Page 154 of Claimed Highland Brides

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Sarah was more excited about the impending handfasting than Aileen was. She kept picking up gowns, examining them critically and then discarding them with a dismissive shake of her head. “We dinnae have anything suitable!” she wailed.

Aileen sighed, sitting up in bed. “Suitable for what, Sarah? We’re just standing in the garden. Any gown will do.”

“Any gown will do? Have ye taken leave o’ yer senses?” Sarah looked positively scandalized. Aileen would have burst out laughing if she didn’t know that Sarah might just combust if she did so.

With a resigned look, she sidled out of bed and over to the wardrobe, where Sarah was desperately rifling through the meager fare. She had brought a few good gowns because she expected there would be various meetings with the governor to attend. Picking up a red plaid gown, she lifted an eyebrow at Sarah.

“What about this one?”

Sarah grumbled discontentedly.

“I think it will do,” Aileen insisted.

Sarah made more sounds of discontent, but she took the gown in her hand, inspecting it for heaven only knew what. “I shall steam it and perhaps find a red satin sash for yer waist. Did ye carry any jewelry?”

“I have my pearl earbobs.”

Sarah looked unimpressed but refrained from comment. She whirled away with the dress, leaving Aileen alone with the steaming tub of water. Divesting herself of her shift, she stepped into it with a sigh, resolving to relax and not overthink.

Last night’s outburst had come as much of a surprise to her as it had to Barclay. She didn’t know where the words had come from. She had seen that the MacFarland was clearly going to use every loophole to deny Barclay his birthright. A fit of unreasoning anger had streaked through her as she saw how dismissive he was of his own kin.

She knew, despite or rather because of the hard façade that Barclay was putting on, that he was affected by the indifference of his grandfather. She wanted to do something to shake the chieftain and to remind Barclay that he was not alone.

Now she was doing what she had sworn she would not: marrying him. They had barely had a chance to talk, to discuss their expectations. The lawyer’s words echoed in her mind.

A match between the MacFarlands and the Douglasses would be advantageous.

But for whom?

Her family certainly did not need anything from Clan MacFarland, and they surely had enough lands and resources that the Douglass mines were not a temptation for them. Or perhaps they were.

Who even knows? Certainly not me.