Page 21 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
He reached for her hand and took it to his lips, brushing it with the lightest of kisses. Once again, their eyes met, and, once again she experienced the now familiar, fleeting rush of fire in her veins that seemed to sink somewhere low in her belly, leaving a sensation of heat between her thighs.
Tyra was making her way along the passageway, heading toward the solar, still somewhat dazed from her meeting with Ewan, when she rounded a corner and almost collided with Isla.
“Where have ye been?” The younger lass was out of breath, as if she’d been running. “I was looking fer ye.”
“I was wi’ yer braither, in his study.”
“Oh?” Isla gave Tyra a penetrating look and giggled. “Why, now that I look closely, I can tell.”
Tyra laughed. “And what, pray, would that be.”
Isla smiled knowingly. “Yer cheeks are pink and yer green eyes are sparkling. Ye’ve a glow about ye that was nowhere in sight yesterday.”
Tyra flicked one of her braids over her shoulder, shaking her head. “I dae believe ye’re imagining it.”
“Well,” said Isla, imagining or not, I dinnae believe that gown is helping. Ye’re glowingdespitethat miserable gray.”
Tyra could only nod. “I agree, it is nae me usual choice. But it seemed most suitable fer the unworldly life I was meant tae lead at the Priory.”
Isla took in that information with a look of surprise. “Ye were to be a nun?”
Tyra smiled at that. “Nay. That was ne’er the life I pictured fer meself. It was tae be me home fer a short while.”
“Hm. Dressing fer a nunnery daesnae suit ye at all.” Isla looked her up and down disapprovingly. Then her face brightened. “I have an idea. Come wi’ me.”
Tyra followed Isla through a maze of passageways until they finally arrived at their destination. Isla pushed open to the door to what was a long narrow room where numerous robes, cloaks, gowns and other items of clothing jostled for space.
“What is this?”
“This is where discarded clothing is kept. Some of it was never worn.” She pulled out two gowns on hangers, both of them in somewhat out-of-date styles, but made of fine velvet and wool. The velvet was a striking shade of burgundy, the other, palest blue.
“D’ye think these would suit ye?”
Tyra fingered the cloth. “They are very fine, yet I believe they were made fer someone of much greater girth than meself, and mayhap nae as tall.”
Isla clucked her tongue. “That someone was me late maither’s cousin. She ordered these made when she stayed here some years ago, but she quarreled with me maither and left in high dudgeon. Cousin Agnes returned tae her home before the gowns were delivered.” She chuckled. “Of course, they’re nae stylish, but at least nae one has ever worn them.”
Tyra let her fingers drift over the rich fabrics as she admired the colors and the gold embroidery on the skirts. “The fabric is beautifully soft and the colors are luscious, but I dinnae think they would suit me any more than this loose barley-sack I have on now.”
Isla laughed. “Dinnae ye worry. Our seamstress in the village, Maeve will reshape and redo them in any style ye wish. She keeps picture books of all the latest fashions from Italy and France.” Her blue eyes, which Tyra noted were a shade lighter than Ewan’s, were sparkling.
After re-hanging the gowns, Isla turned to Tyra. “Come, let us go in search of Joseph. I will ask him tae dispatch one of the servants tae the village without delay and bring Maeve tae fit them fer ye.”
Once Joseph had been located and had hastened off to do Isla’s bidding, Isla and Tyra adjourned to the solar, where they were served refreshments by one of the kitchen-maids. A platter of shortbread, honey cakes and bowls of cranachan with lashings of whipped cream.
“I saw some of the Council members earlier, when I was searching fer ye.” Isla said, between mouthfuls of delicious sweets, a little rim of cream on her shapely top lip. “Did me braither happen tae mention what they are here fer? It is most unusual at this time of year and in this dreadful weather fer them tae journey tae the castle.” She ran her tongue around the cream on her lip.
Tyra shook her head. “Mayhap he is reporting on me presence here. I believe it is usual fer the Council tae be made aware when the kin of another clan’s laird is visiting.”
Thinking of the Council meeting, her stomach lurched. If the plan did not please them, she would be back on the road, plodding toward Pluscarden, as soon as the weather brightened.
The prospect filled her with dread, however her answer seemed to meet with Isla’s approval and she asked no further questions.
Am I truly so desperate fer escape that I’m binding meself tae a stranger?
No time passed before Joseph was at the door to announce Mistress Maeve. A welcome distraction.
“We shall be in me bedchamber Joseph. If ye could direct her there I should be grateful.”
