was, in fact, very prudish. Although she had responded to Guy Wentwater’s embraces, she did not realize her ardour was the result of triumph at having caught a beau so young. Also, she liked
to think of herself as being superior to Minerva in every way, and so did not suspect that if Lord Sylvester had treated her to one iota of the passion which he bestowed on Minerva, then she would
immediately have recoiled in horror. It would be as if a very beautiful and much admired statue had suddenly sprung to life and started sweating and panting.
She gave a little cough and the Marquess immediately lowered his book.
‘Why, Miss Annabelle!’ he exclaimed, struggling to his feet and clutching the chair-back for support.
‘Please be seated, my lord,’ said Annabelle. ‘You are not well.’
He sank back down into the chair and gave her a rueful grin. ‘I confess I am as weak as a kitten. What brings you here?’
‘I came to see you, my lord,’ said Annabelle softly. ‘I thought I might read to you.’
‘I have not lost the faculty of sight,’ he said, looking amused. ‘Which is just as well or I could not appreciate the beautiful vision you present.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ Annabelle curtsied demurely.
‘Nonetheless,’ he smiled, ‘it would afford me a great deal of pleasure to hear your voice, and I confess to a feeling of wanting to be spoiled by a pretty girl.’
Annabelle pulled forwards a chair and sat next to him and held out her hand for the book.
‘Letters!’ said Annabelle, who had been hoping for a novel.
‘I find them very interesting,’ said the Marquess. ‘They are written by a Mr Edward Burt who was General Wade’s agent in the last century. He describes the Highlands of
Scotland very well. I have never been as far north as the mountains of Scotland, and I am fascinated by his travels.’
Annabelle resigned herself. ‘Where shall I begin?’ she asked.
‘Just there. Letter XXII. Where it begins, “The common habit”.’
He settled back in his chair and Annabelle began to read.
‘“The common habit of the ordinary Highlanders is far from being acceptable to the eye; with them a small part of the plaid is set in folds and girt round the waist to make of it a
short petticoat that reaches half way down the thigh, and the rest is brought over the shoulders, and then fastened before, below the neck, often with a fork, and sometimes with a bodkin, or
sharpened piece of stick, so that they make pretty near the appearance of the poor women in London when they bring their gowns over their heads to shelter them from the rain.
‘“In this way of wearing the plaid, they have sometimes nothing else to cover them, and are often barefoot; but some I have seen shod with a kind of pumps made out of a raw cowhide
with the hair turned outward, which being ill made, the wearer’s feet looked something like those of a rough footed hen or pigeon; these are called quarrants , and are not only
offensive to the sight, but intolerable to the smell of those who are near them. The stocking rises no higher than the thick of the calf, and from the middle of the thigh to the middle of the leg
is a naked space, which being exposed to all weathers, becomes tanned and freckled; and the joint being mostly infected with the country distemper, the whole is very disagreeable to the eye.
‘“This dress is called the quelt ; and for the most part they wear the petticoat so very short, that in a windy day, going up a hill, or stooping, the indecency of it is
plainly discovered.
‘“A Highland gentleman told me one day merrily, as we were speaking of a dangerous precipice we had passed over together, that a lady of noble family had complained to him very
seriously, that as she was going over the same place with a gilly , who was upon an upper path leading her horse with a long string, she was so terrified with the sight of the abyss, that, to
avoid it, she was forced to look up towards the bare
to think of herself as being superior to Minerva in every way, and so did not suspect that if Lord Sylvester had treated her to one iota of the passion which he bestowed on Minerva, then she would
immediately have recoiled in horror. It would be as if a very beautiful and much admired statue had suddenly sprung to life and started sweating and panting.
She gave a little cough and the Marquess immediately lowered his book.
‘Why, Miss Annabelle!’ he exclaimed, struggling to his feet and clutching the chair-back for support.
‘Please be seated, my lord,’ said Annabelle. ‘You are not well.’
He sank back down into the chair and gave her a rueful grin. ‘I confess I am as weak as a kitten. What brings you here?’
‘I came to see you, my lord,’ said Annabelle softly. ‘I thought I might read to you.’
‘I have not lost the faculty of sight,’ he said, looking amused. ‘Which is just as well or I could not appreciate the beautiful vision you present.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ Annabelle curtsied demurely.
‘Nonetheless,’ he smiled, ‘it would afford me a great deal of pleasure to hear your voice, and I confess to a feeling of wanting to be spoiled by a pretty girl.’
Annabelle pulled forwards a chair and sat next to him and held out her hand for the book.
‘Letters!’ said Annabelle, who had been hoping for a novel.
‘I find them very interesting,’ said the Marquess. ‘They are written by a Mr Edward Burt who was General Wade’s agent in the last century. He describes the Highlands of
Scotland very well. I have never been as far north as the mountains of Scotland, and I am fascinated by his travels.’
Annabelle resigned herself. ‘Where shall I begin?’ she asked.
‘Just there. Letter XXII. Where it begins, “The common habit”.’
He settled back in his chair and Annabelle began to read.
‘“The common habit of the ordinary Highlanders is far from being acceptable to the eye; with them a small part of the plaid is set in folds and girt round the waist to make of it a
short petticoat that reaches half way down the thigh, and the rest is brought over the shoulders, and then fastened before, below the neck, often with a fork, and sometimes with a bodkin, or
sharpened piece of stick, so that they make pretty near the appearance of the poor women in London when they bring their gowns over their heads to shelter them from the rain.
‘“In this way of wearing the plaid, they have sometimes nothing else to cover them, and are often barefoot; but some I have seen shod with a kind of pumps made out of a raw cowhide
with the hair turned outward, which being ill made, the wearer’s feet looked something like those of a rough footed hen or pigeon; these are called quarrants , and are not only
offensive to the sight, but intolerable to the smell of those who are near them. The stocking rises no higher than the thick of the calf, and from the middle of the thigh to the middle of the leg
is a naked space, which being exposed to all weathers, becomes tanned and freckled; and the joint being mostly infected with the country distemper, the whole is very disagreeable to the eye.
‘“This dress is called the quelt ; and for the most part they wear the petticoat so very short, that in a windy day, going up a hill, or stooping, the indecency of it is
plainly discovered.
‘“A Highland gentleman told me one day merrily, as we were speaking of a dangerous precipice we had passed over together, that a lady of noble family had complained to him very
seriously, that as she was going over the same place with a gilly , who was upon an upper path leading her horse with a long string, she was so terrified with the sight of the abyss, that, to
avoid it, she was forced to look up towards the bare
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