Page 82 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Daphne’s dress felt far too ostentatious. Lady Helena had given it to her. As a present, she said.

It was a blue and yellow striped gown, heavy with embroidery on the skirts and around the bodice. The embroidery was in a glittering red thread, standing out against the colors. There was lace at the throat and around the neckline, expensive stuff that Daphne would never have been able to afford herself.

The neckline itself was pretty low, enough that if she didn’t keep tugging it up, it would show the swell of her breasts.

Once again, that would hardly be permitted in England, certainly not for a mere companion. And yet it was the most beautiful dress Daphne had ever worn. It fit her perfectly, tailored to her form.

For the first time in a long time, she was wearing a dress that hadn’t been darned or patched, not even once.

Willow had a new dress too, a pretty little green piece with lace around the hem. The hem was thoughtfully lifted a few inches higher than normal, so that it wouldn’t drag in the mud. Her hair had been brushed out and plaited, and a new doll was tucked in the crook of her arm. River, of course, was curled up on her lap, sleeping.

“Ye look like a princess, Mama!” Willow chirped.

The door opened, and in came Helena and Skye.

Helena gasped, clapping her hands. “Oh, Daphne, ye look beautiful! Does she nae, Skye?”

For a moment, Daphne froze. Her recent experience with young women her age hadn’t been good. None of Lady Pilbury’s young friends seemed to like her. When her older friends brought their daughters, the women looked down their noses at her, scowling whenever Lady Pilbury’s back was turned. It was probably jealousy, if they thought she looked better than them.

Skye only stood there for a moment, eyeing her thoughtfully. Then she nodded approvingly.

“She looks exquisite,” she pronounced. “The dress is perfect, Mother. How do ye like it, Daphne?”

“I like it,” Daphne confessed, “but it feels too fine.”

“Too fine? Why?” Skye asked bluntly.

Daphne cleared her throat, glancing away. “I’ve been a companion for years. Companions are meant to blend into the background. This dress makes me feel very noticeable.”

Skye considered that, pursing her lips. Then she stepped forward, taking an amber pendant on a silver chain out of her pocket.

“This was mine when I was a girl,” she explained. “I loved it. It was gifted to me by a friend, so I suppose I should pass it on now. Consider it a present.” She looped the chain around Daphne’s neck and fastened it. Afterward, she glanced up, meeting Daphne’s eyes in the mirror, and gave her a wink. “Sometimes it’s good to be noticeable, eh? I think it’s yer turn, lass.”

She stepped back, and Daphne inspected her reflection once more with burgeoning confidence.

“Ye are right,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful, this dress. Thank ye, Lady Helena.”

“Think nothing of it. Ye deserve it.”

Willow heaved a sigh, scrambling down from her chair. The fox bounced down after her. “Can we go downstairs now? The Laird said there’d be dancing.”

“Aye, and we’ll dance with ye,” Helena promised, taking the little girl’s hand. “Come on, ladies. Shall we?”

CHAPTER 19

Heat and music washed over him. Fortunately, as the Laird, Hunter was allowed to sit grandly in his big chair and watch the world go by.

Willow weaved between the dancers, choosing partners wherever she wanted. At the moment, she was dancing with a grinning, hulking soldier who was bent double to keep her hands in his and her feet on the floor.

Skye danced with her husband, as graceful and athletic as always. Helena and Lady Pilbury sat together at the table, watching the dancers and whispering.

River did not seem to want to join the dancing, but he had favored them all with his presence. The little fox lay curled up on Hunter’s knee. At first glance, one might think that he was asleep, but a closer inspection revealed large, yellow eyes, wide and watchful.

Of course, Hunter thought wryly, stroking between River’s pointed ears, nobody could sleep through this din.

The musicians his mother had hired were certainly worth the money. At least half of the guests were dancing, and the other half were tapping their toes or fingers in time to the music.

And then Daphne stepped into the room. His world narrowed until there was only her, as if she were the only one standing in candlelight while the rest of the room was in pitch blackness. He heard his own breath catch in his throat.