The Sassenach accent made Heather want to vomit—every English lord and lady felt entitled to bark orders at any Highlander as if they were below them.
“Go away,” Heather said with authority as she watched Yvaine and Ariana grow anxious.
“What?” Lord Nelson said, sounding annoyed.
“Yer bride has no wish to see ye. ’Tis bad luck to set eyes upon yer betrothed before the ceremony.”
“Silly superstitions,” Lord Nelson replied, banging on the door again. “Produce my bride, or I will have my guards break this bloody door down.”
“Pompous fool,” Heather whispered. “Go.” She pointed to the bedchamber, and Ariana and Yvaine quickly disappeared and barred the door behind them.
“Open the door!”
Heather swung the door open and stepped aside to allow Lord Nelson entry.
The older man with hawkish features stormed inside and gazed about wildly, then looked at Heather. “Where is she?”
Heather perched her hands on her hips. “I doona know how they do things in England…”
The lord scoffed at her, raising his self-righteous chin higher. “Nothing like they do things here, I assure you.”
“’Tis a good thing we aren’t in bloody England then.”
Her words shocked the man, and his already pinched features twisted into an ugly snarl. “You brash girl.” He took a step toward her but was stopped as several lads entered the chamber with the copper tub and buckets of steaming water.
“I encourage ye to stay, my lord,” Heather said with a grin. “Perhaps ye can scrub Lady Kali’s back for her.”
Lord Nelson’s dark brows shot up and he wagged a finger at her. “Your master will hear how disrespectful you have been to me. Perhaps a public beating would teach you some manners and how to humble yourself.”
Heather shrugged. “I am no stranger to the belt. And if I havena learned me lesson by now, I likely never will.”
“You better deliver my bride to the great hall on time, or I will hold you personally responsible.” The man left the chamber in a flurry.
Heather directed the lads where to set the tub and buckets, then sent them away, barring the door so there would be no more interruptions.
It took a few moments, but the inner door slowly opened and Yvaine peeked out. “Is it safe to come out now?”
“Aye,” Heather said, motioning the poor lass and Ariana to join her.
“That man is a beast,” Ariana said. “I doona know how me sister will be able to live with him.”
“She willna have to,” Heather said. “I know her wedding dress and shoes were delivered to yer chamber after Lord Nelson arrived.”
“Aye.” Yvaine nodded.
“What if…” Oh, she had to think carefully about this idea, for if it failed… “Some brides wear veils, like mourning veils, for virtue’s sake.”
“Aye,” Ariana said. “I have seen silk ones in the fine shops in Aberdeen.”
Heather gazed at Yvaine. “Ye are too young to have one, but yer dearly departed mother may have one among the things in her chamber.”
Ariana looked at Yvaine. “Ye still have yer mother’s things after she died?”
“Me father threatened to kill anyone who touched anything in her chamber.”
Ariana sighed sadly. “Me father had everything sold within a fortnight.” She stared at the floor, obviously saddened by her sire’s vulgar behavior.
Heather pitied the pretty girl. “Me plan might give ye hope, Ariana.”
