It is tricky to fathom why Emily Smith has yet to enjoy the prominence of fellow lilting luminaries of Celtic folk: Cara Dillon, Karine Polwart and Julie Fowlis. Her singing is as exemplary as any on the scene and the Dumfriesshire musician and Scottish Music graduate has a burgeoning reputation as a songwriter to match.

Scots dialect has always been a feature of Smith’s recordings and her fourth solo album, Traiveller’s Joy, comes complete with glossary for Sassenach novices. Produced by musical and marital partner Jamie McClennan, the latest release is touched by the adventure of travel and its corollary, the romance of home. The set is well-crafted – showcasing Smith’s crisp, crystalline vocals superbly – and enduringly pleasant without becoming sickly. Interest is sustained through an impressive balancing act and harmonious blend of traditional material, covers and original songs composed on tour in 2010.

This record finds Smith travelling in comfort as well as joy, making smooth and at times less-than-bold passage through an agreeable set of delicate arrangements with whistle and fiddle to the fore. After a fine pair of opening songs – in particular the title track, based on a poem by Helen Fullarton and exuding mystic optimism – a couple of Smith’s self-penned tracks slip pleasantly past without leaving much impression. Although ‘Sweet Lover of Mine’ excels as an original arrangement of popular trad. ballad ‘The Elfin Knight’, the second half is stronger, offering Richard Thompson and Rick Kemp covers among evocative traditional cuts. (Emily Smith provided support for Thompson in 2009 and was subsequently invited to perform at last year’s Meltdown Festival, curated by the former Fairport guitarist.) Nevertheless, that bell-clear voice is a highlight throughout – sometimes silky, sometimes steelier – but unalloyed and even unaccompanied on aptly-titled finale ‘What a Voice’, perhaps a brave choice for any lesser singer but thoroughly mastered here. Truly beguiling and more than holding its own, it almost seems a shame to save this for a swan song.

Although an appropriate Jane Austen quote inscribes the case (“If adventures do not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad”), Traiveller’s Joy is never exotic – the Thompson cover being the furthest venture into uncharted waters, an elegant piano/vocal version of ‘Waltzing’s for Dreamers’ that allows a faint note of hope to tinge the despair. Another haggard highlight is ‘Lord Donald’, a variant of Child Ballad no. 12 ‘Lord Randall’, with deathbed refrain and grim bequeathal of noose to poisoning lover, all sung with suitably ethereal gloom. These exceptions to the light and lively tone elsewhere help prevent things becoming blithe or twee (though ‘Butterfly’ wants for a metaphor or two) – but with more sheen than Smith’s last solo effort, some depth is concealed on first hearing.

Comparisons to Cara Dillon are well-judged and Traiveller’s Joy is a success for an artist on an upward curve who deserves a broader audience. For now, bringing cheer to a midwinter weekend will serve. Here’s hoping Emily Smith roves further from the beaten track on album number five.