What Happens in Scotland by Jennifer McQuiston

know what I was doing.”
    Georgette’s mind whirled like dandelion fluff in the wind. Only the bits in her mind were more like shards of glass. And the wind was more like fierce summer storm, hammering her senses mercilessly.
    What this young man was implying was sordid. Impossibly vile. Had she really corrupted this fresh-faced youth last night, in the notorious alley behind the Blue Gander, no less? Shame and a desperate sense of denial kicked at her, as violent as the objection that formed mutely on her lips. She couldn’t remember .
    But that did not lessen the magnitude of what she appeared to have done.
    Surely she was mistaken. But what if she wasn’t? Her acute embarrassment over the forgotten parts of her night, and her fear of the details she might still learn, made Georgette lock up tight the questions that wanted to tumble out of her. Her breathing didn’t just slow down then, her lungs pinched shut.
    “Oh my God,” she moaned, eyeing the young man and the dog. What was she going to do? Apologize to young Mr. Rothven? Apologize to his parents ? And the dog . . . the dog she had no idea about. It probably wasn’t mean. After all, the boy still had all his limbs intact, and he didn’t seem afraid of the animal in the slightest. But she couldn’t let the creature run loose with that uncertainty. No, she would have to lock it in the room Randolph used for his study.
    Elsie’s affronted voice broke through the train of Georgette’s thoughts. “If you were looking for lessons, Joseph,” she admonished the lad, “why didn’t you come to me last night?”
    “I . . .” His gaze darted between the two women. “I mean . . . Lady Thorold seemed like she would know about these things. She’s a London widow, you know.” He leaned in closer, his eyes going wide. “She’s worldly .”
    Elsie rolled her eyes. “Aye, the whole town knows. It’s not like she kept it much of a great bloody secret, cavorting about Moraig as she did.”
    Joseph shuffled his feet. “Well, she offered to help me. Saw me trying to figure things out all by myself in the alley outside the Gander.”
    Beads of sweat had formed on his brow during the halted explanation, and Georgette watched in sick fascination as Elsie reached out a hand and brushed the drops away. “Why, if it’s an experienced partner you were looking for, Joseph, next time come to me.” Elsie cast a shrewd glance back at her mistress. “I know my way around the Gander’s alley better than any uptight London lady.”
    He swallowed hard. “I appreciate that, Miss Elsie. Now that I’ve tried it with Lady Thorold, I ken I’ll want to try it with other women too.” His eyes widened hopefully. “Maybe we could have a go later tonight?”
    Elsie giggled, an amused, inappropriate sound. She offered him a saucy wink. “Well, sure then.”
    Georgette concentrated on breathing through her nose, unable to believe the audacity of her new maid to not only proposition a near-innocent young man, but to disparage her mistress’s capabilities in the process. “How do you propose to see him later tonight if we are stuck here with no means of conveyance?” she asked, her voice cracking under the strain of the morning’s surprises.
    Elsie rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t so prone to hysterics, you’d have already seen your answer.” The maid’s chin gestured toward the open door. “Today’s your lucky day.”
    Georgette looked out, past the flushed-faced Mr. Rothven, past the dog that had finally stopped lunging against the rope but was still eyeing the kitten with a feral gleam in its eye. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the day was the sort a cloud would never think of ruining. She normally lived for days like this, loved the lazy promise in them.
    But right now she could think of nothing beyond the immediate question of how to deal with the newest shock of the morning. “How?” she choked out. “How, precisely, is this my lucky