Page 27 of To Love a Scottish Lord (Highland Lords #4)

Charles gave him the directions grudgingly, and Brendan left the goldsmith’s shop, feeling relief that his errand was nearly complete and irritation that Hamish had forced him into it in the first place.

Matthew Marshall had a voice that seemed to carry from the hilltop to the crowd arranged around at the bottom, yet he didn’t appear to be shouting.

For the most part, he exhorted those who’d come to hear him speak to live a more healthful, fulfilling life.

He then began answering questions, the first leading to a very long commentary about his travels.

Elspeth Grant listened with half an ear, wishing that Mary were there. If nothing else, her friend could take away some of the boredom of this task. Shame filled her instantly at the idea of mentally criticizing Mr. Marshall. He was an exceptionally fine gentleman, and a man of the cloth.

But he did love to talk.

She and her brother, Jack, had been given the task of escorting Mr. Marshall to their home, where her parents would officially greet him as members of his extended congregation.

Her father’s gout precluded him from walking very far, and her mother had remained behind to see to last minute preparations.

She focused on Mr. Marshall’s comments and realized he was still answering the first question posed to him.

“I find that I have the same strength now as I did thirty-five years ago. My sight is better now and my nerves firmer than they were in my youth. I am grateful to report that I have none of the infirmities of old age and have lost several that I had as a young man. I can only attribute my good health to my constant journeys, because I have not traveled less than five thousand miles a year for the last twenty years.”

Mr. Marshall had a thick head of white hair that flowed nearly to his collar. His face, heavily lined and deeply tanned, was genial. His complexion was clear and smooth, his eyes bright and piercing.

If Mary were there, she’d hang on the man’s every word. But Mary wasn’t in Inverness, which was surprising in itself.

A few days ago, Elspeth had visited the goldsmith shop only to discover that her friend had left Inverness the afternoon before.

“But where has she gone?” she asked Charles.

“To treat the brother of an influential customer,” Charles said, looking none too pleased with Mary’s decision.

“It’s not like her to leave Inverness.”

“She’ll not do so again, I can guarantee you that.”

Elspeth hadn’t said a word, but she hadn’t liked the look in his eyes. Since Gordon’s death, Charles had changed, becoming more vocal in his disapproval of Mary’s actions.

“If you hear from her,” she said, turning toward the door, “let her know that I asked about her.” She slipped from the shop before allowing her discomfiture to show.

She forced herself to pay attention, listening as Mr. Marshall spoke of his clinics in London. She’d try to remember the details for Mary’s sake, as well as all the information he’d passed on about his healing treatments.

It was with Mary that Elspeth experienced her greatest freedom.

Because of her reputation, Mary was considered a proper companion.

Her parents didn’t know that there were times when Mary’s laughter rang out so loud that the sound of it echoed back in the narrow Inverness streets.

Or that people sometimes stopped what they were doing to determine the source of the merriment.

She doubted that anyone would suspect the secret thoughts that Mary had confessed upon occasion, walking back from church or shopping. There were times when Mary surprised her, so much that Elspeth would stop in the middle of the street and stare at her friend, her mouth agape.

“You don’t need to see the world to know human nature,” Elspeth had argued one day when Mary had confessed she wanted to travel. “You know all that you need to now. I think that people are the same the whole world round, don’t you?”

“Do you never want to see different places, or meet different people?” Mary had asked.

Elspeth shook her head vehemently. “Why should I? Everything I need to know of the world is right here in Inverness. If I want laces or linens or wools, I can find them here. As well as porcelain and silver and all manner of goods from London or even the continent. Or from the British East India Company. Even the Orient,” she’d said, thinking of the beautiful blue and silver bowl that her mother had set aside for her.

When she wed, her life would be narrowed even further, but it was not a constraint against which she fought. True, there were times when being chaperoned by her mother and older sisters was burdensome, but she didn’t want the greater freedom that Mary seemed to desire.

An unusual silence made her glance up to find Mr. Marshall surrounded by well-wishers. The speech was evidently finished.

Looking around for Jack, she spied him talking to a young boy his age.

She nodded at him and he frowned back, but she was as familiar with his recalcitrance as she was her parents’ doting on him.

As the only boy in a family of seven daughters, he was lamentably spoiled.

But he could be charming when he wished, flashing that grin at the object of his cajolery.

Elspeth had often been the recipient of it, and found herself like as not acceding to Jack’s wishes.

“Straighten your jacket,” she whispered when he joined her. He frowned again but obeyed.

It wasn’t the first time her parents had played host to a visiting dignitary. Their house, built for a large family, seemed cavernous now that six of her sisters were married and living in homes of their own.

“How long is he going to stay there talking?” Jack asked, watching as Mr. Marshall slowly made his way through the crowd.

“He doesn’t come often to Inverness,” she said. “As long as it takes, I imagine.”

“I’ve other things I’d rather do,” he said mutinously. Elspeth didn’t bother correcting him. She would much rather be doing other things as well.

The crowd gradually thinned, enough that they could get closer to Mr. Marshall. Jack manfully stepped forward and introduced himself. “This is my sister, sir,” he said, glancing at Elspeth. “We’ve come to escort you to our home. That is, if you’re ready.”

Mr. Marshall smiled kindly at both of them. “If you don’t mind, I’ll inform a few acquaintances that I’m ready to take my leave, and then accompany you.”

“He’s a talker, isn’t he, Elspeth?” Jack said, as they watched the older man move through the crowd.

“I suppose he has to be,” she replied. “After all, he’s a well-known speaker on two continents.”

“Do you think he’s a speaker because he has to be or because he’s a talker?” Jack asked.

She ruffled his hair, which she knew irritated him. He was acting very grown up, and she was proud of him while at the same time wishing that he wouldn’t hurry so to be an adult. It seemed to Elspeth that everything was racing past her, including her own youth.

Finally, Mr. Marshall was ready, and making his way back to them.

“Our parents are sorry that they couldn’t be here,” Elspeth told him. “My father suffers from gout, and it worsens from time to time.”

“My arrival is not inopportune, I trust,” he said, his eyes appearing concerned. “There are other families with whom I can stay.”

“Not at all,” Jack said. “They’ve spoken of nothing but your arrival, sir. The only thing is that my father cannot walk very far, but then he’s not one for regular exercise.”

“I’ve found it to be a good treatment for gout,” Mr. Marshall said. “That, and a bland diet, with no ale or pork.”

Elspeth smiled. “You sound like my friend Mary,” she said. “She’s a great devotee of your work, sir.”

“Would you be speaking of Mrs. Gilly?” he asked. “I’ve been anticipating meeting with her.”

“She’s away from Inverness at present,” Elspeth said, “but I anticipate her return momentarily.”

They left the meadow, the crowd of people attending Mr. Marshall’s sermon gradually fading away.

Elspeth hoped sincerely that he wouldn’t ask her what she thought of his words.

Surprisingly, her parents were entertaining in the parlor, her father’s boisterous laughter greeting them as they walked in the front door.

At their entrance, her mother smiled and stood, coming forward to greet Mr. Marshall with both hands out stretched. “I’m so very pleased to meet you, Mr. Marshall,” she said, “and so glad that you’re to be our guest.” She turned, standing at his side.

“My husband, Horace,” she said. Elspeth’s father nodded cordially.

“Forgive me for not standing, sir,” he said, “but I’ve been confined to my footstool for a few days.”

“Not at all,” Mr. Marshall said, eyeing the bandaged foot with some interest. “I trust you are abstaining from those foodstuffs that would only aggravate your condition?”

“Mary Gilly has insisted upon it,” Horace said. “She’s a great believer in your books.”

“I am indeed sorry to hear that she’s gone from Inverness,” Marshall said.

“Nor is she apt to return any time soon,” Mrs. Grant said, indicating the other man in the room.

Jack peered around Elspeth, and she didn’t chastise him. For once, she had the same curiosity.

A stranger sat there. He was certainly the most handsome man she’d ever seen, dressed in his buff trousers and deep blue jacket. He was smiling, at least until he glanced at her. Abruptly, his smile faded, and the look in his hazel eyes grew more intense.

She’d never been the object of a man’s undivided attention before, and she found it disconcerting.

He stood, bowing slightly to her, and it seemed to Elspeth that the conversation faded off into silence as they stared at each other.

The oddest thought occurred to her then.

Perhaps God was indeed favoring her for having attended Mr. Marshall’s sermon.

In payment for her patience, He’d brought this smiling young man to her house.

A man who’d evidently earned the approbation of her father.