Page 48 of Falling for Her Highland Steward
“Aye, she’s a good lassie,” Hannah had agreed. “No airs an’ graces about her either. Treats everybody the same.”
Now, Erin smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, Hannah. But plenty of ladies keep their shape after having a baby. I am only one of many.”
She poured them some warm spiced ale while she inspected the materials, but it grew cool while she pored over them, for there was such a dizzying array of colors and textures that she was completely spoiled for choice.
“I like this one,” she said, holding up a square of scarlet velvet. The two other women squinted at it for a moment, then glanced at each other, frowning.
“I can see you are not very impressed,” Erin observed, giggling. She scanned the samples again, then picked out a deep brown.
Betty and Hannah shook their heads in unison.
“No, milady.” Betty frowned and shook her head again. “No’ yer color at a’. An’ ye are no’ goin’ tae a funeral.”
After Erin had gone through several more shades and tints of various colors, Hannah intervened. “Milady, we could be here a’ day,” she said, before picking up a swatch of green satin and holding it up next to Erin’s eyes. It was a perfect match for her apple-green eyes and glowed against the polished chestnut of her hair.
For a moment, Erin stared at herself in stunned silence in the mirror. “It is perfect,” she murmured, then her face broke into a wide smile. “Just perfect. Thank you, Hannah!”
Betty and Hannah spent the afternoon with Erin designing the dress, and afterward, she realized that she had rarely enjoyed a day quite as much as this one. Freed from the constraints of upper-class manners and decorum, she had been allowed to be herself, and she found that she liked herself better when she was with ordinary working people. As well as that, she found that she had a surprising amount in common with them.
She had lent Hannah a carriage to take her home, which quite overwhelmed the young woman when she saw it. “Milady! Me, in a carriage!” she cried in amazement.
“Of course, Hannah,” Erin answered, smiling. “It is far too dark to walk all the way to the village!”
“Thank ye, milady!” Hannah climbed into the vehicle with the aid of one of the guards, who took her hand and helped her up. At the last moment, Erin thrust a bottle of wine into her hand. The delighted look on Hannah’s face was all the thanks she needed.
She and Betty waved and watched the carriage roll away. “Your wine is in your room, Betty,” Erin said, smiling.
“But milady—” Betty protested.
Erin put a finger over her mouth. “Not one more word, Betty. It is only a token of my thanks.”
The dress was ready, and surprisingly, so was Erin. She looked at the plain but beautifully cut creation in the mirror and could hardly believe the difference between that and her first one, which had been a confection of satin, lace, frills, and flowers. She had had no say in that design at all and hated it.
Although the dress was very modestly cut, with a shallow round neckline, snug waist, and long sleeves, the fitting lines of the dress skimmed Erin’s body, showing every line of her perfect figure. A separate train at the waist was attached by a huge gold bow and trailed to a length of six feet behind her. The emerald satin, shimmering in the daylight, reflected her bright eyes, which were shining with happiness as she walked into the church hand in hand with Stephen, who was giving her away.
He was dressed in a small McCaskill plaid with a snow-white shirt, and he looked adorable—a perfect little man. Erin’s heart filled with pride as she looked at him, and she wished that Nairn, who had been his father in all the ways that mattered, could be there to see him.
“Mama,” he whispered, looking puzzled, “if I give you away, will I still see you? Will Uncle Cal take you away to live somewhere else?”
“No,” she replied soothingly. “We will still all live together.”
“Then why—” he began again.
“Shhh,” Erin said hastily. “I will tell you all of it later. I love you, wee one. Nobody can ever take me away from you.”
Then, holding Stephen’s little hand in hers, she began to walk toward her destiny. Her eyes were on the tall figure of Caillen, who was just a few yards away. At last, he was within her reach, and tonight, he would be in her arms. Her whole body thrummed with desire as she saw his magnificent figure with its broad shoulders, muscled calves, and wide chest. He was resplendent in his white shirt and plaid with the badge of his clan pinned to his shoulder and his claymore in its silver scabbard hanging from his hip. God, how she loved him!
Had she but known it, Caillen was thinking exactly the same thing. Erin was walking slowly toward him, hips swaying from side to side, the shimmering emerald satin of her dress skimming every luscious curve of her body. He reacted to her in the usual way, his manhood hardening almost painfully, and hoped that no one noticed the flush of desire that had suddenly spread over his cheeks.
When they reached the altar, Stephen placed Erin’s hand in Caillen’s, looking up at him solemnly. “Here she is,” he said, a little sadly. “Please look after her.”
He was about to turn and walk back to Betty, but Caillen stopped him by kneeling down on one knee and taking the little boy’s hand. “Stay here, Stephen,” he murmured, smiling. “You are the most important part of our family.”
Stephen grinned from ear to ear, then hugged Caillen and wrapped his arms around him. He stayed by his side for the rest of the ceremony.
“Caillen, will you protect, love, and cherish Erin?” Father Thomson asked. “Will you nurse her when she is sick and stand by her in her hour of need for as long as you both live and love?”
“I will, and I will love you forever, Erin,” he replied, smiling tenderly.
