Page 8 of Highlander’s Sloth

“I dinnae want to leave Mac an Goill, Christine.” Kirsty sulked, tossing her riding crop onto the floor. “It’s been me home since I was born.”

Christine gave a sign for her maid to leave them, whispering into the girl’s ear to do her bidding for some such thing. When the door shut on the maid, Christine gave her sister-in-law her full attention.

“Come now, Kirsty dear, ye cannae be surprised this has come about, can ye? Yer brither and ye have been loggerheads for the last five years. He mislikes yer predilection for sport and outdoor diversions, and ye have nae been able to abide by his strictures for many a month. I’ve never seen two people rub each other the wrong way as the two of ye seem to take such delight in doing!”

Kirsty picked up her riding crop and began to bang the side of her boot with it as if trying to make her point better understood. “He keeps going on about what a fine figure of a man this Macanroy heir is, but to be frank, I have no reason to believe gossip and hearsay. The man could be a veritable troll, and I would be none the wiser. And yet here I am set to marry the beast.”

Christine laughed. “Och, Kirsty, how I shall miss yer proneness to exaggeration when ye no longer live here. It’s for this very reason yer brither is to accompany ye to the lodge, and he will no’ abide ye marrying the man if he proves to be deformed. Come now, can ye no’ see the advantages of the match? Yer own home, yer own stables, and servants to command as ye wish.”

At that moment, the maid returned to the room with two maidservants following behind her. Each woman’s arms were full, carrying heavy brocade skirts, shimmering silk trains, and flouncing petticoats.

“See,” Christine said in a coaxing voice, “I have had yer mither’s auld dress robes, kirtles, and aresaids made up into gowns for ye. Will ye no’ try one on?”

Kirsty allowed herself to be pushed and pulled every way as the maids twisted the garments over her head and around her waist. When they had finished, Lady Christine guided her over to the tilted-looking glass in the corner of the room.

“Don’ ye look marvelous?” She wanted Kirsty to agree with her, of that she had no doubt.

There was no question that Kirsty looked as lovely as a rose in June. She was so tightly laced into her bodice that her waist could have been spanned by a large man’s hands. Her golden curls sprung in a riot of color around her heart-shaped face, bringing out the hue of her blue-grey eyes and enhancing the pink tone of her lips.

“Wait, wait, I have just the thing,” Lady Christine said, and ran to her dressing table drawer. From it, she withdrew a pink riband. Returning to where Kirsty was standing in front of the looking glass, she threaded the ribbon around her sister-in-law’s hair and tied it at the back of her neck where the rose-colored ribbons fell down her slender white back.

Kirsty looked at her reflection, hardly recognizing the elegant, beautiful woman who stared back solemnly at her.

“There! Ye will make the young gentleman’s jaw drop to the floor when he lays eyes on ye, Kirsty. Ye’ll make him forget all about those Parisian ladies.”

“What Parisian ladies?” Kirsty wanted to know.

Lady Christine hesitated before replying, “He is lately come from Paris, or has nae yer brither told ye? And Paris is...well, the ladies who circle the French King’s orbit are quite famously lovely. But I swear they could not hold a candle to ye, Sister.”

Christine spoke the truth. No jaded courtier could compare to the wild Highland beauty Kirsty offered to anyone who beheld her.

But Kirsty did not believe her sister. All she thought to herself was, They have a son and me brither has a sister he cannae abide, so I’m to be foisted onto the first man who’ll have me.

And with that gloomy thought in her mind, Kirsty asked for the dress to be taken off her, and then she walked sadly to her bedchamber.