She blushed, a flash of color rising in her cheeks as she locked eyes with her younger sister in the mirror. “So do ye,” she offered.
Abigail beamed as she stepped forward. “Aye.” She winked at her, coming to stand directly behind her, shoulder to shoulderwith their oldest sister. “But I am nae the one who has a man to impress.”
She reached out, giving one of Marissa’s curls a playful tug.
Before Marissa could react, however, Freya let out a squawk of displeasure and smacked away Abigail’s hands.
“She’s already impressed him enough that he wants to marry her,” she protested. “But ye’d better nae mess up me work. We dinnae want to send him runnin’ from the Highlands because his betrothed’s hair looks like a banshee’s.”
Marissa locked eyes with Abigail again.
He willnae be runnin’ anywhere. But that has nothin’ to do with me.
The secret of how Arthur came to be at Castle McEwan filled the air between them, but neither sister said a thing.
Freya, oblivious to the look they had exchanged, tittered away.
“Are ye excited to see him once he’s all cleaned up?” she asked. But she didn’t give Marissa a chance to answer as she voiced her next thought. “I bet ye are. Ye’ve nae seen him in three years!”
She pulled Marissa to her feet, turning her so that she could look at her gown. She tugged on the fabric, rearranging the way it fell around Marissa’s shoulders and hips.
“Shouldnae one of the maids be doin’ this?” Abigail asked.
Thankfully, only Marissa seemed to notice her tone, the barely concealed laugh at their sister’s need to be a busybody.
Freya waved off Abigail’s concerns, launching right back into her speech about Laird Reid.
“I must admit,” she babbled on, tugging the tartan so that it hung just so on Marissa’s curves. “When I first saw him, I was a wee bit worried. He looked a bit… dirty. But when he explained that he’d come here to see ye as soon as he returned from the war, that he couldnae wait…” she trailed off as she swooned, forcing Marissa and Abigail to once again share a long, pointed look.
Freya continued rambling, but Marissa tuned her out. She didn’t want to hear all about how her sister thought Arthur would clean up nice or how smitten he had seemed with her when he’d spoken.
It would break her heart to ken it was all an act.
She hated lying to Freya. But she also knew it was for the best. And, thankfully, Abigail did, too. Because their youngest sisterremained silent as Freya put the final touches on Marissa’s gown.
After what felt like hours, Freya stepped back and beamed at her. “I think ye’re ready,” she said.
The words caused a knot of anxiety and excitement to coil in Marissa’s belly.
This is it. Ye are goin’ down to a feast to celebrate yer betrothal. And in the mornin’, ye’ll be leavin’ yer life at Clan McEwan behind.
The sisters walked through the castle together, making their way toward the dining hall. As they drew closer, the din of conversation drifted to them.
When they walked in, the smell of food made Marissa’s mouth water as her eyes immediately scanned the crowd. How her sister had been able to amass this many people on such short notice was beyond her, because the hall waspacked.
At the far side of the hall was a long table overlooking the rest. Michael was already there, and his eyes softened the moment he spotted his wife entering the hall. But no matter how much Marissa looked, there was one person that she could not find.
Arthur had not yet arrived.
A few people stopped her as she tried to make her way to the head table. Freya and Abigail walked on, letting her deal with the questions and the congratulations as she made her way through the hall.
She wished they would have stayed with her. At least, she wished that Abigail would have. Because with each question she had to answer, with each lie she had to tell, a bubble of guilt had started to grow deep within her.
Finally, she reached the head table. There were seats available on either side of Michael. Positions that were often held for the guests of honor. Which, tonight, Marissa supposed was her.
The moment she was seated, she turned to look at him, finding him beaming at her.
“Ye look bonnie,” he said, his voice laced with pride. “Laird Reid’s heart will give out the moment he sees ye.”
