Charity was too exhausted to even decide whether she liked it or not. She liked little Nathan, and she liked Graeme, and she really liked the moments spent alone with her new husband. The rest was, honestly, a bit overwhelming. She longed for her own clothing, and a familiar face or two. She wrote to Penny to ask if the maid would accept a transfer of position. With the slow pace of the mail coaches, Charity knew it would be weeks before she’d have an answer. The highland home was busy by day, but at night, it was far quieter than Charity’s native London. The stillness helped her sleep, though. That, and the carefully-measured doses of laudanum she made sure to take before bed. So far, though her dreams were sometimes troubled, she’d not experienced another breakdown. As grateful as she was for that, she’d nicknamed the medicine “the vile vial.” When it was empty, she was not going to get more. Not this time.
