Page 41 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
"I need to change. Now. Into somethin’ suitable for ridin’." Erica was already moving toward her wardrobe, pulling out gowns and discarding them just as quickly. "Somethin’ practical, but... but nice. Nae too nice, just..."
"Slow down," Ada said, catching Erica's fluttering hands. "What's brought this on? Where are ye goin'?"
"Fishin’. With Lachlan. He's... he's commanded me to accompany him." She pulled out a riding dress of deep green wool, then set it aside for a lighter blue. "Does this look too eager? I daenae want to look eager."
Ada's eyes sparkled with knowing amusement. "Commanded ye, did he? And how do ye feel about that?"
"Absolutely furious," Erica said immediately, then paused, her hands stilling on the fabric. "And... and..."
"And?"
"I daenae ken." It came out as a whisper. "I daenae ken what I'm feelin'."
Ada moved to help her with the laces of her current gown, her weathered fingers gentle and efficient. "Perhaps ye're feelin'relieved that he's finally stopped treatin' ye like a piece of glass that might shatter?"
"He grabbed me wrist," Erica said, but even as she spoke, she realized the words lacked the outrage they should have carried.
Ada gasped. "Did he hurt ye?"
"Nay, but?—"
"Did ye want him to let go?"
The question caught her off guard. Had she wanted him to let go? In that moment when his fingers had closed around her wrist, when she'd felt his strength and his determination, had she wanted to escape?
"I... I flinched."
"Of course ye did. But did ye want him to let go?"
Erica didn't answer because the truth was too confusing to voice. She had flinched—her body's automatic response to being grabbed. But underneath that instinctive fear had been something else. Something that had whisperedfinallywhen he'd refused to let her pull away.
"The blue," Ada said decisively, lifting the riding dress from the bed. "It brings out yer eyes."
"I daenae care about me eyes," Erica protested, but she was already stepping out of her day dress. "This isnae... I'm nae tryin’ to look bonnie for him."
"Of course nae," Ada agreed solemnly, though her eyes were dancing with mirth. "Ye're just coincidentally choosin' yer finest ridin’ dress for an afternoon of fishin'."
"Ada..."
"Lift yer arms, lass."
Erica obeyed, letting Ada slip the blue wool over her head. The fabric settled around her curves with familiar comfort, the color making her skin glow and her dark hair seem richer. It was one of her favorite gowns, practical enough for riding but also flattering to her complexion.
"Ye're shakin'," Ada observed as she worked the laces at Erica's back.
"I'm nae—" But she was. Her hands trembled slightly as she tried to help with her hair, and her breath kept catching in her throat. "Why am I shakin'?"
"Perhaps because this is the first time in days ye'll be alone with yer husband? The first time ye'll have to actually talk to him instead of hidin' in corners and avoidin' eye contact?"
"I havenae been hidin'—"
"Aye, ye've been hidin'," Ada said firmly. "We've talked about this, lass, there's nay denyin' that. And now he's called ye on it. Nay wonder ye're nervous."
"I'm nae nervous. I'm angry."
"Ye can be both, ye ken."
Ada finished with the laces and moved to arrange Erica's hair, pulling it back into a practical braid but leaving soft tendrils to frame her face. Her touch was gentle, soothing, and gradually Erica's breathing began to steady.
