She had nearly broken her marriage vows and all because of some callow, philandering, English buck who had led her on. No doubt in the clear light of dawn he had been thoroughly shocked at her wanton behavior. She could only, bitterly, hope he was shocked at his own. God was issuing just punishment, thought Morag, the only God she knew being a Calvinistic one, incapable of charity or mercy and delighting in visiting terrible punishments on the sinner. She felt debased. Her books were left unopened. Miss Simpson had been right. Treacherous literature had seduced her mind and tempted her from the proper path. She thought the earl had regretted his forgiving kindness to her because he seemed to be sunk in gloomy meditation most of the time, occasionally throwing her furtive, sly looks from under lowering brows. A brief thaw made the roads passable again bringing Lord Arthur and Lady Phyllis. Lord Arthur had no need of money that day and so was on his worst behavior, managing to get under his brother’s thick hide.
What do You think about The Highland Countess (1981)?
