Page 38 of A Scottish Widow for the Duke

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A project, nae a person? Aye, the nerve of this woman, Elspeth thought to herself as she willed herself to remain calm.

“There are rumors, you know. Not that I believe them, of course! I stay away from gossip as much as I can, but people tend to tell me things.”

Elspeth’s brow furrowed as she prepared herself for what was beneath the surface of her comments. “Rumors, Lady Gerson?”

“Oh, nothing to trouble your pretty little head with,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand that made the feathers in her hat sway violently, one dropping into a cup of tea. “But there are whispers about certain unconventional habits amongst Scottish women. They are a different breed than the English.”

A different breed?!

“Is there a touch of the wild Highlands in you, perhaps? I recall reading about certain occult practices that are rather common up there.”

The insinuation hung in the air, thick and unpleasant. Elspeth felt her blood run cold at her boldness, then boil with indignation. She knew what the woman was getting at now.

If she wants a witch, I will show her one by outwittin’ her.

“My dear Lady Gerson, if ye are suggestin’ that I dabble in the dark arts, or whatever other foolish notion ye have conjured in yer mind, then ye are sorely mistaken,” Elspeth said, her Scottish brogue becoming fiery with her rising anger. “I am a respectable woman with a love for God and his good green earth, good fun. I like the feelin’ I get from helping others who are less fortunate, with me own hands instead of waitin’ for someone else to do it.”

“Of course you are a respectable woman,” Lady Gerson said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “But one does hear tales of Highland lasses who can read fortunes in tea leaves, or perhaps even cast a spell or two. The real reason I bring it up is that a cousin of a cousin of mine, a Mrs. Drabble, took a vacation in Edinburgh and she heard that you Lady Inverhall, well, she said that you threw these wild parties where all sorts of things happened.”

“Wild parties?” Verity pressed, her voice flat. “What is the manner of this, Lady Gerson? I stayed at Inverhall myself, and I will tell you that it is a most respectable stronghold of Scottish culture and propriety!”

“She said she had it on good authority that they would get themselves all covered in mud under the full moon and cast spells!” Lady Gerson said, her voice now breathless. “There, I have said it! I did not want to, but I felt I must. As a duty to my lord husband!”

Verity, ever the quick wit in their group, interjected. “Well, if Elspeth could truly cast spells, I imagine she would have turned you into a toad by now, Lady Gerson. And an ugly one at that.”

Lady Gerson’s jaw tightened, and she looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon the way her lips pursed into the thinnest line Elspeth had ever seen. It took everything Elspeth had not to laugh, yet she was impressed by how quickly she composed herself.

“Such humor, Lady Verity,” she said as she rose from her chair, leaning over the table. “You are lucky I have thick skin. Regardless, there are still those of us who believe in such things. And one must be careful about who one associates with. His grace, after all, is a very important man. As a member of my family, I take his well-being to heart. It is the only reason I bring it up!”

“And I am a very important woman in me own right,” Elspeth said. “And I willnae have me character questioned by someone who kens nothin’ about me or where I come from.”

“What you are doin’ here is akin to libel,” Marion said then.

“I suggest ye hold your tongue, Lady Gerson, unless ye want me to tell yer husband exactly what you were insinuatin’ about me.”

Lady Gerson paled, her carefully constructed facade beginning to crack once more. “Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lady Inverhall. I was only making conversation. I was trying to speak to your cultural habits, to make you feel welcome, to-”

“Any supposed magical abilities I possess are nothin’ more than a bit of old wives’ wisdom, passed down from me maither. I can tell ye when a storm is comin’ by the way the wind smells, or that ye need to add a pinch of salt to yer tea to make it taste better. That is hardly witchcraft, is it? It’s common sense.”

“I suppose,” Lady Gerson said, taking a handkerchief and dabbing her sweaty brow. “No need to be so sensitive,” she said as she walked away.

With a final, withering look, Elspeth turned her back on Lady Gerson and took a steadying sip of her tea, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Well, that was impressive,” Verity said, a look of awe on her face. “You set her straight, and in her own home. Hopefully she thinks twice next time before pushing someone down to make herself look taller.”

“Aye, she had it comin’,” Elspeth said, taking another shaky sip of her tea.

“Aye, that she did,” Marion agreed, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “I must admit, for a moment there, I was half-expectin’ a cauldron to appear from behind the potted palm though!”

The three laughed, a boisterous, joyous sound. The tension finally began to dissipate from Elspeth’s shoulders as she rolled them back.

“And I was half-expectin’ to have to turn her into a toad,” she confessed, a wry smile on her lips.

“You are incorrigible,” Verity teased.

“I ken…I ken…” Elspeth laughed.

“And we wouldnae have her any other way,” Marion added.