Page 12 of Victorian Bride

At breakfast the following morning, Mya felt as though Lottie and Eleanora would be able to read on her face what she’d dreamed about. Her cheeks felt constantly hot, burning with the memory of the dream. It had faded, somewhat, since the early hours of the night, but she could remember enough. She was certain that if she looked at them they would know she was hiding something, even if they couldn’t guess what it was. Thank goodness Lord McGregor wasn’t around; she’d die of embarrassment for sure.

Lottie, of course, knew right away. Mya thought Eleanora had likely noticed something was off and simply hadn’t mentioned it. Staring intently at her food and not meeting anyone’s eyes had likely not been the most subtle course of action, she had to admit to herself when Lottie got up from her own chair to drop lightly into the one beside Mya’s.

“If you are attempting to hide from us,” she said, “I believe you might be better served by not being in the same room.”

A nervous giggle rushed up Mya’s throat, too quickly to stifle. There was a moment of startled silence from Lottie. Slowly, not sure she even wanted to see the expression on the other woman’s face, Mya lifted her head to find Lottie looking at her with one eyebrow lifted, her expression otherwise carefully blank. “I…” Mya looked down at her food again.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Lottie said. “We promise not to be scandalized.” A smile slipped into her voice. “That is, I promise not to be scandalized. Ella promises nothing. She is constantly scandalized.”

“Even if that had once been true,” Eleanora retorted from across the table, “living with you, Lottie, has utterly ruined my ability to be anything of the sort.” Her voice gentled. “Mya, dear, if you wish to talk about it, you may. If not, simply tell Lottie to mind her own business. She will not actually make you give up any information you would rather keep to yourself.”

“That’s true,” Lottie said. “I will not.”

Mya pulled her lower lip between her teeth, sighing. Of all the people in the world she might discuss the dream with, Lottie and Ella were hardly the worst options. And perhaps they would be able to give her some aid in how to deal with it. Preferably in such a way that she could avoid turning bright red any time she came within five feet of Lord McGregor.

“I had a dream,” she said, the words coming up much softer than she’d meant to say them. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I had a dream of a rather… intimate sort. I suppose I find it rather embarrassing, truth be told.”

Lottie leaned forward in her chair, eyes shining. “Is that all? I’m quite sure that you are not the only person who’s had such dreams. Do not worry yourself about it. And you are welcome to tell it to me—to us—in as much detail as you like.”

That reaction didn’t surprise Mya at all. Eleanora’s soft chuckle, however, did. Mya looked up at the other woman, wondering what it was she found so amusing.

“You need not be embarrassed about it,” Eleanora said. “I wouldn’t go announcing it to the world at large, but we two are not going to judge you for such things. As Lottie said, you are hardly the only person to have them.”

The words were somehow more reassuring coming from Eleanora. Lottie, Mya expected to be completely unconcerned about the issue, but Eleanora appeared to be rather conservative in comparison. It was a relief to know that she was not going to be judged.

“Who was it about?” Lottie asked.

Mya felt her cheeks go hot. “It was—” She swallowed.

“You do not have to say,” Eleanora remarked, shooting a warning look at Lottie.

She knew that she didn’t, but Lottie’s gaze was still fixed expectantly on her, and Mya found that she wanted to say the name aloud.

“It was about Lord McGregor,” she admitted, looking away and trying to ignore the fact that her entire face felt as though it was on fire.

“Oh…” Lottie sat back in her seat with a dejected air. “Well that was completely expected.”

Mya stared at her. And then she laughed. “Are you serious? That’s all the reaction I get? ‘Well that was expected’? I’m mortified, and you’re… disappointed?”

“I would have been much more interested if you had said the dream was about Doctor MacAslan,” Lottie said, eyes twinkling.

“You are a very odd specimen of human,” Mya answered, shaking her head.

The conversation might have gone on, if the maid had not entered just then with a quick little curtsy and an envelope in her hand. “The mail, missus,” she announced.

“Thank you, Mary,” Eleanora said, reaching out to take the envelope.

Lottie turned away from Mya at last to stare at the letter in Eleanora’s hand as the maid scurried out again. “What is it?”

“Give me a moment,” Eleanora said, rising from the table to take a letter opener from the desk in the corner of the room. “And I will tell you.” When she had slit the heavy envelope open, she drew out a piece of paper and scanned the contents. “It seems,” she said, her eyes moving left to right, “that we are invited to a party in eight days' time.”

“Whose party?” Lottie demanded, standing to move behind Eleanora and read over her shoulder.

“Mr. and Mrs. Auteberry. For their daughter.”

“Hmm. Not the people I would have picked, but a party is a party.” Lottie turned a smile on Mya. “You’ll be coming with us, of course.”

Mya didn't know how to argue with that. She was simply too grateful the conversation had been turned to another topic and she didn’t have to go into detail about her dream that had felt so real.