Sìleas retrieved a comb from the side table while Moira played maid and finished unfastening Ilysa’s gown. When her gown fell to the floor, leaving Ilysa in her shift, she crossed her arms over her chest—not that there was much to cover.
“Just as I suspected,” Moira said, standing back and crossing her arms under her own voluptuous breasts. “You’ve a shape under there after all.”
“I’m built like a scrawny lad,” Ilysa said.
“No, you’re not.” Sìleas gave her a warm smile. “You’re as slender and dainty as a pixie.”
“What color gown, Sìl?” Moira asked, narrowing her eyes at Ilysa as if she were deciding how best to skin a rabbit. “Blue or green?”
“She’ll need more than one,” Sìleas said. “Her coloring is close to mine, and we haven’t much time, so I brought a few of my gowns that we can alter.”
“Haven’t much time for what?” Ilysa asked. “Why are ye doing this?”
The two women drew her over to the bench beneath the window and sat her down between them.
“I know ye have feelings for my brother,” Moira said, taking her hand again. “But ye simply cannot devote yourself to Connor any longer. Surely ye know that now.”
Ilysa knew it in her head, but her heart had not accepted it yet.
“What a lass needs to forget one man,” Moira said, “is another.”
“Most of the chieftains will be at the gathering at Mingary Castle,” Sìleas said. “And they’ll each have a contingent of warriors with them.”
“That means Mingary Castle will be filled to bursting with fine Highland warriors!” Moira said, her eyes sparkling. “Duncan is to meet Connor there with a galley of our men, and you and I are going with them. With all those handsome men in one place, you’ll have a grand time.”
“Men don’t notice me,” Ilysa said. “I’ll only embarrass myself.”
“Is this the same lass who braved a pack of pirates to spy for us when Hugh held Dunscaith?” Sìleas said, raising her eyebrows.
“That wasn’t so brave,” Ilysa said. She’d had it all under control.
“I’ll make certain ye don’t hide in a corner where the men can’t see ye,” Moira said. “You’ll have your pick of them for a husband.”
“But I don’t want a husband,” Ilysa said.
“Ye could stay here with Duncan, me, and the children forever, if that would make ye happy,” Moira said, touching her cheek. “But I don’t believe it will.”
Different as they were, Ilysa had grown very fond of Moira. If she stayed, Moira would do her best to make Ilysa feel useful, but she was not needed here. Dunscaith had a mistress.
“Don’t tell me ye plan to live with old Teàrlag and waste your life away in her wee cottage,” Moira said, “or I’ll have to slap sense into ye.”
“Moira doesn’t mean that,” Sìleas said, patting Ilysa’s arm. “Much as we all love Teàrlag, she is an old woman who’s not long for this world. Ye need someone you can make a life with.”
“I know Connor is the one ye want, but ye can’t have him,” Moira said.
“I’ve always known that,” Ilysa said in a quiet voice.
“Ye need a husband who can give ye children,” Sìleas said, her eyes lighting with a soft smile. “I’ve seen how good ye are with mine, and I know ye want your own.”
A tear slipped down Ilysa’s cheek. Sìleas had found a vulnerable spot. She did long for children.
“Ye need a man in your bed,” Moira said.
Hmmph. That had not done Ilysa any good before.
“And there’s no one who enjoys making a home more than you,” Moira added. “Is uaigneach an níochán nach mbíonn léine ann.” It’s a lonely washing that has no man’s shirt in it.
“Think of it,” Sìleas said as she smoothed Ilysa’s hair behind her ear. “You can have a family, a home of your own, and a man who will make ye happy.”
