Page 61 of Taming the Heiress
"I... Mrs. Berry and I had a lovely holiday," she said. "Nothing more. Why do you ask?"
"Mr. Hamilton and I wondered if something occurred of a more profound nature, madam," Angela said. "Ever since your return, you seem... changed."
"Profound?" Meg stared at them. She did not know what to say. Tempted to confide in them, she knew that she must keep her secrets to herself, to protect Dougal and Iain. Soon she would have to answer Sir Frederick, and it hung over her like a sword.
"You sigh overmuch, and look wistfully into the distance," Angela said. "You do not apply your attention to the matter at hand, to either your correspondence or your conversations. All of us are somewhat bewildered, madam, about what ails you. My guess is that there is no illness, but rather a preoccupation of thought and heart."
"Nothing troubles me, if that is what you think," Meg said.
"I think something troubles you very much, dear," Guy murmured. "Something consumes your every thought."
"We decided to mention this only in order to offer our help." Angela glanced at Guy. "As your very dear friends."
They were too perceptive, Meg thought, looking away. Through the window, blue hills spread into the misty distance. Far beyond, where she could not see but could still feel its presence, lay the sea and the island where her heart existed with Iain and the rest. A mile past that was the sea rock. She could almost feel the wind and the salt spray. She wondered if Dougal was still in the Hebrides, and she wondered, too, if he thought of her.
"I am just preoccupied by the plans for the party," she answered then. "I will feel relieved when the evening is finally over."
"Mrs. Berry," Angela said gently, "says it is not that. It is her impression that you are in love."
Meg ducked her head and took up her pencil again. "Mrs. Berry is a romantic and likes it overly much when people fall in love." She glanced pointedly at them, but their attention was fastened unwaveringly on her.
"Berry adores this Mr. Stewart and thinks he is not the least bit an ogre, but a brave and kind man who seemed quite taken with you," Angela said.
"Taken? Really?" Guy said, folding his arms. "The odious Mr. Stewart? Was he what you expected, madam?"
"Not at all," Meg said, her cheeks heating fiercely.
"Berry also mentioned that Sir Frederick Matheson came to Caransay," Guy said. "That must have been a surprise."
"There is no need to nudge me, either of you," Meg said bluntly. "I have nothing to tell you."
Guy shrugged and looked at Angela. "Well, I hope it was a pleasant enough meeting with Sir Frederick," he told Meg.
"He is always pleasant in manner," she said carefully. "And it was quite a surprise."A shock,she corrected silently.
"If ever he is not, I want to hear about it. I do not trust the man," Guy said. "Mr. Stewart seems infinitely more trustworthy, in my opinion. Just keep cautious, dear Baroness, and remember that your friends are here to help you, should you ever need it."
Tears stinging, Meg ducked her head to apply her attention to her drawing, though the page blurred before her. "Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I shall keep it in mind."
Chapter 16
"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Logan." Seated in a wooden chair beside a wide, polished mahogany desk, Dougal reached into his pocket and pulled out a small linen-wrapped package. He laid it on the desk surface.
Samuel Logan, a heavyset gentleman with gray side-whiskers, a leonine head of dark hair, and a preference for tobacco, for his clothing reeked of it, nodded. "I always have time for a kinsman of Sir Hugh MacBride. Chambers Street Publishers was honored to produce the great poet's work." He gestured toward the bookcases that lined his walls, where Dougal noticed that his uncle's volumes of poetry and other writings were prominently displayed. "And we have published something of yours, as well."
Dougal laughed softly. "Nothing quite as memorable. A series of my articles about lighthouse design appeared in theEdinburgh Reviewa few years ago, and your firm published them in book form.Principles of Pharological Design with Respect to the Forces of Natureis hardly exciting reading."
"On the contrary, it must be fascinatin' stuff," Logan said. "We have respectable orders every autumn forPharological Designfrom engineering classes at several universities in Scotland and England both. That must give you a wee income, eh?" He smiled, folded his hands. "What brings you here, sir? Have you another treatise on lighthouses for us to consider?"
"Actually, I did bring something, though I am not the author," Dougal said, sliding the package forward. "I hoped you might find it interesting. A dear friend who lives on a Hebridean isle wrote this little journal. Although I do not have your talent for judging the best in books, I think it worth a moment of your time."
Logan reached over an untidy pile of papers and a scattering of leather-bound books and picked up Meg's journal. Setting a pair of gold-wire glasses on his nose, he flipped through the book for a minute or so, nodding to himself thoughtfully as he turned the pages.
After a while, he looked up. "Did the author appoint you to be messenger, sir? Or is it authoress? I detect a distinctly feminine sensibility to this anonymous journal." He peered over his spectacles.
"It was my idea to bring it here. Miss MacNeill gave me her journal as a gift, but I believe she would not mind my showing it to you. In her modesty, she does not think her work worthy of publication. As you can see, it is not a personal diary, but rather a chronicle of nature on the Isle of Caransay."
"Aye. Fascinatin'." Logan slowly turned pages, murmuring. "Remarkable. Your friend is quite talented, sir." He continued to read, nodding. "Her drawings are skillful and pleasing, and very precise. Yet her descriptions are poetic. Exquisite thing, this wee book. It's as if we're peeking into a lady's diary while she shares her love for her home." He turned a few more pages. "She brings the island to life, and she seems very much a part of it... yet she remains mysterious throughout, giving no clue to her identity. Marvelous, actually. Unique."
