Abby realized Jannet thought she meant men’s pants. “No, I mean where are my underclothes, my underpants?” When Jannet just frowned, Abby scanned the room, looking for her dirty clothes. “Where are my clothes?”
“Is that what ye call the rags ye wore? There were no pants.”
Hitting her forehead with her hand, Abby tried to talk clearly as if speaking with a child. “They were small pants.” She moved her hands apart to show how big and, pretending to hold a pair of panties, held her hands in front of her lower abdomen.
“Ye be talking like aneejit.” Jannet rolled her eyes back and gazed at the ceiling as if she were thinking about what Abby said. She looked back at Abby with piercing gray eyes. “Ach, that tiny piece of rag? Aye, it’s with the rest to be washed.”
“Good, that’s good, then. Do you have any other underclothes I can wear?”
“Ye have yer sark.”
Abby decided to leave it at that. There was no point in telling the woman about underclothes if people of that time never wore any.
The woman looked at Abby as if she were crazy. “Now sit down and let me do ye hair.”
Sighing, Abby sat down, and within minutes, Jannet had Abby’s hair braided and bunned with her bangs in ringlets. She pulled Abby back onto her feet and popped a beautiful satin gown over her head and buttoned up the back.
Abby took it all with good grace, her mind dipping into thoughts that Fiona MacKinnon would be at the feast. Abby wanted to look her best when she met what could very well be Iain’s fiancé.
She absently played with a lock of her hair and gazed at the orb. What would happen when the MacKinnons arrived? Would the MacKinnon laird be expecting an announcement? Would Iain agree to the marriage and the joining of the clans?
Jannet nudged Abby to the long, polished metal mirror hanging on the wall, and Abby pushed thoughts of Fiona and her father out of her mind. She could do nothing about them.
She stepped in front of the mirror and gasped. Thesapphire blue of the gown matched her blue eyes perfectly. She frowned at the low neckline that seemed to increase the size of her breasts. She felt them, wondering if there was some padding under them. Nope. It was all her. She tilted her head and smiled at her reflection. She had never envisioned having an hourglass figure, but the dress showed one off in its entire splendor. She grinned. Not bad. Not bad at all.
She wondered what Iain would think of her now that she was clean and so finely attired.
A knock at the door sounded a split second before it opened. Iain stood on the threshold. Abby’s heart flipped as she took in his clean clothes and shaved face. He could have been straight out of the cast of a historical movie. With his belted kilt, the white shirt that made his tanned skin seem even darker, and his ebony curls flowing over the shirt’s collar, he would have been the hero for sure. HERE
She wiped her clammy hands down the sides of her dress as his eyes roamed over her from head to foot, and as they rose again, they lingered on her décolletage before spearing her eyes. Her insides dipped, and tingles ran along her backbone. Heat, red and molten, flooded her cheeks as she locked her gaze with his.
No one moved until Abby glanced at the ever-watching Jannet. The woman peered from Abby to Iain and, smashing her lips together as if she were trying not to smile, wrapped a thick scarf in the same green plaid as Iain’s kilt around Abby’s shoulders and ushered her to the doorway.
“You are beautiful,” Iain whispered.
“So are you.”
His lips quirked in a smile, but his eyes remained filled with admiration.
They had only reached the top of the stairs, when a commotion broke out below. The shouts for Iain sounded distraught.
Chapter 22
Iain said, “Go to yer room, and I will come and get ye later.”
Abby nodded but stayed staring down at the large entrance as Iain leapt down the stairs two at a time.
A man in a green tartan and a bonnet made of the same material talked in hushed tones to Iain and Donal, Iain glancing up at Abby every now and then.
Once the messenger left, Iain ascended the stairs and smiled at Abby. “It seems the MacKinnons won’t be visiting after all.”
“Why?”
“Kenneth MacKinnon sends his regrets. It seems Fiona has run off with the captain of MacKinnon’s guard.”
Abby didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Nay, I am glad she found someone else. We wouldna have suited.”
