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Chapter Fourteen
Blair
Blair looked around the shop, her gaze lingering on the sapphire and scarlet fabrics. Her fingers delicately traced the smooth cloth as she imagined herself dressed in emerald at the laird’s great hall. She couldn’t help but wonder what Aindreas would think if he saw her in such a wondrous color, imagining herself entering, all eyes on her. In her dreams, she saw Aindreas approaching her, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles tenderly.
“Ye look beautiful,” she imagined him saying.
Frowning, she quickly shook those thoughts away.
He wouldn’t care at all, she told herself while taking a step back and turning away from the garments. The shop was small, with large wooden beams holding up the roof and large windows displaying the tailor’s skill. Wooden mannequins stood at the windows, dressed in the MacBeans’ tartan, displaying red and blue patterns. One dress had frills hanging from the sleeves. Blair wrinkled her nose at it, finding the attire too gaudy by her standards. She wouldn’t even know where to wear such a dress.
Her gaze drifted away from the mannequins, settling on the narrow wooden stairs leading upwards to a second floor, where she assumed the tailor resided. Her gaze wandered up the wooden steps, her mouth parting in slight alarm as she found a short man with curling brown hair. His hand grasped his spectacles on his nose, moving them closer to his eyes while he looked her up and down, his mouth widening into a bright smile.
“Lady Alisa,” he said, his voice filled with excitement as the steps creaked under his weight. He ran down the steps towards them, and Blair couldn’t help but notice the regal yellow tunic he wore over his shirt. Golden buttons were sewn into the front while his tartan was tied pristinely around his waist. “It’s wonderful to see ye again. Have ye come to have dresses made for the winter months? Although, I suppose ye should have enough unless something is wrong with the garments?” He pursed his lips while his gaze raked over Lady Alisa, a shrewd glint in his eye. “I don’t believe ye’ve put on any weight, my lady.”
Alisa smiled thinly while Blair bit her bottom lip, fighting the need to giggle. Something creaked behind her, and she quickly glanced over her shoulder, finding a girl perhaps two summers younger than she with a shy smile and long, curly brown hair. Blair gave a slight wave while the girl pressed her body against the wooden beam in the middle of the room. She nodded shyly back at Blair before turning her gaze to the tailor.
”I have not come for myself, Mr. Fraser, but for the laird’s,” Alisa’s gaze narrowed on Blair, and she felt herself shrivel in response, “ward.” Alisa tilted her head while gesturing towards Blair.
Blair bristled, knowing Alisa would have liked to use a different term to describe her relationship to Laird MacBean. She supposed she should be happy Lady Alisa decided to hold her tongue on the matter.
Blair turned to Mr. Fraser, her hands gripping themselves nervously while his gaze traveled down the length of her. She jumped when he stepped towards her, his attention on her waist. “Isla, hand me a paper strip. We should take,” he snapped his fingers, his gaze lifting to her, “what’s yer name, Miss?”
“Blair,” she said softly, watching the young girl, Isla, hand the tailor a long strip of white paper.
She watched him hold the strip up before wrapping it around her waist. He snapped his fingers again, and Isla stood at attention. “Quill, lass,” he said sternly, and Isla turned on her heel, searching behind a wooden desk for ink and quill.
Blair heard footsteps fading away and turned, finding Alisa striding towards the door. “Will ye not stay?” she grimaced as soon as the words left her, knowing she shouldn’t be questioning a lady.
Alisa glanced over her shoulder, clucking her tongue. Blair cringed, readying herself for Alisa’s cruel words. However, the lady only smiled while reaching for the door. “Ye can’t ask me to watch ye have yer measurements taken the whole day,” she said, her voice sweet. “I have other arrangements to tend to.”
Blair shifted her weight, anxiety swelling her heart, making her hands tremble as Alisa opened the door.
Alisa chuckled. “Do not worry, Child. I will meet ye here when yer finished.”
Blair nodded, a chill creeping down her spine at Alisa’s widening smile. She watched the lady go, fear pulling at her, yet she didn’t know why. Lady Alisa said she would come for her when she was finished. She didn’t have anything to worry about.
“Turn around, lass,” said Mr. Fraser while kneeling in front of her. “I’ll need to get the inner measurements. Wouldn’t want ye walking around with yer hem this short.” His soft laughter wafted up to her while she slowly turned around.
From the window, she could see Alisa speaking to a lady carrying a basket. She took out a small, black pouch, handing it to the woman. What did the lady need to do in town? Blair thought while she watched the women speak. The laird had asked her to care for her. The lady wouldn’t have known about going to town this day. She frowned, watching Alisa turn away from the woman, who opened the bag and spilled several silver coins into her palm. Blair’s stomach churned as she saw Alisa step inside the carriage. She watched it pulling away, wondering if the business Lady Alisa needed to tend to was far away.
Blair decided that whatever it may be, it was none of her business. She heard the tailor shift behind her and felt his hands on her shoulders. Turning her head, she saw him measuring the length of her arms, giving a brief nod before making a mark on the paper.
“How many dresses would ye like, Miss Blair?” Mr. Fraser asked while writing something on the strip. Upon closer inspection, she noticed it was her name.
Blair blinked. “I do not know. The laird requested I have dresses made.”
Mr. Fraser smiled brightly. “So, I suppose ye should need at least four dresses made.” He twiddled four fingers at her.
Blair’s eyes widened, and she swallowed the gasp of surprise demanding to burst forth. “Why, that is too much, sir.”
Mr. Fraser rubbed the back of his head. “If the laird wishes for his ward to be well dressed, then she will be well dressed.” He snapped his fingers, and Isla sidled next to him. “My daughter will help ye look at the latest styles.”
Isla nodded, a book under her arm, which she held out towards Blair. “We can make ye anything yer heart desires,” she said softly, her voice high pitched and sweet.
Blair reached for the book hesitantly. She held it delicately in her hands, flipping through the pages and skimming her fingers over the beautifully drawn designs.
“Did ye draw these?” she asked Mr. Fraser.
