Page 89 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
“And why should she nae?” Ailis remarked, chuckling. “There’s naught so comfortable.”
“Ladies cannae wear trews to a weddin’,” Ellie replied, rolling her eyes. “They can only wear ‘em when they’re gardenin’.”
Squinting at the child, Grace couldn’t help laughing at the specific rule. “Who taught you that?”
“I just decided,” Ellie replied, grinning.
Brimming with a sudden rush of affection, Grace reached out and pulled the girl into her lap, hugging her tightly.
It remained a great relief, seeing Ellie laughing and playing and ordering everyone around, after the scare she’d suffered at Lord Huston’s hands.
The child didn’t remember much of what had happened, thanks to the sleeping tonic, but she sometimes spoke ofthe bad manand how her father hadvanquishedhim—a word Lilian had taught her that she now used at every opportunity, even when it didn’t fit.
“I love ye,” she mumbled, her little arms looping around Grace’s neck.
“And I love you,” Grace replied, squeezing her gently.
She may not be her mother, but she was determined to make sure that the girl grew up loved and happy. They would make up for the years she’d had no one to play with and no one to tell her how wonderful she was.
Just then, Lilian burst into the room with a grin on her face. “I succeeded!” she chirped, gesturing back to the door. “I got her into one of Miss Sutton’s gowns.”
“And for no reason whatsoever,” Maddie remarked upon entering. “I keep telling you, it doesn’t matter what I am wearing. The only gown that matters is Grace’s.”
Lilian’s face turned bright red as she flashed Grace an apologetic look. “Well, of course, but… it does not hurt for you to look lovely too.”
And she did. Maddie, with her rare and radiant beauty, resembled some manner of goddess who had deigned to come down from the heavens to mingle with mere mortals. She was a vision in emerald green and gold. Her red hair was a lioness’s mane, utterly ethereal.
So, it surprised Grace to find her own expression of awe reflected back at her by Maddie.
“Oh, Gracie,” she gasped. “Look at you! I would not know an exquisite gown from a vulgar one, but… oh… youarethe Lady of Clan MacLogan. My goodness… I have no words. Truly, I have none. I have never seen anything more beautiful, and I have seen fireflies in November.”
Touching the back of her hand to her cheeks to cool them, Grace blushed at the emphatic compliment. “You are just saying that becauseyoulook like a queen.”
“Nonsense. When have I ever, in my life, said something I didn’t mean?” Maddie chided playfully. “And I do not look like a queen. I look ridiculous, and I can’t breathe, and I can’t decide which is making me crosser. Although I vow not to be cross at all, now that I have seen the true meaning of beauty.”
“Stop!” Grace urged laughingly. “I shall be purple by the time I get to the chapel!”
Lilian grinned. “Well then, you shall match thoseperfectflowers in your hair.” She winked at Ellie. “Whoever chose them has exceptional taste.”
The little girl positively glowed with happiness as she perched on Grace’s lap while Snowflake dozed.
“Well, this all sounds very happy.” A shy face peered around the chamber door, bringing a new voice with it.
Carefully moving Ellie, Grace got to her feet. She held out her hands to her older sister. “It is a happy day, Marianne. All thanks to you.”
“Not at all,” Marianne replied, coming to take Grace’s hands. “It was the very least I could do, and I did not do much. My husband did most of the convincing, and as he is acquainted with half the magistrates in London, there was no way he would allow any harm to come to my sister and her beloved. Father did the rest by making amends.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Grace scolded lightly.
Marianne waved the comment away. Her eyes sparkled as she took in her sister’s appearance. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “More beautiful than the last time, and not sad at all. I prayed it would be so.”
Overjoyed, feeling like she might burst with the happiness of it all, Grace pulled her sister into a fond embrace.
It didn’t matter a bit that Marianne stood rigid in Grace’s arms, for she hadn’t been given the gift that Grace had: she hadn’t been given three years at Horndean, surrounded by the most wonderful women, permitted to be free in a place where affection wasn’t frowned upon.
Marianne had married the first man she was told to, and though he had turned out to be rather nice, Grace knew thatshewas the lucky one, about to marry a man she already loved. She would never forget that or take it for granted.
“Yes, well,” Marianne said awkwardly, pulling back. “I just came to say that everyone is waiting. And one should not be late to their own wedding, especially not one they are looking forward to.”
