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Kathleen stood, dredging up a smile. “Thank you. Truly.”
Gillian gave her a sympathetic hug. “We’ll have great fun, you’ll see.”
“As long as I stay out of trouble.”
If anything went wrong, Kathleen was fairly sure she’d spend the rest of her life in a corner of Scotland barely on the map.
“Once you’re out of town, the gossip will die down and people will soon forget what happened. With a little luck, you might even be home by Christmas.”
Luck.
Kathleen had the feeling her luck had run out—permanently.
Chapter Three
Kathleen nudged aside the breakfast plate of boiled eggs and smoked ham. The Leverton traveling coach was luxurious and well sprung, but it was best not to tempt fate. Except when she was handling the reins or on the back of a horse, travel made her as queasy as a vicar with a hangover.
It didn’t help that after only a few days on the road, she already missed her stepsisters. Jeannie had been particularly inconsolable about the separation, convinced that her mother would turn even more rigid and censorious without Kathleen to catch fire for her. Sadly, the girl was probably right. Helen would be alert to any sign of inappropriate behavior and no doubt react with swift and merciless judgment.
Gillian sailed into the inn’s private dining parlor, garbed in an elegant, hunter-green traveling dress. “Good morning, dearest. I hope you slept well.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Gillian eyed her. “Don’t tell fibs, Kath. I can tell you didn’t get much sleep. Again.”
“Is it the bags under my eyes? They’re almost as big as my portmanteau.”
“You look lovely, as always. Just a little pale.”
“Ah, my freckles gave me away.”
The paler Kathleen got the more her freckles stood out. It was one of the things she most hated about them—that, and the fact that they all but glowed when she blushed. After Helen, freckles were the bane of her existence.
“I love your freckles,” Gillian replied. “You look sprinkled with cocoa. I’m sure the men find it absolutely enchanting.”
Kathleen snorted. “My brother once said it looked like the maid shook her duster out over my head.”
“Dear me, I must be sure to accidentally trip Richard the next time I see him.”
“In his defense, he was only twelve at the time.”
“I’ll still have to punish him.” Gillian smiled at the serving girl, who’d come in with a fresh pot of tea. “Thank you. Please take away Miss Calvert’s dish and bring her plain toast. Perhaps a pot of jam, too.”
The girl bobbed a curtsy. “Will there be anything else?”
“I’ll have scones and clotted cream. And coffee.”
Kathleen sighed with relief. The odor of smoked ham was curdling her insides.
“I’m sorry to be such a pain, Gillian.”
“Nonsense. Traveling does tend to make one’s stomach twitchy.”
“Says the woman who ate a hearty beef dinner last night.”
“I’ve always been disgustingly healthy. One time our household came down with a dreadful case of the grippe, and Charles was positively green around the gills, poor lamb. But I never turned a hair.”
“That was lucky.”
