Page 9 of Beguiled
“Considering how much you dislike all this,” Ferguson continued good-naturedly, “it’s good of you to invite so many fellows up to share your view. The rest of us shall certainly be glad of it.”
David merely arched a brow at that, and Ferguson had the grace to laugh, his cheeks pinkening. They both knew that the invitations, to a number of other advocates and solicitors and their wives, had been prompted by Ferguson.
“Oh, and I should mention, you will have one more guest,” Ferguson continued a little shamefacedly. “I hope you don’t mind. I should’ve said earlier.”
David sighed. “Who is it this time?”
“Catherine’s sister Elizabeth is in town with her husband. We popped in on our way over this morning—Kinnell wasn’t in; apparently he has other business to attend to today—but Catherine urged Elizabeth to come along. She felt sure you wouldn’t mind.”
David softened. “No, of course not. I shall be pleased to see Lady Kinnell again.”
More than pleased, actually. Ever since Balfour’s unpleasant comments about Kinnell’s supposed character, Elizabeth had been playing on his mind. David hoped that Balfour was wrong, that he’d been exaggerating about Kinnell’s brutality, and that his speculation about Kinnell’s first wife was merely that—speculation. He knew he wouldn’t feel easy in his own mind till he had satisfied himself Elizabeth was well and happy.
“The ladies are only a few minutes behind me,” Ferguson went on. “They wanted to walk up the last bit of the High Street more slowly and see some of the spectacles going on. They’ll be here shortly, I expect. And the other guests won’t be far behind.” Ferguson cast a worried eye round the kitchen. “Don’t you have anything to drink?”
“It’s all in the parlour,” David assured him. “There’s ale and wine punch. Some lemonade too. Will that do?”
Ferguson smiled. “That sounds perfect.”
David thought of the bottle of whisky he’d put away. Even amongst his fellow Scots, there’d be some disapproving looks if he started in on the hard stuff this early in the day, especially in front of ladies. Oh, why had he agreed to this ridiculous gathering?
A rap on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Ferguson strode to the door before David could make his feet move. Moments later, Catherine bounced in, all glossy curls and sparkly eyes.
“Oh, Mr. Lauriston, how very nice your rooms are!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “I’d imagined some drab old bachelor apartments, but this is very cosy. And oh, do look! I have Elizabeth with me, visiting from herestate, if you please, in Galloway. Doesn’t she look well?”
David’s gaze moved over Catherine’s shoulder to the small person standing behind her.
If the quality of her garments was all he judged, then yes, she looked very well indeed, in a dark blue pelisse and a high poke bonnet decorated with a long curling feather. But that was not all he saw. He saw that her face was thinner and quite pale, and that her dark eyes held, he thought, a faint shadow. Her smile too—a smile he’d always liked a great deal—was a shade dimmer.
With the old plumpness gone from her face, she was conventionally prettier than she’d been the last time he’d seen her, half a year ago. In fact, she was rather beautiful in her way. But all herjoie de vivrehad gone.
“Mr. Lauriston,” she said softly. “How very nice it is to see you again.” She held her hands out to him and he stepped forward, taking both of them in his own and looking down at her upturned face. He remembered the last time they’d stood as close as this. He remembered watching the glow of happiness she’d worn draining away, leaving behind an expression of bewildered hurt.
“I have no intention of taking a wife, Miss Chalmers.”
Christ, he’d been clumsy. “Lady Kinnell,” he said now. He searched her face for a moment, but she quickly averted her eyes and gently tugged her gloved hands out of his grasp, her dashing bonnet obscuring his view of her face as she walked past him to join her sister, who stood at the sash windows.
“Is this where we’ll watch the procession from?” she asked in a brittle tone. “Goodness, what a view! We’re so close to the castle, Mr. Lauriston!”
“And once we raise the windows, we’ll see the whole spectacle perfectly,” Ferguson pointed out, joining the ladies. “Though we’ll have to take turns at the front—there’re quite a few others coming.”
“We passed some spectator stands set up on the street, didn’t we, Lizzie?” Catherine said. “Some of them look very rickety, I think. We’re much better off up here, in comfort and with ten times the view. We’ll see everything from here.”
David and Ferguson exchanged a grin at Catherine’s girlish enthusiasm.
Within another quarter hour, David’s rooms were fairly bursting at the seams. The guests arrived all at once, and as soon as the introductions were made, David and the Fergusons were run off their feet making everyone comfortable and passing round refreshments.
For the first little while, most of David’s guests milled around the windows of the parlour, which gave a bird’s eye view of the Lawnmarket below. David had opened the sash windows as far as possible, and the noise of the crowd outside—haphazard cheering and occasional outbreaks of bagpipe music and drums—was raucous enough that David’s guests had to talk loudly to be heard.
Whilst the duties of hosting required David to overcome his natural reserve to some extent, as soon as he’d welcomed each guest and handed them a drink, he began to feel unsettled. He missed his whisky and gulped at his weak, hoppy ale as he circulated, filling his cup nearly as often as he fetched drinks for his guests.
After an hour or so, he was surprised to hear another knock at the door. He was sure all the guests had arrived and, casting his gaze around the room, verified that, yes, everyone he’d invited was here already. It must be another of Ferguson’s last-minute additions.
David began to sidle his way through the knots of guests crowding his parlour, but it was slow going, and when he caught Elizabeth’s gaze on the other side of the room, he was relieved when she waved and gestured that she would go to answer the door. Nodding gratefully, he continued to inch forward, trying not to press against any of the ladies.
By the time he got into the hallway, the door was open and a new, male guest had stepped into the house. A tall, broad-shouldered man who held Elizabeth’s hand between his own, his fair head bowed as he listened to what she was saying. At the sound of David’s footsteps, the man looked up, revealing an earnestly handsome face with which David was very familiar.