“Like yours was?” Kendra returned with a lift of one expressive brow. “I seem to remember you shaking in your—excuse me, my—red-heeled shoes.”
Amy’s eyes sparkled. “That was different. I was terrified. A shopkeeper’s daughter marrying an earl. It seemed wrong.” She smiled, tossing one long black ringlet over her plum velvet-clad shoulder. “But it was right.”
Kendra smoothed her mint satin skirts. “Cait has nothing to be nervous about.”
“Nay.” Caithren rolled her eyes. “Daughters of provincial Scottish baronets wed English marquesses every day of the week.” The ladies laughed. “But I’m not nervous. This is right, too.”
She believed it, with all her heart and soul. Still, it was no small step to be taking. Cait drew a deep breath and lifted her wedding gown off the bed. The first English gown that had been specifically made for her. Fashioned of sky blue silk, it had a silver tissue underskirt and real silver lace edging the scooped—but not too scooped—neckline. The sleeves were double-puffed with a spill of silver lace at the wrists, the stomacher—stiffened with the softer buckram rather than wood, by her request—embroidered with scrolling silver designs.
She held it up. “Marry in blue, love ever true.”
“Is that what they say?” Kendra helped her wiggle into it, watching appreciatively as it settled into place. “Oh, it’s lovely! If ever I fall in love, I want a dress just like this, but in green.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t want to wear green.” Cait glanced up from tightening the laces. “Green is unlucky. The choice of the fairies.”
Amy handed her the stomacher. “You believe in fairies?”
“Well, nay,” Cait said, working the tabs. “But it’s not worth taking a chance now, is it? Not on your wedding day. Besides,” she added, looking to Kendra as she sat to draw on her stockings, “Jason told me you have no wish to wed.”
“Not any of the men he chooses.” Kendra handed her a pair of blue ribbon garters trimmed with silver lace. “Stodgy old dukes, ancient rich earls, widowed marquesses with children. I’m not looking to marry a boring, acceptable man. I’m waiting for peerless passion. And not,” she added, “a duke. I won’t be ‘your graced’ for the rest of my life.” Tossing her red ringlets, she held out a sky blue satin shoe.
“I need the right shoe first.” The shoes were straight, not made for one foot or the other, but Cait had worn them yesterday to break them in. No sense getting blisters at her wedding.
“For luck?” Kendra frowned at both shoes, then handed her the other one.
“Aye. And that silver coin I left on your dressing table goes in the left shoe.”
“I’ll get it,” Amy volunteered.
“Do you hear that?” Cait froze. Haunting notes floated up through the open window. “Could it be bagpipes?”
“Jason’s surprise.” Kendra moved to shut the window. “Don’t tell him you heard.”
“Please leave it open. I won’t tell.” Cait’s heart swelled as she slipped the coin into her shoe. “Though how he thinks anyone within ten miles could fail to hear a bagpiper is beyond me.”
“I have something for you.” Amy slipped her hand into her pocket and came out with gleaming gold. “The first thing I made in my new workshop. May I pin it on your dress?”
Cait nodded and stood, her gaze riveted to the gorgeous oval emerald stomacher brooch as Amy pinned it in place. Surrounded by diamonds and pearls in a delicate filigree bezel, it glittered through the sudden tears that filmed Cait’s eyes.
“Jason told me you gave him your own emerald,” Amy said, “so I thought it would make a perfect wedding present.”
Cait’s fingers moved to caress it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned,” she whispered. “I will never be able to thank you.”
“Marry come up!” Amy laughed. “You have just thanked me already.” Stepping back to view her handiwork, she examined Cait from head to toe. “Dear heavens,” she breathed. “You look beautiful. Come to the mirror and see.”
“Nay. I cannot see myself fully dressed for my wedding.” Cait played with the ends of her straight hair, which Jason had requested be left free and uncurled. Self-conscious, she touched the wee heart patch on her cheek and managed a tremulous smile.
“Another sister.” When Kendra gathered them all into a group hug and they bumped foreheads, Cait giggled through her tears.
A knock came at the door.
“Are you ready?” Cameron’s voice came through the sturdy oak. “Colin said you’re taking so long you must be eating in here.”
“Quick,” Kendra said loudly. “Hide the food.”
They all laughed as Cait opened the door.
“Cait?” Dressed in a borrowed deep-blue velvet suit, Cameron looked almost as English as she did. “Crivvens,” he said. “Cait, you look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She blushed, looking down toward large cornflower eyes and a head of bright blond curls. “And who is this?”
“Her name is Mary, and she and her mother are very special guests.” When Cam lifted his hand, Mary’s little hand came up with it. “She, uh, attached herself to me.” He gave a sheepish shrug, but Cait didn’t miss the pleased glow in his eyes. “She may be walking down the aisle with us.”
So this was the Mary that Jason had run off to avenge. Caithren knelt, her silk skirts pooling around her. “Good day,” she said.
“Good day,” Mary returned in a small, polite voice. “I am pleased to meet you, my lady.”
“I’m not—”
“You’ll be a lady within the hour,” Cam interrupted with a teasing smile. “You may as well get used to it.” He blew out a breath, ruffling his straight, wheaten hair. “I, on the other hand, will never get used to being a sir.”
“Aye, you will.” Cait rose and linked her arm though his. “Shall we go?”
Luckily the three of them fit side by side down the corridor and wide stone staircase, because Mary still clung to Cam with
