Page 80 of Ghost of the Ton

“Did ye write to tell him about…” Hamish began, then his voice trailed off as he caught his sister watching him, intensity in her expression.

“That our marriage is to be annulled and I am to leave for England?” Mia said. “Why would I not? He’s a dear friend in whom I can confide.” She leaned forward. “Don’t you see? This means that I can leave sooner than intended, for I’ll not need my whole fortune returned. I can—”

Hamish raised his hand. “I’ve no wish to discuss yer leaving us when ye’re our guest for dinner.”

Or at all.

“Very well,” she replied, smiling, and this time a gleam of mirth shone in her eyes. “Perhaps we should restrict our conversation to the weather.”

“Or the school,” Ma said. “Have ye told Hamish that ye’re teaching at the school tomorrow?”

Euphramia gave a shy smile and a delicate bloom spread across her cheeks, making her look quite beautiful.

“Are ye?” Hamish said.

She nodded. “Just the rudiments of tying a bandage, dressing a wound, and so forth. I thought I might show them the ginger root Dr. McIver sent me.”

Dr. bloody McIver! Why was she always singing his praises? He was a mortal man, not a bloody saint.

Hamish focused on his meal to temper his envy, then he glanced up to see Iona staring at him, understanding in her eyes. But other than curl her lips in a sneer, she said nothing.

“Ye’ll need to watch out for Billy,” Hamish said.

“I’m sure Mia can handle one wee boy if she can handle a great big brute like yerself,” Ma said, “though that poor lass Evie has a great deal to put up with, what with her Murdoch.”

“There’s naught wrong with Murdoch, Ma,” Hamish said. “He just expects his wife to honor the vows she made.”

Mia let out a snort that ended in a fit of coughing.

“Are ye well, lass?” Ma said.

“Quite so,” Mia replied, reaching for her wine glass. “But I’ve often wondered why the marriage vows are written as such, and why the bride’s adherence to the vows is expected by the world when the groom may often do what he pleases.”

“Not all men break their marriage vows, surely?” Hamish said.

“I’m sure a man exists somewhere who abides by the principle of the vows he’s uttered,” she said. “But where a man does not—and I think we can safely say that most do not—he won’t suffer the vilification that a woman suffers on breaking her vows. Even if a woman is merely under suspicion of breaking her vows, she is assumed to be guilty and subject to gossip.”

“For example?” Hamish said.

She took a mouthful of wine and straightened, as if readying herself for the challenge.

“Such as the vows of fidelity.”

Hamish glanced at his sister, who was watching Mia, mouth open.

“As you are no doubt aware, excepting Eilidh here,” Mia continued, “the only true friend I have made at Glenblath is Maisie, who is vilified by most for how she earns her living—vilified by the very men who break their marriage vows and purchase her services.”

Iona drew in a sharp breath while Ma remained silent.

“Euphramia,” Hamish said, glancing at his sister, “this is hardly an appropriate subject for…”

Iona let out a chuckle, which she silenced as Hamish shot her a look of fury.

“Perhaps it ought to be,” Ma said. “After all, haven’t ye—”

“Ma!” Hamish cried, and Iona laughed again.

“If I’d known she’d be so entertaining, I’d have insisted ye invite her for dinner sooner, brother,” Iona said. “Her conversation makes up for having to look at her face.” She turned to Mia and grinned, showing even white teeth. “Well…almost.”