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“You sure?” Marge asked. “You get first dibs. May be a cooler room waiting.”
“I’m sure. I’ll come with you girls to see your rooms, but this one is definitely mine.” I looked back at the bed with the beautiful floral blankets on it and imagined snuggling beneath them, feeling so small in the middle of the giant bed.
“Okay, let’s go!” Marge led us on a tour of the other three bedrooms, each stunning and historically correct. When everyone got done choosing their rooms, we each went to the closets, swooning over the historical clothing hanging inside of them.
“I love this so hard!” Sylvie grabbed a dress and pressed it against her. “What about this one?”
“It’s perfect!” I answered, then I pulled out a dress that looked to be my size. “How about this one for me?”
“I love it!” Sylvie answered back, and we spun around together holding our dresses to our bodies.
“I was picturing more lace and glamour.” Alice flipped through the wool dresses. “These aren’t at all what I envisioned.”
“Scottish ladies didn’t wear the fashions of France and most of Europe,” Sylvie answered. “Think ofOutlander. Claire wasn’t wearing huge frilly dresses.”
“What about the red one with the plunging neckline? I want the red one,” Alice sighed.
“That was in France,” Sylvie answered. “These are traditional dresses. They are beautiful!”
“I suppose,” Alice said with a pout. “But I was picturing like big Renaissance dresses when you said we got to dress up.”
“Go check the other closets.” I pointed toward the door. “Maybe they have some fancier styles for you.”
“Good idea.” Alice hurried off.
Marge stood frowning at the closet. “I don’t do corsets and dresses.”
Sylvie patted her back. “It’s for fun, Marge. Go to your closet in your room and pick something out. We’ll all meet back out here in twenty for the meet and greet.”
With a grumble, Marge slumped her shoulders. “Fine.”
We smiled as we watched her go, then Sylvie and I squealed one last time at our dresses, and I hurried off to my room to change. After struggling to figure out how to put on the layers of the dress and secure it with the ties twisting up my stomach, I finally managed to finish. I looked in the antique mirror and swooned at the woman staring back at me. I could have stepped right out of the fairytale books I’d read every night as a child.
A knock on my door pulled my attention. “Ready?” Sylvie called in.
“Ready! Though I could use a little help finishing my lacing,” I called back, giving myself one last smile in the mirror. I gathered up my skirts and hurried to the door, swinging it open with excitement to see the other Widows. I gasped at the beauties staring back at me. “Wow! You all look incredible!”
“And look at you!” Sylvie cupped her mouth. “Gorgeous, Doris! Here, I’ll finish lacing you up. We just got done doing each other.
Her fingers went to work on the lacings I’d struggled with as the other Widows waited.
“I admit, I thought the dark materials were dowdy, but once I got it on, I think I look incredible.” Alice waved a hand over her gorgeous figure.
“This is so fun!” Sylvie shimmied her shoulders, and her beautiful gown swayed with the movement. She secured the last of my lacings. “There. All done, Doris.”
“Thisisso fun!” I squealed as I did a little spin, then turned to Marge whose downturned mouth matched her downturned shoulders.
She frowned deeper. “I look like an idiot.”
I looked at her dress, too long for her short height, and smiled. “I think you look lovely.”
She frowned deeper. “I say again, I look like an idiot.”
“Well, I look like I would have definitely been Queen back in the day.” Alice did a little swirl with her hips. “Any King would have decapitated his Queen for the chance to put me on the throne beside him.”
Sylvie pulled a face. “Now there’s a horrifying image in my head.”
Alice shrugged. “I’m just saying, if I wasn’t born royalty, I would have found my way to the throne anyway. Heads would have rolled, and I would have reigned.”
