Page 73 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
“‘Tis only a wedding, Anna,” Elinor argued, her voice sharp. “But aye, let us go see the dressmaker.”
“Should I ask Thomas to come with us?” Katherine asked, already moving to the door.
Anna, on the other hand, rose to her feet, her hand still resting on her belly.
“Nay,” Elinor answered. “‘Tis only a trip to the market. I daenae think I need me man-at-arms to come. Do ye?”
Anna shrugged, and Katherine nodded.
They remained in the room as she slipped out of her dress. Her eyes scanned her dress as she hung it in her wardrobe, flashes of what had happened earlier suddenly flooding her mind.
His touch, the way he had worshipped her in the gallery. His tongue on her nipple. His fingers inside her. His teeth on?—
Get it together, Elinor!
She quickly grabbed another dress.
“I remember me first wedding dress. I didnae choose it,” she heard herself say as they left her room and headed down to the courtyard.
A carriage was waiting by the fences, and the three ladies walked towards it, the hot afternoon air gently caressing their faces.
“I was practically dressed like a present for Murdock to unwrap later that night,” she continued.
“Well, this time ye get to choose. Nay matter what color ye pick, I will fully support it. As long asyepick it.”
Elinor smiled.
They all climbed into the carriage, and the driver yanked on the reins. The clip-clop of horses’ hooves rose in the air as they left in a cloud of dust.
The journey to the marketplace was short and awkward. Elinor tried to think of something else. The fabric of the dress she would choose. The color and the design. The cut of the neckline. But she couldn’t.
The only thing on her mind was the gallery. Ciaran, half-naked, stroking himself. The way he wrapped his palm around his length and pumped slowly at first, staring into her soul.
Even as they alighted from the carriage and strolled around the market, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She nodded at a series ofM’Ladys that seemed to envelop them like wrapping paper.
They stopped right by the dressmaker’s stall, and the dressmaker showed them some fabrics Elinor might be interested in. The realization suddenly crashed into her as the older woman presented several bolts of fabric.
Anna stood close, watching her intently. “I daenae ken if there’s a right choice, but seeing these fabrics, I can tell there’s a wrong one,” she whispered.
Elinor’s eyes darted from one bolt to the other, the realization sinking into her further.
“What if I am only doing this all over again, Anna? Ciaran may nae be the problem, but what about his—well, his family?”
A tense silence swept through the stall before Katherine pulled the dressmaker aside and spoke with her.
Elinor couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she knew it was about the dresses anyway.
“Ye ken what they say,” Anna murmured, her voice soft. “Lightning doesnae strike twice in the same spot.”
Elinor opened her mouth to answer, but the words refused to come out.
“I spoke to him in the gallery, ye ken,” Anna added anyway.
“Aye, I could tell. He wanted to ken if I truly dyed Faither’s horse pink.”
“Oh,” Anna muttered, a wave of red creeping up her face. “He told ye about that?”
“What do ye think?” Elinor scoffed. “I kenned ye told him about the flower I painted on Faither’s head as well.”
