouldn’t listen. He needed this to be successful just to prove them wrong.
*
Jocelyn waited forthe laird to re-enter the dining hall, but after Flora returned three times asking her if she needed anything else, she came to the conclusion that he was off on business.
She had wanted to approach him about employment. “Flora. Do you know when the laird will return?”
“I dinna ken, miss. Shall I give him a message when he does?”
Jocelyn thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No, thank you. I will try to catch him later. Thank you for breakfast. Your laird was right when he said your cook made the best scones. They were divine.”
Leaving the dining hall, she made her way up to her room. Mayhap she should have a look around town and see what other establishments were there. Maybe one was advertising for help.
Securing her reticule around her wrist, she exited her room, locking the door behind her. Downstairs, there was still no sign of the laird, so she left the inn to familiarize herself with the town.
The inn was near the town center, which Jocelyn found quite quaint. The vernacular buildings added charm and made the street seem welcoming. The cobblestoned streets were clean and there was a crispness in the air that reminded her of autumn and warm apple cider. A treat her mother would always purchase this time of year. Jocelyn would always savor that first sip as she sat on the bench in their small garden, watching the turning leaves sway in the wind, their vibrant colors splashed against the gray sky.
Or perhaps she was reading into it because that’s what she wanted it to be. At this point, she had no choice but to make a home here. She was at the end of her coin. Thankfully, it ran out in a town that looked like it could be one she could settle in.
Blend in.
That’s all she really wanted. To meld in with society and not be bothered.
As she walked along, she passed a printing press, a bakery, a modiste.
She paused in front of the modiste’s window, peering through the glass. Women lingered inside, chatting with each other as they carefully and excitedly chose the fabric for their new gowns.
How she longed for that. The brilliant colors, the fashionable styles. They would complement her so much more than the drab gray gowns she wore.
She looked down at the dark gray day dress she wore. The color alone made her sad. Never again would she wear this awful, drab color. Peering again through the window of the shop, her eyes flitted over the bright colors, taking note of the ones she liked best.
Once she made some money and got herself settled, she would visit the modiste herself and order a gown.
But it wasn’t only pretty gowns she missed and yearned for. She longed for the camaraderie of good friends. Confidants she could share secrets with. Talk over tea, whether the talk be serious or light-hearted. It would be so nice. She missed having a friend’s support. She’d been so isolated these last few years with Victor.
Dragging her eyes away from the window, she continued on, pulling her bonnet tighter upon her head as a cool drizzle began to fall.
Drats. The rest of her tour would have to wait. She hurried back to the inn, and by the time she burst through the doors, her bonnet and gown were soaked through.
“Miss Jocelyn!” Flora exclaimed, rushing forward.
“I am fine, Flora. It is just a bit of rain.” She held her arms out as water dripped off her sleeves to puddle on the floor.
Flora lifted a brow, unconvinced. “Ye are soaked to the bone. Ye must be freezing.”
“It’s not that bad. Truly, I am well. There’s no need for you to make such a fuss out of something so small.” A forceful shiver ripped through her and her teeth began to rattle.
The girl shook her head and tsked. “Ye could catch your death. Let me have a hot bath brought up to ye,” she said, not waiting for Jocelyn’s agreement. “It will warm ye up and I can launder your gown.”
“I-I,” Jocelyn stuttered, at a loss for words. Such kindness from strangers was a welcome change.
“Go on,” she shooed Jocelyn toward the stairs. “I insist.”
“What are ye insisting on now, Flora?” The laird asked as he walked into the reception area, before he noticed Jocelyn and his eyes widened. “What happened to ye, lass?”
“She was walking out in the rain, my laird. Soaked to the bone, she is. I was insisting on a hot bath to warm her up.”
He cocked his head, eyeing her up and down, before nodding. “I agree. Ye dinna want to catch an ague from the chill.”
