Then the door opened and Lochinvar strode in with a smile. A lady’s maid followed him, carrying a dress for me.
I said, “It must have gone well!”
“Aye, I was persuasive.” He bowed. “I will stand in the hall while ye are dressed.”
Somehow I had managed to get a little luxury from his one meeting. I was awfully proud of him. I put my arms out, oddly growing used to letting other people dress me.
I pretended to be a lady, but my stomach growled loudly.
The maid bit her lip to keep from laughing.
I would need to be fed soon.
Finally I was done: I was much cleaner. My bodice was tight, the fabric heavy, the stitch work was fine. My sleeves were full and puffy and my skirts were wide. My hair was pinned back with a tiny twist to hide that it was so short.
Even with the embroidery on the sleeve edges though, I could tell the dress was plain. Especially compared to some of the fancy dresses I had seen Lady Mairead, Lizbeth, and Kaitlyn wearing in the... when had that been? The eighteenth century?
This was the seventeenth century. That might explain the plainness, or more likely I was given the basic model.
I had perfume spritzed on me and I was ready.
Lochie entered and stopped still. “Och, ye are beautiful, Ashy, m’wife.”
I grinned. “Did you just call me Ashy?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Aye, tis short for Ash of the Tree of life.”
I said, “Good. I like that. Now, you must dress, fast, because I’m starving.”
I turned my back on him, taking furtive glances, while he washed and dressed. A fine form, total hotness.
By the time he had dressed for dinner I was excited, hot, fanning myself.
He ran his hands through his hair again and put out an elbow. I placed my hand on his sleeve, and he led me down to the Great Hall.
We were seated at the main table, pretty far down from the Earl of Breadalbane, but it was nerve-racking anyway. The Earl was opulent, wearing a really high wig, and had rouge on his cheeks. His clothes were colored in gold and cream, he wore a high collar with lace. Everyone was exquisite looking, all the men were rouged, wearing long curly wigs, except Lochinvar who was fresh-faced, wearing his natural red hair tied back with a piece of lace. Lochie and I definitely looked like the poor relations,except he was very handsome. The most handsome man in the room, by far.
Lochie held out the chair for me. I sat. He whispered, “Ye are the most beautiful woman in the Great Hall.”
I blushed.
Then I recognized Lady Mairead seated near the Earl. She was much younger, early twenties, but it was unmistakable, she was beautiful and had the same haughty lift to her chin. Her eyes swept the table and landed on Lochinvar and me. Her eyes narrowed, then she quickly looked away.
Lochinvar whispered, “We must be careful, she canna ken anythin’.”
We were served our meal and I glanced around to make sure I mimicked the manners of the high-born people at the table. I did my best, enjoying the wine and the delicious food.
We mostly listened, as casual conversation was made at the high end of the table. Then I overheard the Earl say, “...ye ought tae consider him, Mairead, Young Magnus needs the name...”
Lochinvar sprayed his ale, then coughed to try to cover it up.
He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and said to everyone staring, “M’apologies, I drank up instead of down.”
Lady Mairead narrowed her eyes again. Then addressed the Earl. “Ye ken, I am not interested in marrying again. That is the end of it. Magnus has a name. His father is Donnan. I winna hear another word.”
The Earl tossed down his napkin, irritated.
Lady Mairead raised her chin.
