Page 41 of Sinbound to the Highlander
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Two days passed by in a flurry preparation for the Millesons. Though relieved that all was going as planned, Evan’s worries were trained on Miss Milleson, and how she might act when she arrived, and how Freya would be as well.
When the day of their arrival came, Evan was ready to receive them, standing at the front door with only two of his guards, both clad in warm browns and dark leather. He’d remembered how Freya had panicked at seeing the extravagant display the Millesons had and did not want to have her relive that.
The carriage came through the massive gate, and he refrained from tugging at his tunic, a pure light blue, with elegant gray and silver embroidery on the neck and hem.
Here they are.
The carriage stopped, and he gestured for one of the guards to open the door. Laird Lobhdain stepped out first, dressed in his formal kilt, and helped his lady out as well. She had a cloak over her dress, probably to shield from the growing cold.
His guard reached in and helped Miss Milleson out. She was resplendent and eye catching, in a pale dress with long, voluminous sleeves and a lace-up cinch to her waist. Resting on her breast was an amulet with a garnet stone. She had the bearing of a regal queen. Evan knew she would get his mother’s attention the moment she walked into the Great Hall.
Evan’s gaze drifted from her to Freya, who was standing behind her in a dark-maroon velvet dress with silver trim. There was a split in the skirts that showed the pristine white under layers. Miss Milleson was resplendent, but to him, Freya was radiant, even though she was doing her best to sink into the background.
Daenae hide, ye have nay reason to. Yer beauty outshines the stars.
He descended the steps and went to shake Laird Lobhdain’s hand. “Welcome, Laird Lobhdain, I hope yer journey wasnae arduous.”
“Nae, it wasnae. Thank ye,” his fellow Laird replied with a hearty shake of his hand. “ ‘Tis a shame that I havenae been to yer home in so long. The last time I was here, was when yer dearly-deceased Faither was about to be buried. This trip has been long overdue.”
“Glad ye’re here, then,” Evan said, then went to welcome the Lady standing quietly near her husband.
“Welcome, Lady Lobhdain, happy to have ye here,” Evan took her hands and cupped them with his. Looking over to the two younger women, he smiled. “Now that yer daughters, are here, I believe me castle now holds the prettiest women in the empire.”
The Lady laughed, “Save all yer charms for yer intended, Laird Ruthven.”
Bowing his head to the two, he said, “Welcome, ladies. Please, follow me. Me Maither wants to see ye all before ye can rest. Later on, we have a welcome feast for ye.”
He led them inside, up the stairs to his mother's rooms, and directly to her sitting room. She was inside, seated, clad in a dark tartan dress with floral-patterned embroidery and black-frilled trim. Her full-length sleeves were pinned back from covering her hands as she was doing needlepoint. She laid the canvas aside, and stood.
“Laird and Lady Lobhdain, Miss Milleson and Miss Crushom, I give ye me Maither, Missus Annys Saunderson, Lady of Ruthven,” Evan introduced.
“Laird Lobhdain, a pleasure to see ye again,” Lady Ruthven reached out. “Twenty-odd years, from the last, but I am happy ye are still happy and healthy.”
