“And now her wardrobe is a rainbow,” Kristen teased. “Killian says he can spot her from across a field.”
“He likes it,” Ailis said firmly. “Says it’s like havin' sunshine follow him everywhere.”
Despite herself, Leona’s lips curved slightly. “That’s sweet.”
“It is,” Ailis agreed, her expression softening. “He’s a good man. Patient with me. Understandin'.” She turned back to the gown. “Now, have ye tried this on yet? We should make sure it fits properly. There’s nothin' worse than discoverin' on yer weddin' day that the bodice is too tight or the hem is too long.”
“The maids fitted it yesterday,” Leona assured. “It should be fine.”
“Should be and is are two different things,” Kristen said practically. “Try it on for us. Let us see.”
“I’d really rather nae.”
“Please?” Ailis’s eyes were wide and pleading. “I’ve been dreamin' of weddin' preparations the entire ride here.”
Soon, the sisters were helping her into the gown, fussing over the laces and the fall of the fabric with the practiced ease of women who’d done this many times before.
“There,” Ailis said, stepping back to survey their work. “Oh, Leona. Ye’re absolutely beautiful.”
“She’s right,” Kristen agreed, her voice warm. “Murdock is goin' to lose his mind when he sees ye.”
“Assumin' he even looks at me properly,” Leona muttered, then wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
But Ailis had heard. “What do ye mean?”
“Nothin'. Just…” Leona gestured helplessly at her reflection in the polished metal mirror. “It doesnae matter how I look if he’s nae really seein' me, does it?”
The sisters exchanged glances again, that wordless communication that came from years of shared understanding.
“Let’s sit,” Kristen said gently. “The gown looks perfect on ye. Ye can change back in a moment.”
She guided Leona to the bed while Ailis settled into the chair, both of them watching her with concern.
“Now,” Ailis said. “Tell us everythin'. How did ye meet? Was it terribly romantic? Did he sweep ye off yer feet with a grand gesture?”
“It was…” Leona searched for the right word. “Complicated.”
“The best stories usually are,” Kristen said. “Ignore me sister. She’s been reading too many romance novels lately.”
“I havenae!” Ailis protested. “I simply appreciate a good love story. And our brother finally findin' someone after all these years… well, that’s worth celebratin'.”
“Did he never… Was there never a chance for him to marry again? After his first wife died?” Leona heard herself ask.
“He never wanted to,” Kristen said, her voice softening. “Threw himself into his duties, into raising Skye. Said he’d had his chance at marriage and wouldnae try again.”
“He only cared about protectin' the clan, protectin' us, and now he forgets that there’s more to life than responsibility,” Ailis said.
“Speaking of the clan,” she added, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “did ye hear about Councilman Malcolm’s wife? Apparently, she’s expectin' again. Their fifth child.”
“Fifth!” Kristen shook her head in amazement. “How does she manage? I have three, and some days I feel like I’m drownin'.”
“Ye love every minute of it,” Ailis said knowingly.
“Aye, I do,” Kristen admitted with a grin. “Though I’ll nae be havin' a fifth. Neil agreed that three was plenty after they nearly destroyed our home last winter.”
“What did they do?” Leona asked, finding herself drawn into the conversation despite her earlier determination to keep her distance.
“Decided to ‘help’ with the bakin',” Kristen said, making air quotes. “Somehow, they got flour everywhere. And I mean everywhere. We were finding it in odd corners for months. Neil found some in his boot last week.”
