Page 15 of Beguiled
“Thank you,” David murmured. He didn’t know what else to say. He’d never looked to get the money back and he didn’t need it. But clearly it was important to Euan that the debt be repaid, so he tucked the purse into his pocket.
“How long will you be in town?” he asked after a pause.
“For the duration of the King’s stay. I’ll write three or four pieces, I expect.Impressions of Edinburgh During the King’s Visit. Something like that.” Euan nodded at the window. “It won’t all be about this type of thing. Tomorrow I’m going down to the Cowgate slums.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d need to visit them to write about them,” David replied quietly. “You’ve stayed there yourself.”
“That feels like a long time ago,” Euan replied.
“Only two years.”
“A lot’s changed for me since then. Unpopular asFlint’sis with the powers that be, it sells well and I get paid good money for what I do. I live quite well now. Not as grand as you”—he smiled, raising an eyebrow at David—“but well enough. I’ve gotten used to my comforts. I need to go back to remind myself what it’s like in those old tenements.”
Just then, the rest of David’s guests sent up a little cheer, drawing their attention back to the windows. Euan craned his neck to see out and began to scribble in his notebook again.
It wasn’t long before the procession was over, the cavalcade of peers and troops on its way down the Mound, the crowds that had lined the streets below since early morning slowly dissipating.
Within half an hour of it being over, a knock came at the door. David went to answer it and was surprised to find a footman in livery standing there. His thin, pale face was coolly impassive but for the faintest curl of his upper lip. That curl—that almost imperceptible sneer—betrayed his contempt of David’s modest rooms.
“Lady Kinnell’s manservant,” the man said by way of clipped introduction. “Here to escort her to her carriage.”
Suddenly, Elizabeth was at David’s shoulder.
“Fraser,” she said in a strained tone of voice. “What are you doing here? Mr. Ferguson is taking me home.”
Fraser’s expression didn’t alter. “His lordship sent me,” he informed her. The tone of his voice was neutral, and yet that faint sneer remained in place.
David could see that this man did not respect his mistress.
Elizabeth nodded jerkily. “I need to put my bonnet on,” she said. “Wait here, please.”
David didn’t like the way the man inclined his head, as though granting her leave. He didn’t like his cold demeanour or his watchfulness. He had the distinct feeling that every detail Fraser saw was being stored away for future use.
When Elizabeth came back, she had her sister and brother-in-law in tow. Catherine looked as though she was trying to hide her anger. Ferguson looked wary.
“It’s perfectly all right,” Elizabeth was saying to her sister soothingly. “Alasdair’s just being considerate. He’s very protective; you know that.”
Catherine looked far from convinced. Her brow was pleated with worry, her normally smiling mouth pinched and unhappy. Her frown didn’t ease even when Elizabeth leaned in to buss her cheek.
“Will we see you tomorrow, Lizzie?” she asked, a fretful edge to her voice.
“I hope so,” said Elizabeth with a small smile, one that she extended to her sister’s husband before she turned to David. Her expression became very reserved.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Lauriston,” she said coolly. Her tone invited no intimacy in front of her watchful manservant.
“You’re welcome, my lady,” David said, equally formally, taking his lead from her. He thought he saw a glimmer of gratitude in her dark gaze for a moment, but it was gone so quickly he might’ve imagined it, and then she was sweeping out the door, her servant at her heels.
It struck David as he watched her leave that she looked as though she was going to face some ordeal, and that the man escorting her acted more like a gaoler than a manservant.
Was he being fanciful? Reading more into what he saw because of what Balfour had told him? But no, Elizabeth’s own words, her distress at Euan’s story about his mother, the way she hid herself behind that distant mask in front of her servant, and most of all, those bruises on her neck—all of it pointed to something being terribly wrong. As David closed the door behind her, he couldn’t help but feel worried and angry. Couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see her again, or if her husband would spirit her off to his estate, far away in Galloway, and keep her there.
“Davy.”
He turned to find Euan standing behind him, seeming agitated. The Fergusons must’ve returned to the parlour—there was no one else in the hall.
“I’m sorry, but I must go now,” Euan said. His eyes flickered past David to the closed door. “I had no idea what time it was. I’m…a bit late for something.”
He stepped forward, and David automatically moved aside.