Chapter 14
“This red satin would be perfect for you, Muireall,” Kirsty said as she held up a few yards of fabric at Mrs. Dunleven’s dress shop. Payden and James were two storefronts down at the tailor’s, getting fitted for formal suits.
“I will not be wearing red satin,” Muireall hissed. “I would never put myself on display in that way. I am twenty-six years old.”
“And maybe that’s why she never steps out with anyone,” Kirsty said in a whisper to Elspeth.
“Be kind,” she said. “She’s had much on her mind. Although I hope she doesn’t pick some dowdy flannel buttoned up to her neck.”
Both turned their head when they heard Aunt Murdoch raise her voice. “No black, and none of this gray either. Look at this green. We could do the trim in rose or this pale yellow. What do you think?”
“Oh, Miss Thompson! That color is especially lovely with your hair and with the yellow trim,” Mrs. Dunleven said. “Let me show you some patterns.”
Muireall was led off to a seating area by Aunt and Mrs. Dunleven to look at a large book of designs. Elspeth was glad Muireall had not put up a bigger fuss because now she felt as if she could focus on what she wanted to wear to the Pendergast ball. She fingered a bolt of sky-blue satin.
“That’s beautiful. And look!” Kirsty said, pulling Elspeth to the end of the long table of fabrics. “Look at this lace with the blue forget-me-nots. It would perfect over that satin.”
Elspeth spent a pleasant afternoon with her sisters and aunt, different than she could recall for some time. Of course, she and Kirsty enjoyed themselves and met with friends and even went to plays together before, but she could not remember the last time Muireall joined them for any outing.
“I could swear Muireall smiled just a moment ago,” Kirsty said as she threaded her arm through Elspeth’s and they walked down the street after their visit to Mrs. Dunleven. Aunt and Muireall were in front of them, and Payden and James were following behind.
“I think she enjoyed herself today,” Elspeth said. “I think she feels the weight of everything heavily on her shoulders. It is nice to see her relax for a moment or two.”
“That man wanted to know what side my bollocks hang on, James,” Payden said in a loud whisper from behind them. “I told him it wasn’t any of his damn business.”
“Oh Christ, Payden. That’s how they fit your trousers properly, and anyway, we don’t talk about that on the street, especially with your sisters nearby,” James said.
Elspeth glanced back and smiled at James, who shook his head and put his hand on the back of Payden’s neck, guiding him and laughing aloud. It was a good moment, Elspeth thought later. It was a family moment, as James was the only father figure Payden had, and he’d been a good one. Steady and thoughtful and gruff sometimes, which was necessary considering the boy had three older sisters and a great aunt who spoiled and coddled him.
James was the one who required Payden to work alongside Robert, washing pots and pans, raking their small yard in the back of their home, and learning how to darn his own socks. It didn’t matter at all that Father had not sired James. Not at all. James was the son of the chief of the clan in every way except the investiture. Father must have rested easy in his final moments, she thought, knowing that James, even at eleven years of age, would grow into the type of man who could raise up the next Earl of Taviston.
When they were finally home, Kirsty excitedly told Mrs. McClintok about all of the dresses they’d ordered as they pulled off hats and gloves. Payden tore off to his room, dragging Robert along. Elspeth climbed the stairs, letting the family noise fade into the background, even Muireall’s claim that dinner was only an hour away.
She shut her door behind her, thankful again, as she’d been so many times, that each of them had their own sleeping room. That their home was spacious enough for six good-sized bedrooms on the second floor and the same amount on the third floor, where Mrs. McClintok and Robbie had their bedrooms and a sitting room. There was also a sewing room on the third floor with a large table and good lighting beside a room set up for Payden’s and Robert’s studies.
Elspeth locked her door with her skeleton key, something she rarely did, but she just did not want to be disturbed. She unbuttoned her dress, pulled off her petticoats and stays, and slipped her arms into a large, worn flannel dressing gown in the Taviston plaid that had been her mother’s. Now she knew why that plaid was so significant, why so many of her mother’s and father’s clothes, still in leather-strapped trunks in the attics, had swatches of this plaid. Why her father’s kilts were the same.
She sank down into a worn chintz-covered chair, comfortably soft and large enough to pull up her feet beside her as she gazed out the window. She could see carts and horses in the alley through the leaves on the branches of the neighbor’s oak tree that waved near her window. She’d had little time to think about what had been said that afternoon, when everything in her world had changed. Finally knowing the mysteries that surrounded her family and slowly realizing her ignorance may have been better in some ways. Payden kidnapped! James, just a boy, with an infant in one arm and a dagger in his hand, prepared to defend himself and his charge at all costs. An escape across the ocean for them all. And finally, most horribly, Mother and Father’s murder.
Aunt Murdoch must have been terrified knowing that their killer was on the vessel with little recourse other than to guard them all in one berth, abandoning the larger one where Mother and Father had died, and her own accommodations. She remembered sleeping in a narrow bunk with Kirsty, and James sleeping under a blanket on the floor against the door, even though the lock had been turned above him. Muireall in a bunk below her, holding Payden, and Aunt dozing in a chair. How many days had they stayed in the same room together, only Aunt and Elspeth with her to carry, venturing out for food, until they came to the New York wharf? She never really understood the panic she’d felt, only that it was there, turning her stomach and making her jump at every noise.
Elspeth remembered the ride in the carriage, with all the trunks loaded in another conveyance, making their way away from the busy harbor to a fancy hotel. She remembered feeling so free, having a suite with a large living area, two bedrooms, and hotel staff that came to their rooms with clean towels and bedding and meals. She remembered Aunt telling them that they were staying for a few weeks to rest and recover from the long voyage.
And she remembered being awoken in the middle of the night just a few days after their arrival, Muireall telling her to dress quickly and help Kirsty. They left all the things they’d carried into the rooms, even Kirsty’s doll, who she’d clung to and slept with. Elspeth remembered walking a quiet hallway and down a set of steps, coming out in the kitchens of the hotel. She remembered walking past massive stoves and cloth carts stacked high with towels. She remembered climbing into a closed carriage and rattling off into the night.
She had suppressed those memories. Had she ever left off the feeling of an impending disaster? She didn’t think she had, and she didn’t think Muireall had either. The view outside was suddenly blurred. She let herself cry for her nine-year-old self and the loss of the two people in her life that had been everything to her. She cried for the moment that she had realized her world was no longer secure and sure and perfect.