Amanda Scott by Highland Spirits Page B

some cousins of Papa’s.”
    “They are my cousins, too, dear,” Lady Marsali said, sitting up at last and without visible effort. A comfortably padded little woman, she wore a simple pale pink, sack-backed afternoon gown and matching pink slippers. A lacy cap perched atop her hair, which was arranged in fashionable twists and curls from which wisps had escaped during her nap. “It was I who suggested that you spend a night there, when Michael wrote that you would pass through Lochearnhead. As to my opinion of travel, I find it quite wearing. Nothing but ruts and bumps and dust, and more dust. I don’t know why I do it.”
    “But don’t you want to go to London, ma’am?” Bridget’s voice began to rise. “You won’t change your mind, will you? That would be dreadful!”
    “Don’t fret, child,” Lady Marsali said. “I may not like to travel, but I shall like being in London very much. My cousin informs me that her house is tolerable, and I daresay we shall all enjoy ourselves enormously once we have arrived.”
    “I do wish there were not such need for hurry,” Bridget said. “I would have liked to have at least one or two gowns made up before we leave Edinburgh.”
    Lady Marsali smiled. “My woman has taken care of that, child. We find it quite easy here in Edinburgh to receive the latest patterns from London and Paris, you know, and Louise is a skilled seamstress. You will recall that you sent me your measurements some time ago, and she used them to make several gowns for you. You need only allow her to fit them properly, and the thing is done.” She glanced at Michael. “I cannot think your mission will prosper, however, my dear.”
    “We can but try, ma’am,” he said.
    “Aye, well, that’s so, and even if things do not go as you hope, perhaps you will manage to win through in some other way.”
    “Perhaps,” he agreed, “but we can afford to stay no longer than a month.”
    “We’ll see about that,” she said. “I don’t fancy getting there only to have to turn round again and come home. Most unsettling that would be. I should prefer to stay at least until the middle of June. How long will this journey take us, by the bye? I have heard of mail coaches traveling the distance in only four days, but I cannot think that sounds at all comfortable for ordinary mortals.”
    “No, ma’am, for I am persuaded that they must drive through the night, which I know you would not like at all. The distance is nearly four hundred miles, but I think we can do it in a week without too much discomfort.”
    “Well, that remains to be seen, does it not? I asked Andrew to begin saving the newspapers for you the moment I learned you were coming to town. He will have put them in your bedchamber.”
    Accepting this less than subtle hint, he said, “Thank you, ma’am. If you will excuse us now, we’ll change for dinner. I presume they will be serving it shortly.”
    “Lud, yes,” her ladyship said with more energy than she had yet shown. “I am told that the dinner hour these days in London can be as late as five o’clock, so I have been trying to adjust myself, but it is not a pleasant business. Perhaps my cousin will not insist that we dine so late as that.”
    “I don’t care how late we dine, ma’am,” Bridget said. “Now that I know I shall be well dressed, I quite look forward to London.”

CHAPTER SIX
    P INKIE PASSED HER FIRST week in London in such a whirl of activity that she never seemed to know if she was on her head or on her heels. The city was unlike anything she had experienced before—overwhelming, exhausting, and fascinating. Mary and Lady Agnes seemed determined to turn her out in grand style, and she spent hours with silk mercers, mantua makers, milliners, shoemakers, and even a dancing master. She did not mind the latter, however, since the time she spent with him she also spent with Chuff. He, too, was busy acquiring new clothes, new friends, and new amusements.
    Both of them