The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,24
his head. “Nay, m’lady. I have seen how he is with ye, and I swear, he has never been that way with any other woman before.”
Jenny joined them, bouncing up to Sorcha’s side as they gathered beside the head table. She pecked a quick kiss to Sorcha’s cheek. “I’m happy for ye, Sorcie. Happier than happy can be.” She clapped her hands. “Maybe I’ll be next.” Giggling bubbled free of her. “I canna wait.”
Sorcha bit her lip as Magnus melted back and shifted to stand behind Sutherland. Poor Magnus. He obviously feared he was in Jenny’s sights.
“To yer chambers, daughter. Don yer finest gown for yer first dinner with yer betrothed.” Greyloch fixed Jenny with a stern look. “Help Sorcha dress, then ye do the same, and if I catch ye in the guardhouse again, ye willna be seeing Edinburgh this year, ye ken? I’ve gotten wind of yer plotting, young lady, and I willna have it.”
Jenny failed at a downcast look but managed an obedient curtsy. “Aye, my chieftain.”
Sutherland caught hold of Sorcha’s hand and kissed it, trapping her in the depths of his steely blue eyes and succeeding in making her forget everyone else in the room. “I fail to see how ye can make yerself any lovelier than ye are right now.”
While usually immune to such flattery, this time, she found herself a bit breathless. There was something about the way he said the words. The look in his eyes. The subtle squeezing of his fingers. His silent message thrilled her a great deal more than what he said. Merciful heavens, what temptations and delights might this man unleash?
“I shall strive to rise above yer expectations,” she replied with a coy curtsy, then squeezed his fingers before pulling her hand away. She might know very little about teasing a man beyond reason, but she would bet her favorite slippers she could learn. Without a look back, she hurried away.
Jenny followed close on her heels as they wound their way up the tower steps to Sorcha’s suite of rooms on the second floor. “Ye must wear the deep red dress. I know exactly which trunk it’s in. I’ll fetch it straight away.”
Sorcha froze in place, one foot on the next stone step. She tightened her grip on the wood handrail Da had ordered installed in every stairwell after Mama’s terrible fall. “I canna wear the red,” she whispered. Memories of laughing with Mama during the fitting of that gown weighed heavy on her heart. It was after the final hemming of the dress that Mama had fallen down the steps and died. Sorcha was wearing it when she had knelt at Mama’s side and held her hand as her body had grown cold. She cleared her throat. “The green will do well enough, and it’s just been brushed.”
“As ye wish, Sorcie.” Jenny drew closer and patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know well enough ye still miss her. I miss her, too.” She nudged Sorcha onward. “On wi’ ye now. Ye know as well as I that Mama wouldna wish ye moping about like a lost calf. Chin up, lass. Mama lives forever in our hearts, ye ken? Remember how she always told us so?”
Sorcha smiled. Jenny was right. Mama lived on in their hearts. With a loving glance heavenward, she rushed up the remainder of the winding staircase and hurried into her chambers. Pausing halfway through her sitting room, she glanced around at all the reminders of how close she and Mama had been. Favorite books. A shared sewing basket. Mama’s own bow and quiver, ordered specially made and the leather carved and painted with red roses per Da’s order. Mama had been the finest archer and taught Sorcha the skill as well. The deepest, richest red had always been Mama’s favorite color. It was a sign. Mama’s spirit wished her to wear the red dress for Sutherland. She turned to Jenny. “Go ahead with ye. Fetch the red and shake it out. See if it’s fit to be worn before a good airing and brushing off.” The garment had been packed away in a trunk for over two years.
Jenny clapped her hands and danced about in a circle. “I know it’ll do just fine. I’ve had the maids give it a good freshening on every full moon to keep it cleansed of any ill luck.” She shooed Sorcha faster toward her bedchamber door. “Hurry and strip ye down now. The red calls for yer best shift