"Wake up, ma chere," I heard Fergus say urgently. I forced my eyes to open.
Fergus helped me up and we walked over to Malcolm and the woman I had seen
earlier. She was wearing a dress now, under a cloak similar to mine. She
had the curliest hair I'd ever seen, a light brown color. Her skin was
extremely white, but not pasty. She was about two inches shorter than me,
but that wasn't that short, considering I was five foot eight. But it
wasn't her height, nor her hair, that was remarkable. It was her eyes. They
were gold, the color of whiskey, or like the eyes of a lioness. Malcolm's
eyes scanned behind him to make sure we were coming, then he headed up the
stairs.
Fergus led me to the room I had slept in before. "Milord would be obliged if you'd stay here until further arrangements are made," he told me. I raised an eyebrow.
"Tell him I will oblige him," I said sourly, putting sarcastic emphasis on 'oblige', "This cell is better than a gutter." I flopped down on the mattress dramatically. Fergus chuckled and turned to leave.
"Wait!" I said impulsively. My stomach growled. "Where can I get some food?" Fergus looked worried.
"Milord is going to have dinner with.an old friend," he said slowly. "I'm sure they would be happy to have you join them." I thought of Malcolm and that woman. That woman, who was most likely a prostitute. He was taking her out to dinner. Ew. I didn't want a part of it. I shook my head.
"I'd rather not be sociable tonight, Fergus," I replied.
"I'll have something sent up, then, ma chere," he said, and left. I sighed and lay down on the bed. This was more than frustrating. Locked up in a brothel in 1768 while my captor was frolicking with whores and stuffing his face and making me wait. It was torture and, needless to say, I was feeling very bitter toward Alexander Malcolm.
A maid brought me a tray of food a few minutes later, set with what I hoped was clam chowder, biscuits, and a slice of cherry pie. I thanked the girl and set to my meal. It was good, but I wasn't paying much attention. I set the tray on a corner table in the room, undressed down to my shift, and fell asleep again, wanting to get away from everything.
I spent the next morning lazing in my room, not only because I was confined there, but also because when I had woken, Mary's dress was gone. I was brought breakfast and lunch, but remained in bed until Mary herself came in with my new dress. She smiled at my reluctance to get out of bed.
"Dinna be shy, miss," she giggled. I grinned. She went on to point out the aspects of the dress. "If ye were no sae stubborn aboot the corset it'd have been ready earlier," she said scoldingly. "But Master.Malcolm's," she gave me a sidelong glance, "wife," at this I jerked. WIFE? I thought, bewildered. He's married to a whore? Mary continued. ".advised that we take the stays from an old corset and put them in the dress, which did work quite well." She held out the dress. It looked almost identical to Mary's old dress, but a pretty dark blue cloth. She helped me into it, and buttoned up the back. I was dismayed to see that the neckline was lower than I had hoped for. I pulled it up self-consciously, but thanked Mary. She beamed and waved her hand nonchalantly.
"I brought the tray again, if ye'd like to refresh yerself," she made a sweeping gesture toward the make-up tray I had used before. I thanked her again, and she left. I went through the same process as before, being interrupted by Fergus toward the end. He grinned.
"You look lovely ma chere," he persisted. "Now can we leave? We are to meet Milord and Milady for supper." I sighed and stood up. Fergus handed me a cloak and I followed him outside the brothel. I was grateful that there weren't a lot of passerby; even though I didn't know anyone, I didn't want that sort of reputation.
"Where are we going?" I asked Fergus.
"Milord's printshop," he replied. "That is where we are meeting." We walked in silence for a while, until I felt that something was wrong. Something didn't feel right. I turned to mention this odd feeling to Fergus, but he had stopped walking. He was looking at the sky. I stood next to him and tried to see what was so interesting, and my stomach jerked. The sky would have looked only as though the sunset was brilliant today, if it wasn't for the smoke. Black smoke. There was a fire somewhere in Edinburgh, somewhere very nearby.
Fergus led me to the room I had slept in before. "Milord would be obliged if you'd stay here until further arrangements are made," he told me. I raised an eyebrow.
"Tell him I will oblige him," I said sourly, putting sarcastic emphasis on 'oblige', "This cell is better than a gutter." I flopped down on the mattress dramatically. Fergus chuckled and turned to leave.
"Wait!" I said impulsively. My stomach growled. "Where can I get some food?" Fergus looked worried.
"Milord is going to have dinner with.an old friend," he said slowly. "I'm sure they would be happy to have you join them." I thought of Malcolm and that woman. That woman, who was most likely a prostitute. He was taking her out to dinner. Ew. I didn't want a part of it. I shook my head.
"I'd rather not be sociable tonight, Fergus," I replied.
"I'll have something sent up, then, ma chere," he said, and left. I sighed and lay down on the bed. This was more than frustrating. Locked up in a brothel in 1768 while my captor was frolicking with whores and stuffing his face and making me wait. It was torture and, needless to say, I was feeling very bitter toward Alexander Malcolm.
A maid brought me a tray of food a few minutes later, set with what I hoped was clam chowder, biscuits, and a slice of cherry pie. I thanked the girl and set to my meal. It was good, but I wasn't paying much attention. I set the tray on a corner table in the room, undressed down to my shift, and fell asleep again, wanting to get away from everything.
I spent the next morning lazing in my room, not only because I was confined there, but also because when I had woken, Mary's dress was gone. I was brought breakfast and lunch, but remained in bed until Mary herself came in with my new dress. She smiled at my reluctance to get out of bed.
"Dinna be shy, miss," she giggled. I grinned. She went on to point out the aspects of the dress. "If ye were no sae stubborn aboot the corset it'd have been ready earlier," she said scoldingly. "But Master.Malcolm's," she gave me a sidelong glance, "wife," at this I jerked. WIFE? I thought, bewildered. He's married to a whore? Mary continued. ".advised that we take the stays from an old corset and put them in the dress, which did work quite well." She held out the dress. It looked almost identical to Mary's old dress, but a pretty dark blue cloth. She helped me into it, and buttoned up the back. I was dismayed to see that the neckline was lower than I had hoped for. I pulled it up self-consciously, but thanked Mary. She beamed and waved her hand nonchalantly.
"I brought the tray again, if ye'd like to refresh yerself," she made a sweeping gesture toward the make-up tray I had used before. I thanked her again, and she left. I went through the same process as before, being interrupted by Fergus toward the end. He grinned.
"You look lovely ma chere," he persisted. "Now can we leave? We are to meet Milord and Milady for supper." I sighed and stood up. Fergus handed me a cloak and I followed him outside the brothel. I was grateful that there weren't a lot of passerby; even though I didn't know anyone, I didn't want that sort of reputation.
"Where are we going?" I asked Fergus.
"Milord's printshop," he replied. "That is where we are meeting." We walked in silence for a while, until I felt that something was wrong. Something didn't feel right. I turned to mention this odd feeling to Fergus, but he had stopped walking. He was looking at the sky. I stood next to him and tried to see what was so interesting, and my stomach jerked. The sky would have looked only as though the sunset was brilliant today, if it wasn't for the smoke. Black smoke. There was a fire somewhere in Edinburgh, somewhere very nearby.
