Page 18 of In Love With the Wrong Highland Sister
“I am fatter than you,” Laria pointed out, laughing.
“Oh, yes.” Eloisa looked her sister up and down, laughing. “You are the size of a very fat elephant.”
“But each dress was made a bit bigger so we can adjust it,” Frances told them. “It is somethin’ I always dae for times like this. Now, ladies, off wi’ yer clothes!”
“I have a feeling my husband will be saying that on our wedding night!” Eloisa chuckled, then she became serious. “Ifhe proposes, that is. If not, I will still have this lovely dress to wear to ceilidhs.”
Laria fought down her jealousy and helped Eloisa into the red dress. She had a feeling that her sister was not taking the whole business very seriously. But then, she reasoned, Ellie was still young, and perhaps the gravity of what she was about to do had not sunk in yet.
At that moment, Lady Margaret came in and gasped when she saw her daughter standing in her beautiful crimson dress. “You look more lovely than you ever have in your life, Ellie! I am so proud of you.” Her eyes were glittering with tears as she prowled around Eloisa.
Indeed, Eloisa did look exquisite in the dress, which fitted her slender figure, covering every inch of her but still showing every one of her womanly curves. Its V neckline was not yet quite finished, its ends still ragged, and its puffed sleeves, gathered at the elbows into straight tight ones, needed to be hemmed, but it was already lovely, and when finished, it would be breathtaking.
“It doesnae need any alteration at a’!” Frances said joyfully, clapping her hands.
“You have done a fine job, Frances,” Lady Margaret said warmly. “There will be a handsome bonus for you when all the dresses are done.”
Frances’s face lit up. “Thank ye, milady. It is a pleasure tae work for such a lovely young woman.”
“I feel a proposal in the air!” Lady Margaret said happily.
“You look beautiful, Ellie.” Laria forced a note of warmth into her voice and pasted on a smile. She was utterly miserable. The fact that Eloisa was trying on wedding dresses—indeed, the fact that James was still here—meant that he had chosen his bride, whether a proposal had been made or not. She sighed and stood up, hoping to creep out before anyone saw her, but she was not quick enough.
“Going somewhere?” Lady Margaret asked politely. She was standing in front of the door blocking Laria’s exit with her arms folded and a determined look in her eyes.
“Out for my morning practice,” Laria answered. “I slept late, remember?”
“That is entirely your own problem,” Lady Margaret replied. “I told you yesterday about the dress fittings.” She reached out, turned Laria around, and pushed her toward the seamstress. “Try on the blue one,” she ordered.
Laria groaned.
“And Frances,” Lady Margaret went on, “you have samples of many colors there, but I forbid you to offer my daughter brown, black, gray, purple, or dark blue. No more mourning colors, Laria.”
Looking into her mother’s eyes, Laria could see that if she wanted to stay in drab widows’ colors, she would have to fight for the right to do so, and it was not worth it. Anyway, she reasoned, perhaps it was time to reenter the world again, not to marry—neverthat—but simply to live. Robbie would have wanted that, and all these months, she had been defying his wishes, and deliberately so.
“As you wish, Mother,” she acquiesced. She sighed, but despite herself, there was a tiny flame of happiness in her heart. “No more mourning colors.”
* * *
“Are you going to propose?” Gavin asked suddenly as they were both dressing for dinner.
“Not at the dinner table,” James replied.
“You did not answer my question.” Gavin pointed out. “Ellie will need confirmation of your intentions soon, Jamie. It is not fair to keep her and her family hanging on any longer.”
James sighed. “I know you are right, Gavin. I will make an announcement tonight over dinner. It is past time we went home, back to Kirkmuir. I long to see the family again.”
“As do I,” Gavin agreed, sighing. “Mother will likely be frantic with worry.”
“You look sad, Gavin,” James remarked.
“I wish—oh, it doesn’t matter.” He sounded frustrated, and he was frowning angrily.
“Yes, it does. Tell me.” James stood in front of his brother and gripped his forearms, and two pairs of bright blue eyes gazed into one another.
“Do you love her? Ellie?” Gavin asked.
Something in his brother’s eyes struck pity into James’s heart. “I don’t know,” he said, frustrated. “Come, Gavin. We will be late.”
