One Night With the Laird by Nicola Cornick

It was an entirely female gathering. The Highland Ladies was a clandestine society whose meetings were private and whose interests were a closely guarded secret. Men were not permitted to attend unless giving an expert lecture or providing some sort of entertainment.
    “Mairi, my dear!” Lady Kenton, a distant relative and godmother to Mairi’s sister Lucy, was hurrying toward her, wreathed in smiles. “How charming to see you here,” Her Ladyship said, beaming. “I was not certain whether you would already be at Methven for Ewan’s baptism.”
    “I am on my way there,” Mairi said. “You will be joining us?”
    “Alas, I cannot,” Lady Kenton said. “My niece is to be married next weekend in Edinburgh.” She grasped both Mairi’s hands and stood back to look at her. “I am so glad I saw you, though. You are looking very well, my love, and very thin.”
    “No more than usual,” Mairi said. She was starting to feel irritated. There was an undercurrent of gossip in the room; fans flickered, the ladies smiled at her as she passed, but their eyes were cold. She had thought that she was among friends, but there was something spiteful edging the chatter. She would have hoped for better from the Highland Ladies.
    “You were quite fat at the MacAlmonds’ Ball in April,” Lady Kenton said. “More than one of us remarked upon it.”
    “I am fatter at certain times of the month than at others,” Mairi said dryly. “It is a common affliction for ladies, so I understand.”
    “Of course, of course.” Lady Kenton was looking at her, a little frown between her eyebrows. She took Mairi’s arm and drew her across to where a couple of chairs were placed in an alcove beneath a laden lemon tree. The faint sweet smell of citrus scented the air.
    “Now we can have a private coze,” Lady Kenton said, settling herself amid a jangle of clashing bracelets and a sparkle of emeralds. She leaned forward, fixing Mairi with her wide blue eyes. “I cannot tell you how delighted I was at your sister’s marriage. As Lucy’s godmother, I consider it my greatest achievement.”
    Mairi narrowed her eyes. She knew Lady Kenton well enough to know that this apparent change of subject was no such thing. Lady Kenton had a bee in her bonnet and would return to it soon enough.
    “I had not realized that you played so great a part in bringing Lucy and Robert together, ma’am,” she said. As far as she recalled, Lady Kenton had been anxious for Lucy to marry their cousin Wilfred Cardross, and that, Mairi thought, would have been a match made in hell rather than heaven.
    But Lady Kenton had conveniently rewritten history, at least in her own mind. She waved a hand to dismiss Mairi’s comment.
    “Oh, as soon as I saw Lucy and Robert together, I knew they were meant for each other,” she said. Her eyes were misty. “And look how well the matter has turned out. Two children already and wed less than three years. Your dear mother would have been so proud.” Her gaze sharpened and fixed on Mairi’s face. “But what about you, my love? I wish you could find the same happiness. I hear rumors, unsavory ones, I fear.” Lady Kenton fidgeted with her glass. “There is no getting away from the matter, Mairi, my love. You are considered at best to be a fast widow and at worst...” Lady Kenton paused, dabbing at her lips with her handkerchief. “Well, people are saying...” She broke off, clearly uncomfortable.
    “Please be frank, ma’am,” Mairi said. She felt another chill ripple of anxiety. Her night with Jack had been private, and for it to be picked over by the gossips felt intolerable. She wanted to believe this was only because it had been a terrible mistake. Yet the hollow feeling beneath her breastbone did not only stem from dread of what the gossips were saying. It felt disturbingly as though they were trying to cheapen something that had been important to her.
    Madness. That was complete madness. There had been nothing