Page 7 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

“Her hair,” Aileen said for her, and the other girl nodded.

“Oh! No, wait!” Dwyn cried, reaching up to cover her head.

“Nay. Ye have lovely hair, sister. Ye should show it, no’ keep it all pinned up on top o’ yer head like— Oh,” Una said with surprise as she pulled several pins from Dwyn’s hair and the golden strands unraveled and fell down her back.

“My,” Aileen breathed. “’Tis so long. When did it get so long?”

Una shook her head and moved away. “I’ll get the brush.”

“’Tis glorious, Dwyn,” Aileen said solemnly, grasping several strands and pulling them out to the side before letting them feather away. “Why do ye never let it down? I do no’ think I’ve seen it down in years, no’ even when I’ve come to harass ye awake in the mornings.”

“I never let it down,” Dwyn said on an exasperated sigh. “’Tis curly and it gets terrible knots do I no’ keep it up in a bun.”

“’Tis too heavy to curl anymore. Now it just lies in lovely waves,” Una announced, returning with a brush and handing it to Aileen to hold while she took out the thong that held Dwyn’s hair in a ponytail. Once she had her long hair lying flat along her back, she began to brush it, but asked, “If ye do no’ like it so long, why do ye no’ cut it?”

Dwyn grimaced at the question. “Mother made me promise never to cut it. She said I would be grateful one day, but . . .” She shrugged.

“Oh, Catriona and Sasha are going to eat their own tongues when they see Dwyn like this,” Aileen said with excitement as they took in the results of their efforts a few moments later.

“Aye,” Una said with satisfaction, and then met Dwyn’s gaze and said, “Ye look pretty.”

Dwyn just shook her head. Her face was the same, it was only the frame that had changed. Her hair was just another distraction like her breasts. The only difference was, at least she could hide her breasts behind her hair if they popped out now.

Chapter 3

“Dear God in heaven.”

Geordie glanced up from his ale at that exclamation from his uncle, and followed his gaze to the stairs where three women were descending. It took him a moment to recognize Dwyn’s sisters, Una and Aileen. He didn’t recognize the woman with them, but his gaze narrowed with interest as he took in her long, flowing hair. It was quite glorious, reaching down to her knees, a shiny curtain of pale gold that seemed to have a life of its own as it swished around her.

“With those breasts against his chest and that glorious hair wrapped around him, a man would be in heaven,” Acair growled, and was suddenly on his feet, crossing the hall.

Geordie frowned, his gaze shifting to the blonde’s breasts, and his eyes widened when he recognized that bosom. Large, full breasts were presently doing their best to escape the rose-colored gown they’d been stuffed into and he knew at once that it was Dwyn. Geordie then lifted his gaze to her face, almost embarrassed that it was her breasts he’d recognized first.

“Dwyn looks nice with her hair down, but why is Uncle Acair acting so strange?” Jetta asked next to him.

“He’s decided to woo Dwyn,” Aulay drawled with amusement.

“What?” Jetta asked in surprise.

“What!” Geordie exclaimed at the same time.

Aulay shrugged, his gaze focusing on Geordie as he said, “Ye said ye did no’ ken her and were no’ ready to settle down, and he’s a single Buchanan male too. So he’s decided he might like a keep o’ his own.”

“Oh,” Jetta said with a frown. “I had not thought to include him, because, well, what about Mav—”

“Mavis,” Aulay said abruptly, smiling over Geordie’s shoulder, and he turned to find the older woman standing behind him, a pitcher of ale in hand and a hurt expression on her face as she watched Acair bow and raise Dwyn’s hand for a kiss. The bow, incidentally, nearly rested the crown of his head against Dwyn’s bosom, Geordie noted with displeasure.

“Oh, Mavis,” Jetta said sympathetically, and he glanced around to see the old woman rushing away toward the doors to the kitchen, the full pitcher still in her hand. Jetta followed after her with concern on her face, and Geordie turned a scowl on his brother.

“Do no’ look at me,” Aulay protested, raising his hands. “I have done nothing.”

“Ye ken Acair and Mavis—”

“I do,” he acknowledged. “Though I did no’ think anyone else knew.”

“Everyone else knows,” he said heavily.

“Aye, well, they are no’ married, any more than you and wee Katie were.”

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