In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams Read Free

of parlors, sitting rooms, music rooms, a dozen rooms set aside for the staff, a formal dining room, a breakfast room, and a family dining room.
    “How do you decide where to eat?” she asked Mary once.
    Lennox’s sister smiled at the question. “Mostly in the family dining room,” she said. “We use the formal dining room when we have guests.”
    Since Cameron and Company transacted business all over the world and Hillshead hosted many foreign visitors, she knew they must use the formal dining room often.
    Tonight the crowd was much too large to be accommodated in any place other than the ballroom. The whole of Glasgow, it seemed, had been invited to honor William Cameron for receiving the Imperial Order of St. Stanislaus. The elder Cameron had been rewarded for his efforts in expanding Russia’s shipbuilding industry.
    The impressive gilded medal with its cerulean and scarlet ribbon hung in a display case in the foyer. Russian dignitaries tended to be dramatic people and their awards no less so.
    The Camerons had changed the decor since she’d been here last, opting for cerulean draperies against paler blue walls. The alcove where she’d once waited for Lennox was no longer curtained. Instead, two settees upholstered in scarlet had been placed there with potted ferns on either side.
    The colors reminded her of the ribbon on the medal.
    Had Lennox opted for a Russian theme for his home?
    Why hadn’t he opted for a Russian wife? Why hadn’t he married Lidia Bobrova?
    He hadn’t married anyone. A successful and handsome man would be the catch of Glasgow. Why was he still unmarried?
    Richard’s voice echoed in her memory. “Curiosity is an unwelcome character trait, Glynis.”
    A shriek warned her seconds before she was enveloped in a brown silk hug. Her breath left in a gasp as arms tightened around her.
    “Glynis! Glynis! Glynis! Oh, my dear Glynis, here you are! I’ve missed you ever so much!”
    “Charlotte?”
    She took a cautious step back until her childhood friend reluctantly released her.
    “You’re just the same,” Charlotte said, her broad smile as bright as the chandelier overhead. “I’ve gained six stone and you’ve not changed at all.”
    She’d changed in hidden ways. Once, she wouldn’t have paid any attention to Charlotte’s effusiveness. Now her old friend’s praise and welcome, as well as the sidelong looks from others, embarrassed her.
    “You’re just the same as well,” she said, skilled at lying. She’d had countless opportunities to practice the art of prevarication in Washington.
    I’ve heard nothing about the course of the war, ma’am. I’m certain you’re correct and the unpleasantries will end soon.
    Yes, sir, your wife is a charming, pleasant woman. I enjoy being in her company and anticipate meeting her at future events.
    No, husband, I won’t complain. I’m among the most fortunate of women.
    “Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “I’ve four children and I’ve gained three stone with each of the last two.” Her laugh bounced around the room until people turned to stare.
    Must she call attention to them? Warmth traveled up from her feet to lodge at the back of her neck.
    “You’ll come to dinner,” Charlotte said. “To meet all the MacNamaras.”
    “Yes, of course,” she answered, trying to recall a man by the name of MacNamara.
    Charlotte studied her mauve dress, her plump face crinkling into a mask of sympathy.
    “Did you love him very much? You’re too young to be a widow, Glynis. I’m so sorry. Did he die in the American war?”
    “No, a carriage accident.”
    If Charlotte hadn’t outgrown her love of gossip, any news she shared would soon spread like a winter breeze through Glasgow. All Glynis had to do was ensure her fellow Glaswegians knew nothing more about Richard.
    Charlotte once again swathed her in a brown silk hug.
    “God never gives you something you can’t handle.”
    How many times had someone told her that in the last nineteen months?