Page 24 of Victorian Bride

“Lottie is still abed.” Eleanora marked her place in the book and set it aside. “She always sleeps particularly late after parties. Tired, as you say.” She paused to take a bite of toast. “How was your first ball, now that you have had some time to think on it?”

“I enjoyed it. It was nice to go out, and to meet new people.” She wondered if she ought to pry into whatever had happened between Eleanora and Lottie the night before. Would it offend the other woman if she asked? “What of you? Did you enjoy the night?”

Eleanora cut a slice from her sausage, but did not eat it yet. “I did. Though some of the company could have been better.”

“Is that what you were upset about last night?” The words were out before Mya had time to stop them.

Eleanora looked up sharply, eyebrows lifted. “I beg your pardon?”

Mya shrank back a little in her seat, wishing she had decided to leave well enough alone. “I saw you and Lottie last night. In the hall. I did not stay to listen, but you looked as though you were unhappy.”

“Oh.” Eleanora chuckled. “That. I thought you were referring to the ballroom. I would hate to have given our gracious hosts the impression that I did not thoroughly adore their lovely party.”

There was an edge to the words that Mya took to mean Eleanora had not thoroughly adored the ball at all.

“We were discussing Mrs. Auteberry's obvious attempt at a slight. Which I could have taken in better grace, I admit.”

“A slight?”

“You were there, I think, when she introduced me to that English bloke. She knew quite well I would have no interest in dancing with the man. I suppose it is her way of taking some small revenge for my dislike of her, which she seems to have at last picked up on.”

“Is it because he's English?”

Eleanora took a deep breath, and a bite of sausage. When she had finished chewing, she nodded. “I am afraid I am not particularly fond of them, after everything they put this country through. Though please take care not to go around repeating that. There are those who would do more than simply take offense at my attitude.”

“I am sorry,” Mya said, surprised Eleanora would take a dislike of someone simply because of where they were from. It didn’t seem like her. “I don’t know much of the history, and did not mean to start an unpleasant breakfast discussion.”

“Not at all.” Eleanora smiled at her. “As you say, you did not know. It is hardly your fault that you do not know the country's history when you cannot even remember your own.” She fell silent then.

Mya wondered if she was going to say anything more. She poured herself a cup of tea, and considered speaking up to change the subject before the silence between them became awkward.

“My family,” Eleanora said finally, “has never been terribly fond of the English. We fought against them more than once, and paid the price for that too. After the last rebellion, the English outlawed the kilt and the tartan. That act has since been repealed, and in recent years Queen Victoria's interest in our clothes has made them not only acceptable, but desirable. Yet those English who flock to flaunt their new fashion do not understand that those things were taken from us. That we have only just begun wearing them again. They have no concept of the Highlands, nor of our way of life. And, in truth, it angers me to see it.”

“It seems a reasonable complaint to me,” Mya said, between bites of egg.

“Of course it does. You are Scottish, whatever forgotten details your history might hold.” She tipped her head slightly to the side, regarding Mya thoughtfully. “Though your name is Boyle. That was an opposing clan of ours. So your clan and mine did fight on opposite sides in the Jacobite uprisings. But I will not hold that against you.”

She smiled as she said it, and Mya laughed. “I appreciate your generosity, truly.”

Lottie appeared in the doorway of the dining room, wearing a dressing gown and still half asleep, her hair loose. She dropped down into a seat next to Eleanora and served herself a pile of cold fish and toast with eggs.

“It is so nice of you to join us, darling,” Eleanora said, lips curling up at the corners in a fond, amused smile. “I do hope you slept well?”

“If I had slept any better, I think I would have to be dead,” Lottie said. She grinned at Mya. “I think you did not sleep as well as I did. You still look tired. Flushed, but tired all the same.”

That, Mya did not explain, was Kayden's fault. He was quite exhausting. She definitely was sure she wasn’t ready to share that information with her hosts. At least, not yet.

“It was a very long night,” she said instead.

Lottie was too busy eating to answer, and Mya turned to her own food. No one spoke for a short while, all of them thoroughly enjoying their breakfasts. It was surprising how hungry dancing, and other things, could make a person.

One of the maids, entering from the front of the house, broke the quiet.

“Someone here to see you, Miss Boyle,” she said, dipping a curtsy. “Do you wish me to tell them you are still breakfasting?”

“Who is it, Anna?” Lottie asked.

“Lord McGregor, miss,” the maid answered.