Instead of her usual simple reflection, she saw a stranger in a fine silk gown. It was an elegant dress, adorned with lace applique and pearlescent beads that fit her tall, curvy frame.
If only I could wear the veil in perpetuity,she thought as she fidgeted with the strange attention, running her gloved fingers over the netting of the veil.
Her sister, Eilidh, adjusted the gossamer of the veil to cover her face.
“Hold still, sister,” Eilidh murmured, her breath warm against Isla’s ear as she brushed the sleeves of the gown. She stepped back, her eyes wide as she took her in. A soft smile blossomed on her face. “Oh, Isla. Truly, if only maither could see ye now. Ye are so beautiful.”
Isla felt a sudden, sharp ache in her chest. She could not recall the last time someone had called her beautiful, and meant it, nor had she ever missed her mother quite so much.
She was not like Eilidh, vivacious, effortlessly beautiful, and confident. Her younger sister possessed the kind of beauty that made passersby stop in their tracks to just savor her features. A true diamond.
Isla, on the other hand, learned long ago that people only stopped to gawk and stare at her deformity.
“It is the veil,” Isla said dryly. “And the gloves, of course.”
“Nonsense!” Eilidh cried. “Ye are a perfect bride. I wish this were to be a grander affair, where people could really see ye.”
“Ye ken I wouldnae like that. This is just as well. And more than I ever imagined for meself,” Isla said as her voice caught in her throat.
“I shall wait outside if you need anything further, Lady Isla. Do take a moment. This is a big day, for you both,” Jenny said with a wide smile.
The door clicked shut, and Eilidh gripped Isla’s hands, holding on as if letting go might shatter something precious. Their gazes locked, a silent current of sisterly devotion flowing between them, filling the room with unspoken reassurance.
“I cannae thank ye enough for this. For saving me. For saving our family. Ye were so brave riskin’ everythin’ for a wee wretch like me.”
“Ye’re nae wretch, sister! When ye were born, I ken ye were mine to take care of forever. Maither and faither would have it nae other way, nor would I.”
“Callum and I are so lucky to have ye. I daenae ken what I’d do without ye…”
Isla’s heart felt too large for her ribs. She pulled her sister’s hands to her chest.
“We are family, Eilidh,” she said. “And I will protect us always. Always. Do ye understand me? Never be afraid to come to me, nay matter what. I am yer big sister, no matter who I am married to.”
Eilidh’s bright blue eyes swam with unshed tears. “But I should be the one comfortin’ ye today! Ye are the one sacrificin’ yerfreedom, marryin’ a stranger! Aye for all the rumors, I barely ken what the man looks like. Is he handsome?”
Isla let out a gentle, soft chuckle, a sound she rarely made. Even she could not deny the absurdity of the situation.
Yes, Eilidh. Impossibly so. I havenae been able to stop thinkin’ about that every night leadin’ up to this.
“Aye, perhaps…”
“Mìle fàilte dhuit le d’bhréid, fad do ré gun robh thu slàn. Móran làithean dhuit is sìth, Le d’mhaitheas is le d’nì bhi fàs,” Eilidh said, in earnest wedding blessings.
The comfort of her sister’s words washed over her, their meaning easing the tension in her body.
A thousand welcomes to you, from your earliest days in health. May your life be long and peaceful, and may goodness and growth follow you always.
They closed the small distance between them, arms wrapping around each other with the ease and intimacy that only sisters share.
For a fleeting heartbeat, Isla felt herself transported back to the stone walls of Dalrigh Hall, to the days when she was fourteen and Eilidh barely three. She could see her little sister, ringlets bouncing, darting about with her dolls, utterly carefree.
The weight of their mother’s expectations—to care for her younger siblings—had always pressed upon her, but it was a burden she had embraced gladly. She loved them fiercely; after her frightful accident and the resigned acceptance of a spinster’s life, they had become her whole world.
What will me world be like now?
A firm, unmistakable rap sounded on the door.
“May I enter, my dears?” Aunt Honoria, their mother’s English aunt and the Dowager Countess of Swinton, called as she sauntered in.
