Page 5 of In Love With the Wrong Highland Sister
Immediately, Laria drew Eloisa into an alcove, and they hid behind a statue of a previous laird of the castle, an ancestor of theirs, listening carefully to the conversation as they observed the two men walking toward them.
Eloisa gasped as she saw the men accompanying her father. Both were very tall and handsome, and they bore such a striking resemblance to each other that it was obvious they were brothers. The one who was speaking was the broader and more muscular of the two, and even from a distance of fifty yards or so, the sisters could see that his eyes were a bright, stunning blue. Both men had dark brown hair, although the younger of the two kept his much shorter than the older one.
“Oh!” Eloisa was hypnotized as she gazed at them, and a moment later, she asked, “Which is the one who is going to ask for my hand?”
“I have no idea,” Laria replied, frowning. “But the one who is talking to Father is the older one, I think, so it is most likely he who will be your prospective betrothed.”
Presently the men stopped at the main entrance, then the brothers turned and looked around, smiling at each other, then at the laird.
“You have a beautiful castle,” James said. “You should be proud, M’Laird. As we rode through the estate, we could see how well-kept it is, and your tenants’ houses look immaculate. Of course, if we suit each other, your daughter will be living with me, but she will visit you as often as she wishes. I have no intention of keeping her prisoner, as I know some lairds do. If you wish, we can have that written into the marriage contract, and if at any time your daughter feels that she is not satisfied with me, we can come to some arrangement whereby she may come back to you.”
Laird MacLean stared at him. “That is very generous of you, sir, but what if my daughter does not please you?”
“Then we can do the same thing,” he replied, flicking a strand of long dark hair out of his eyes. “There are always loopholes you can find to annul a marriage, but I would rather not have to do that. When I wed a woman, I want it to be for life. I would prefer a love match, but it is enough that we like each other and get along well, as our parents do.”
Gavin nodded in agreement.
The laird smiled. “Exactly what I said to my wife’s father when I met him,” he agreed. “Then we are of a mind, Sir Elliott.”
“Please call me Jamie,” James invited.
The laird looked taken aback by such informality, but he inclined his head and concurred. “Come, time for a little more wine before supper, I think,” he said as they turned to go back inside. “I have rather a nice Burgundy that I have been keeping for a special occasion, and I think this may be it.”
The men wandered slowly back inside again, and the sisters could no longer hear what they were saying, so they sneaked up to their bedrooms by the servants’ staircase, and each washed before donning fresh clothes. Eloisa wore a pretty yellow linen dress embroidered with flowers at the neckline and the edge of the sleeves and dabbed a little perfumed oil on her wrists. She may not have wanted to be married, but she did not want to look like a scarecrow either. Whatever the occasion, she always took pride in her appearance.
Now, she opened the connecting door between hers and her sister’s room and stepped inside. Laria was donning a plain charcoal-gray dress with a high neck and no ornamentation, and her beautiful hair was still tightly scraped back into its usual unflattering plait.
Eloisa was horrified. “What are you wearing?” she squealed. “Laria, you cannot go to dinner dressed in that rag! You have been wearing it every second day for the last year!”
Laria shrugged. “I am not trying to attract a husband either, Ellie. I will do my duty and keep James Elliott busy. Is that not what you want?”
“You will not attract anyone’s attention looking like that!” Eloisa protested. “You are not still in mourning. Not even in half-mourning. It has been over a year since Robert died, Laria. Is it not time you moved on with your life?”
Laria was tired of hearing the same question over and over, so she ignored it. “What do you suggest I wear then?” she asked irritably. “It has been an age since I had a new dress made. The old ones are probably full of moth holes now.”
“I will find you a dress or die trying!” Eloisa growled. She dived into her sister’s spacious armoire and searched amongst the dresses, disturbing clouds of dust as she pulled each one out. When she had finished, there was a pile of a score or so discarded garments on the floor, and only three left in the wardrobe.
“Choose one of these,” Eloisa ordered, dragging her sister past the pile of dresses and pushing her toward the wardrobe.
“Blue, yellow, or red,” Laria sighed. “You have a yellow one, and the red is too bright, so give me the blue one.”
“Right,” Laria said grimly. “Red it is!”
“I said blue!” Laria protested, backing away from her sister.
“That shade is too dark and dull,” Eloisa declared as she began to undo the buttons on the front of the dress. When Laria tried to stop her, her sister smacked her hand away firmly. “Stand still!” she commanded.
Laria gave up and submitted to being buttoned into a deep crimson dress with a round neck and long sleeves. It was slightly more revealing, although still very modest, but at least it did not make Laria look as if she was on her way to a funeral. Then Eloisa unbound her hair and coiled it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck.
“Right, now you look like a normal woman,” Eloisa declared, satisfied.
Laria gave a brief glance into the mirror, then her eyes widened, and she took a longer look. She had not seen her reflection in months and was surprised at the appearance of the woman who was staring back at her now. The last time she had looked at herself was six months before, when she was exhausted, disheveled, and sorely in need of a bath. Now she looked, well, quite pretty!
“Surprised?” Eloisa asked, as she put her arm around her sister’s waist.
“Yes,” Laria replied faintly.
“You are a beautiful woman, Sister,” Eloisa told her, smiling, “You should stop hiding it.”
