In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams by Karen Ranney Page B

leaf was out of place.
    How many times had she raced down that path, through Hillshead, and out to the gardens? The housewas rife with memories of boisterous voices, laughter, and a childhood dusted with joy.
    She turned away, refusing to allow the past to draw her closer.

Chapter 7
     
    L ucy Whittaker was an attractive woman with an oval face and dark brown eyes. Her blond hair was tucked up in her bonnet, the green bow tied at a jaunty angle beneath her chin.
    The woman began their relationship by insulting Eleanor.
    “I can barely understand you,” she said after both women settled into the carriage, skirts had been arranged and proper introductions made. “You people in Glasgow speak worse than most Scots.”
    Since she’d worked diligently to eradicate all trace of Glasgow from her voice, Glynis had to admit a Glaswegian accent was occasionally indecipherable.
    But Lucy wasn’t done with her complaints.
    “Scotland is colder than I’m used to and the city smells of fish.”
    “We’re on the Clyde,” Eleanor said, her mouth curving in a thin smile. “You’ll soon become familiar with the odor. Are you staying long in Glasgow?”
    “I don’t know,” Lucy said. “Gavin says not too much longer, but it all depends on Mr. Cameron.”
    “Do you have any questions about America, Mrs. Whittaker? I’m certain my daughter can alleviate any anxieties you might be feeling about traveling to a new country.”
    “I doubt I’ll be there anytime soon,” Lucy said,to Glynis’s surprise. “I’m to be put ashore at Nassau while Gavin goes off to war. He says it’s not safe for me to be aboard ship when they’re running the blockade.”
    Did Lennox know how easily Lucy divulged her husband’s secrets? In a matter of moments she’d told a stranger that Mr. Whittaker was in the Confederacy and soon to be engaged in outwitting the Union navy.
    Glynis could just imagine what Baumann would do with that information.
    “It’s not fair, truly,” she said.
    Lucy turned from regarding the scenery through the carriage window. Tears swam in her brown eyes, causing Eleanor to reach over and pat the younger woman on the arm.
    “I’m sorry,” Eleanor said. “I didn’t mean to cause you any distress.”
    “I’ll be living in some hideous place while Gavin goes off to play at war. I’ll never see my family or go home again.”
    Play at war? Did she think the thousands of casualties were part of a game? Wasn’t she concerned about her husband’s safety?
    Evidently not, because the woman rarely mentioned her husband for the rest of the day, and when she did, it was in a quarrelsome tone. She wanted a maid and Gavin wouldn’t hire one since they were due to leave Scotland soon. She needed new dresses and he was just being too frugal. She wanted a puppy but he had stated that he didn’t feel comfortable bringing a pet into someone else’s home.
    Nor did her complaints end there.
    Glasgow was thriving because of shipbuilding. But Lucy saw nothing impressive about the shipyards or the port with its docks and new quays.
    In her eyes England was even better equipped.
    They traveled down Trongate, past the GlasgowCross, the original center of medieval Glasgow. Neither it nor the Tolbooth steeple interested Lucy.
    London, Lucy said, was filled with ancient landmarks and buildings.
    When Eleanor pointed out the horse-drawn buses, Lucy shrugged and remarked that Glasgow had a reputation for being one of the filthiest cities in the Empire. Eleanor countered that Queen Victoria had opened up the Loch Katrine Scheme and now the entire city drew water from the Trossachs.
    Nothing Eleanor said affected Lucy’s opinion about Glasgow or Scotland. Sometimes, people neither wanted to learn nor change their minds.
    To Lucy, London was the hub of the universe, the place to be admired above all others. Although they were careful not to show Lucy the wynds and closes of Saltmarket and Gallowgate in the East End, Glasgow still came off a