“I’ll need to wet it a bit,” she advised. “Get rid of some of the frizz. And mayhap we can add a flower? Or somethin’? I just dinnae want ye to look so plain.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “Ye give such good compliments.”
“Ye ken what I meant.” Freya playfully smacked her on the arm before turning and waddling out of the room.
She yelled something about finding a maid to fetch some water, her voice fading as she walked farther away.
“What are ye goin’ to tell her?”
Abigail’s voice came closer than Marissa had thought, startling her. Her eyes darted back up to the mirror, immediately spotting her youngest sister only a foot away, staring at her imploringly.
“Ye ken what I’m goin’ to tell her,” Marissa answered, keeping her voice low enough that Freya wouldn’t overhear. “It will be the same thing we told her earlier. We met at the market, we’ve been writin’ to each other for a while. It all started friendly, and we slowly fell in love.”
She shrugged one shoulder as if it wasn’t something she was concerned about. But, apparently, Abigail had additional concerns.
“Ye ken Freya isnae goin’ to accept only that as an explanation,” Abigail argued, brushing a lock of auburn hair from her face. “She’s goin’ to want more details. Like, what made ye fall for him? What made ye want to move from friends to bein’ betrothed? Are ye ready to lie to her about all of that?”
Guilt bubbled up in Marissa’s stomach. Because, truthfully, she wasn’t ready to lie to her older sister about everything to do with the relationship she was about to enter into.
But that didn’t change the fact that Marissa had to.
I’ve already lied about so much, more than any of them can ever guess. A few more lies willnae matter.
Marissa didn’t have time to say that, though. Not when Freya waddled back into the room, smiling with satisfaction.
“She’ll be right back,” she advised, crossing the room and taking back her place behind Marissa. “But for now, let’s see if we can start workin’ on a few of these.”
Marissa nodded, meeting Abigail’s eyes in the mirror, giving her a pointed glance before relaxing back into Freya’s hands. Not much time had passed before the maid came back, a bowl of water held carefully in her hands.
“Me Lady,” she said to Freya, giving her a slight bow as she presented the bowl.
“Thank ye.” Freya beamed at the girl, gesturing for her to set the bowl down on the small vanity.
The maid did as asked, before giving the sisters another quick, respectful bow and darting out of the room.
“So,” Freya said, pausing only to dip the comb she was using into the bowl before brushing it through Marissa’s short curls. “Tell me about the Laird. What do ye like about him? What made ye want to marry him?”
Marissa gulped. She could feel the weight of Abigail’s stare, refusing to look at her sister. She did not have to imagine the look Abigail had on her face.
“There’s too much to tell,” she answered, trying her very best to keep her voice from shaking.
Freya smacked her arm. “Dinnae be coy. Tell me everythin’.”
Marissa cringed. “Ye already ken everythin’.”
Abigail, knowing her middle sister’s discomfort and having mercy on her, finally chimed in, “Do ye think Michael will dance with ye tonight, Freya?”
Their oldest sister was easily distracted those days, and Abigail’s question was all it took to get her off the scent.
As Freya waved her hand in the air, blathering on about how she couldn’t dance even if she wanted to due to her swollen ankles, Marissa locked eyes with Abigail in the mirror.
“Thank ye,” she mouthed.
Abigail dipped her head in acknowledgment, but she focused on keeping Freya distracted for the rest of the time she was doing Marissa’s hair. It allowed Marissa a little bit of time to relax, a little bit of time to contemplate how she was going to make it through the night and continue to lie to the people she loved.
She took a deep breath, willing the hour to pass quickly. Which, thankfully, it did. In what felt like no time at all, Freya stepped back from Marissa, clapping her hands together and announcing that she was finished.
“Ye look so bonnie,” Abigail muttered, her voice indicating enough surprise that Marissa was unsure if she should be offended.
