Beatrice supposed that Shona imagined this was a normal marriage, and that Beatrice was waiting eagerly to be taken to the marriage bed by her new husband. She could hardly tell her maid the truth so she only smiled and blushed.
“Yer blushes become ye, Beatrice Whitmore,” Shona remarked approvingly, seeming far more forward than Margo usually was. “There’s many a lass would give her eyeteeth for such roses in her cheeks as ye have.”
“Ye can call me Beatrice, ye ken,” Beatrice offered, feeling that she needed a friend, maid or not.
“Nay, I cannae,” Shona shook her head. “The Laird said ye’re to be Beatrice here, so I shall call ye Beatrice, and Lady MacSween soon enough.”
“I willnae tell him if ye willnae,” Beatrice suggested and Shona laughed again.
“Ye’ll be getting the both of us into trouble, Beatrice,” she replied and bustled off to the other side of the room with some shoes.
Beatrice looked from the window again, towards the dark tower. He was so far away from her that she knew it must be deliberate. Either he wanted her out of his way, or he wished everyone to know her virtue was untouched. Maybe both were true, or there was some other explanation.
Her skin prickled as it occurred to her that if she could see Leo MacSween from her window, he could see her too. She had better not stand there in her nightgown, or anything less. The thought of that made her feel a little hot and restless. It was a foolish notion that she ought not to entertain.
“This afternoon, Laird MacSween will present ye around the castle,” Shona interrupted Beatrice’s strange thoughts. “What would ye like to wear?”
Beatrice touched the neck of the brown and gold dress she was already wearing.
“Is this one nae suitable?” she asked. “I only put it on before the council meeting and I thought it would do for anyone if was good enough for the clan council.”
“Ah, ye’re nae dressin' for all those advisers and soldiers and servants, Beatrice. Ye’re dressin' for the man ye’ll be weddin'.”
It was a new idea to Beatrice, but after a moment’s thought she nodded to Shona. When Leo MacSween had smiled approval of her appearance earlier, she had liked it. She would like to see him smile like that at her again.
“This green silk?” suggested Shona, holding up another dress. “It has the same structure as yer brown dress so yer stays and petticoats need nae be changed. Rubies would work well with the green. I’ll send Tyler to swap the emerald necklace for something with rubies.”
The clothes and jewels were finer than any Beatrice had ever seen, her own family jewels long sold to service her father’s many debts. She only nodded to Shona and stood to allow the maid to unfasten and remove her gown.
The maid had just slipped the green silk over Beatrice’s head when the door of the chamber burst open. Her gown hanging from her shoulders and breasts partly uncovered, Beatrice spun around with alarm, to see the huge figure of Leo MacSween frozen in the doorway, looking half mesmerized and half as though he had just received a blow to the head.
Was it better or worse to receive this look than the smile Beatrice had hoped for? She wasn’t sure, but her heart was beating faster than it ought, even once the initial shock of the door opening had passed. The laird’s dark eyes seemed utterly fascinated by her state of semi-undress.
Recovering quickly, Leo MacSween averted his eyes as he realized the scene he had interrupted.
“Ye must get ready,” he barked at Beatrice. “We want to get around the whole castle this afternoon. Good God, woman, ye were dressed before. I had no idea…”
“Please, me laird, yer lady is still dressin'. Cannae ye nae wait a single minute outside the door for her?”
Shona’s voice was a perfect mix of respect and pointed persuasion.
“I have turned around,” he said gruffly and Shona sighed and tutted as she started fastening Beatrice’s gown.
“There now, ye look even more bonnie in the green than the brown. Daenae ye think so, me laird?”
“It is very bonnie,” he answered without even turning back to them.
“The color is beautiful,” Beatrice told Shona and then directed her words to the man in the doorway. “I must thank ye for all these lovely clothes, Laird MacSween.”
“It’s a beautiful color,” Beatrice agreed. She lifted her eyes to Leo’s, but he was staring down the hallway as if avoiding her gaze altogether. “I should thank ye for all these lovely clothes.”
“The castle stores are full of such gowns,” he answered briskly. “Me mother, me aunts, me grandmother, and other ladies besides, seem to have collected a whole wardrobe apiece and left them all here. If ye daenae wear them, they will only gather dust and feed moths.”
Beatrice trailed him out into the hallway. She noticed his arm extend towards her and then drop back to his side. He was staring straight ahead, so she assumed he had simply forgotten she was there, despite it seeming like he had meant to embrace her and pull her closer to his body. Like the smitten expression she had imagined on his face earlier, she was pretty certain that Leo MacSween was not a man who did much embracing.
“Any woman who agrees to marry me needs to ken what this castle and clan are built on,” Leo began.
He didn’t slow his pace for her. She was thankfully a brisk walker by nature and wasn’t struggling to keep up.
