Page 8 of Victorian Bride

They all turned to look at her.

“Of course, dear.” Lottie smiled kindly.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I shall drop by one morning soon, then,” he said. “It seems you are doing fine. If anything arises, just sent for me. And make certain that there are no complications. No overdoing it.” He turned to look at Mya. “You are a very lucky young lady. Such a wound could have easily done more damage than it did.”

“I'm glad the damage wasn't much, then,” Mya said, thankful the questions were over. “And I appreciate your help with it.”

“As I said, it is no trouble at all. It’s my job, after all, to look after the people of this town.” He gathered up his bag, and tipped his hat to all of them. “Good day, ladies.”

“Good day,” they echoed.

“Well,” Lottie said when he had gone, “that went quite well.” She grinned at Mya. “Now that you know you won’t drop dead if we let you leave the grounds, would you like to take a day trip with us tomorrow? We are headed to Inverness to do some shopping, and would rather not leave you here alone unless you have a preference for it.”

“And if we are to get you some clothes that are not hand-me-downs,” Eleanora added, “you will need to be fitted for them.”

“That as well. So, what do you say?”

“If you do not mind taking me along,” Mya answered. She hated that she had to have them pay for clothes for her. She would find a way to repay them. “I would love to visit the town with you.”

Lottie clapped her hands together. “Excellent. We shall make a day of it, then. Shopping, lunch, and perhaps a walk down by the river before we return home in the evening, if you are not too tired.”

Mya smiled. “Just you try and keep up.”

***

The coach ride to Inverness from the estate was not a terribly long one, though the roads left a little to be desired. Mya, in a dress of Lottie's and a hat borrowed from Eleanora, leaned back against the seat as well as she could with the hat in the way and tried to ignore the jostling, despite the twinges of pain every bump sent through her shoulder.

When they arrived at the market, the coachman let them off, and Lottie stepped up to Mya's side, slipping an arm through hers as she had for the walk in the garden.

“Let’s start here,” she said, “and then later visit other parts of the city. The coachman will circle back around so that we can send our purchases with him periodically. Better that than lugging them all over Inverness.”

“Just how many things do you intend on purchasing?” Eleanora asked from Lottie's other side, both eyebrows lifted.

Lottie shrugged. “Whatever catches my eye. The dry goods and such are already taken care of, but one never knows what exciting things one might find.”

Shopping with Lottie, Mya discovered as they made their leisurely way through the covered market, was exactly what she might have expected. While the other woman had started out at her side, offering the support of an arm or a shoulder, she was quickly distracted, darting off to examine one thing or another almost constantly. Eleanora stepped in to take her place, a fond smile on her face even as she shook her head at Lottie's antics.

“Is she always like that?” Mya asked as they paused at yet another stall, Lottie talking animatedly to the shopkeeper as she turned a statuette over in her hands.

“Or worse,” Eleanora said. “I think half of it is for show.”

Mya turned away to hide a smile. It seemed she had been right the day before, when she teased Lottie about Eleanora's indulging her. She was fooling precisely no one.

“Though she is genuinely quite excitable, for lack of a better word,” the blonde woman added as she and Mya followed Lottie to the next stall. “She takes a great deal more joy in life than most. It is a quality of hers that I rather wish I was better at emulating, however unfashionable it may be.”

“That is—” Mya began, just as someone’s shoulder knocked roughly against her own, making her stumble against Eleanora. “Excuse me!” she cried sharply, grabbing her injured arm.

The man who had nearly run her over stopped, turning slowly to look at her.

Mya’s heart skipped a beat. He was gorgeous. His dark eyes swept over her, and Mya felt a sweet little shudder run down her spine.

“Your apology is accepted,” he said.

It took Mya a moment to process the words. Her thoughts were caught on the way his voice sounded, deep and just a little rough, the kind of voice that would make any woman a little weak in the knees. At least, that was, until she caught up with what he had actually said.

“My apology?” Her eyebrows arched upward. “You’re the one who ran into me.”

“Mya,” Eleanora whispered, voice so quiet that Mya doubted the man in front of them had even heard the quiet warning in the word.