Page 7 of Highland Vows of Betrayal

“Aye.” Scarlett slid the locket toward Eloise, who picked it up with interest, marveling, her lips parted in a round O shape.

“I can scarcely believe it,” she whispered, her words coming in such a rush that they overran one another, hardly making sense. “My mother told me ye had one. As she was dying, she said this is how I would find ye someday. I hardly believed it.”

“’Tis real gold?” Scarlett was amazed and nearly choked on her whisky. She hadn’t considered the idea that she would ever own anything of true value. “Are ye certain? I own nothing of such value.” Scarlett gestured to her poor clothes and the tavern she was in. “I dinnae own any real gold.”

“Please, believe me when I say ye do.” Eloise placed her own locket down on the table between them, showing how alike the lockets were. “Did ye ken anything of our mother?”

“This is all moving rather fast.” Scarlett placed the glass on the table and steepled her fingers. “Ye turn up at my door and profess to be me sister—ye must see this is difficult for me tae believe. Aye, mad! Either ye are mad, or I am mad and merely inventing the idea ye are here at all.”

“Is this truly nae enough tae persuade ye?” Eloise asked and raised the lockets between them, her hands moving gently. It struck Scarlett once again how different they were in manner. Where Scarlett would have snatched the lockets, Eloise moved slowly, like a gentle doe in the forest.

I imagine when this lady dances, she is a fine sight tae see. I’m likely to fall over and make a fool of myself.

“It is certainly compelling.” Scarlett had to nod as she looked at the necklaces. “Yet… even ye must admit, this seems mad.” She gestured between them. “Ye said something of our mother…”

“I did.” Eloise sat forward eagerly.

Scarlett fidgeted uncomfortably, moving her glass on the table before her. For so long, she had wished to know something of her parents. To think she could be about to hear the first description of her mother was tempting. Her shock was overwhelming though, as if she still wanted to deny it to protect her from disappointment.

“Let us say I do believe this for now.”

“I am telling the truth,” Eloise pleaded, leaning forward. “I beg of ye tae believe me. I have spent so long looking for ye, ever since our mother passed. She told me the truth as she lay dying, and the similarity between us is proof of it.”

“Have ye nae heard of doppelgangers?” Scarlett asked. “This could be some magical coincidence.”

“A coincidence to what extent?” Eloise said, gesturing between them. “We are even the same height, are we nae?”

“We appear to be.”

“Do ye have any markings on yer body, too? How about a small fleck at yer hip?” Eloise reached for her own hip and placed her hand on it.

“How dae ye ken that!?” Scarlett nearly knocked the glass off the table.

“Because we are one and the same. Well, two and the same.”

“If I wake up screaming in a minute, I will ken this is a dream,” Scarlett muttered.

She kent of the birthmark, too.

“Ye arenae dreaming,” Eloise murmured, her hands shaking as she took hold of the glass.

“Ye are cold.”

“Just a little.”

Scarlett stood and crossed the tavern. She cast a worried glance at the door separating the bar from the rooms, concerned that Athol would come in at any moment. She prayed he was too busy with his courtesan to notice that she had yet to leave the bar.

Taking the whisky bottle, she returned to the table and topped off their glasses, setting the bottle between them.

“This will help,” Scarlett said as she sat down. “Ye were going to talk of yer mother.”

“Our mother,” Eloise corrected with a smile. Scarlett’s hand was the one to shake this time as she took hold of the glass.

“What was she like?” She tried not to sound too excited by the prospect of hearing about her, but she had wondered about her mother her entire life.

“She was the best of women.” Eloise’s smile made Scarlett press her lips together in a firm line.

How could she be the best of women if she gave me up?