Jocelyn threw her hands up in frustration. “How am I to meet people of such high-standing when all I have is drab, gray gowns? They are certainly not made for high society.”
Flora shushed her. “Ye needna worry. They arena like that. Your gowns are fine. Quality made.”
“But they are ugly.”
“Hmmm.” Flora cocked her hip to the side and scratched her chin. “I may have a solution. There is a chest downstairs in storage that has gowns in it.”
“Why would the laird have a chest full of gowns?”
Flora giggled. “They arena his, obviously. But things get left behind, either on purpose or by accident. It doesna make sense to throw them away. Let me check to see if one might be fitting for ye for dinner.” She spun and rushed out of the room before Jocelyn could tell her not to go through any trouble.
But she was gone. Intent on her mission.
Jocelyn sat at the vanity and pinched her cheeks, trying to get color into them. It was no use. Her usually pale skin wouldn’t hold any color other than the faint yellow that was left from her bruises.
Mayhap Flora had access to some cosmetics she could borrow. She shook her head. That may be a bit too much to ask for.
Picking up the brush, she ran it through her hair, continuing with long strokes until it shone under the lantern light. Then she pinned it into her usual chignon at the base of her neck. She should probably try a different style, but honestly, it was the only one she was comfortable doing. It was the same way Victor had insisted she wore her hair. Simple, naught fancy.
That alone made her want to change the style.
Frustrated, she pulled the pins out and let her hair topple over her shoulders. It had a slight wave to it, with streaks of honey mixed throughout the blonde.
Flora returned, her arms carrying multiple gowns and she paused.
“Your hair is beautiful.”
Jocelyn felt her cheeks heat at the compliment. “Thank you. I wish I knew how to style it properly.”
“Well, let us find ye a dress that fits and mayhap I can help ye with that. I canna promise ’twill be perfect, but I can try.”
“It’s a deal,” she said happily and hopped up to look at the dresses Flora was laying out on the bed. They were all gorgeous gowns. “Women left these behind?” She asked in astonishment. “I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing.”
“Ye’d be surprised the things that get left behind. Gowns, shirts. Shoes, slippers. Hair pins, barrettes. All sorts of baubles.”
“That is amazing.” Jocelyn ran her hands down a gold-colored gown, with a green sash. The satin was butter soft to the touch.
“That would complement ye well. ’Twill bring out the honey streaks in your hair.” She lifted it up and shook it out. “This one was left recently.” She gave it a sniff. “It doesna smell as if it has been closed up. There isna any mustiness to it. Let me help ye get it on. I believe ’twill fit.”
Once Flora fastened the last button, Jocelyn moved to the looking glass. The gown was a little big on her small frame, but it still looked better than her gray gowns.
“Ye look beautiful.”
“Thank ye. I will pay ye for it when I receive my first payout.”
“Pfft.” Flora waved a hand in front of her in dismissal. “Ye will do nay such thing. ’Tis no’ my gown. As I said, someone left it. ’Tis yours now. Ye can do with it as ye please. If we had more time, we could have brought it to the modiste to have her take it in, but I think in a pinch ’twill work well. What do ye think?”
“It’s very nice.” She ran her hands over the satin. “And so soft.” It had been a long time since Jocelyn had felt so pretty.
Flora finished tying the sash into a pretty bow at her waist. “Now, sit, and let’s get your hair styled. Remember, ’tis no’ my area of expertise, but I will try.”
Jocelyn laughed. It was hard not to be happy in Flora’s presence. She was so cheerful, it was contagious. She sat in the chair as Flora brushed, pulled, tied, and pinned. By the time she was done, Jocelyn almost didn’t recognize herself.
Flora had pinned her hair in soft waves that piled high on her head, with soft curls that fell over her ears. She’d fastened a jewel-encrusted barrette in the center.
Stepping back, she studied her work and smiled. “Well, it took a while, and I’m no ladies maid, but I must say I think I did a fair good job of it.”
“You definitely did. I can’t remember a time when I’ve had my hair styled so nice.” And she couldn’t. Her wedding day, mayhap.
No, not even then.
“The laird is going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off of ye.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said shyly, dipping her head to hide her blush.
“Mark my words, he will. He may seem gruff on the outside, but he’s actually quite nice.”
She’d noticed, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Flora.
She almost didn’t want to admit it to herself.
