“Alaina said that it makes me look regal,” Sophie pronounced proudly. “Alaina, show him yers.”
“He doesnae care about me dress,” Alaina snapped.
Ryder folded his arms. “Ye think I climbed all these stairs simply for chit-chat? Nay! I’m here to see the dresses.”
She huffed, but he was sure he saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She got up, flounced over to the pile, and pulled out another dress.
Hers was light and dreamy, with a coral-colored silk dress overlaid with thinner gauze. The skirts were stiff with embroidery—silk flowers of all colors, endless greenery, and looping vines threaded through the pattern. It was certainly beautiful. The sleeves were long, like Sophie’s, and the neckline scooped low enough to expose her necklace. Alaina stared at him as if waiting for him to say something about it.
“It feels very grown-up,” Alaina announced, throwing back her hair.
“I like it,” Ryder said. “And ye picked one out for Megan?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Megan stiffen, just a little.
Alaina gave a rare smile and pulled out another gown.
This one looked as though it had been cut out of moss and leaves. It was crisp green, exactly the shade of grass underfoot, soaked with rain. It had a scooped neckline, riskier than the previous dress.
The sleeves were tight, the cuffs ending in a point over the back of the hand, but a shawl of gauzy green material was fixed to the back of the neckline and around the cuffs, adding an almost ethereal look to the garment.
It was sparingly embroidered with gold thread, enough to glitter when the light hit it.
In that dress, Megan would look like a goddess. An earth goddess, one who had just stepped out of the trees, barefoot and with loose hair flowing behind her.
Ryder closed his jaw with a snap, swallowing hard to work moisture into his dry mouth.
“It’s very pretty,” he managed.
“I thought so,” Alaina agreed. “Mistress Weatherby was nae pleased that Megan wasnae there, but we described her, and she suggested this. I do think it’s perfect.”
“I think ye should try it on, Megan,” Sophie chirped up excitedly. “Dae ye nae think so, Ryder?”
Ryder did not think that his thin vestiges of self-control would survive Megan in that dress. Already, he felt his blood rise, imagining her in that.
“She’ll dance well in that,” he managed. “It is a cèilidh, after all. We should all be dancin’.”
“I’ll dance if I can dance with who I want,” Alaina huffed, tossing the dress aside. Ryder felt faintly more in control of himself without that dress staring him in the face. He felt Megan’s eyes on him, and pointedly did not turn around.
“She should try it on,” Sophie repeated. “Why daenae ye try it on now, Megan?”
Megan gave an awkward laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her shaking her head.
“Nay, lass, nae yet. Once I’ve bathed, I’ll try it on then.”
Sophie looked faintly disappointed, but nodded anyway.
“Now that ye have seen the dresses,” Alaina added, folding her arms, “get out of me room, Ry.”
Her words were sharp, but she used his old nickname, which was nice. Ryder chuckled, making a mocking bow.
“As ye wish, me Lady. Enjoy yer ladies’ chatter. As forye,Sophie, I do believe it’s time for bed.”
“I have been trying to get her to go for the past half hour,” Flora remarked, chuckling.
“I’ll go to bed if ye tell me a story first, Ry,” Sophie offered, reaching up to tug at his arm.
Smiling to himself, Ryder bent down to sweep her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
