A sexy dress to feel nothing but sexy in was a nice change of pace.
Still, I worried I was overdressed for a ceilidh.
Or underdressed.
My legs looked particularly long in the short dress I’d borrowed from Lucy, and they had a shine to them because Jazelle from the salon had smoothed on some kind of oil. “The dress is too short, right?”
Lucy appeared by my side in the mirror. She wore a knee-length dress as tight fitting as mine. Except hers showed less leg. But way more cleavage. It was a dark green, perfect for her coloring, while my dress was black. “Gorgeous, you have the best pair of legs I’ve ever seen, and I’ve summered on the French Riviera. I’m kind of pissed at you for hiding them.”
I chuckled and fidgeted. “Dresses and heels aren’t my thing.”
“I don’t know why. You walk around in those like you were born to them.” She gestured to the strappy, high-heeled sandals Lucy’s stylist had shipped overnight for me. Unlike her dress, I couldn’t borrow shoes because hers were all a size too big.
“If this dress is short on me, how short is it on you?” She was about three inches taller than I was.
She grinned wickedly. “Daringly so, gorgeous. Daringly so.”
I laughed and then abruptly stopped because the glamorous laughing woman in the mirror was almost a stranger.
“Okay, stop looking at yourself or you might get stuck,” Lucy teased.
“I’m sorry … I’m just …” I flicked a hand at the mirror. “I’m worried I’m overdressed, and I barely recognize myself.”
“Well, I think you look just like your gorgeous self, except with more makeup. And, of course, those legs that have been hidden all these years like the century’s greatest travesty. And you’re not overdressed. If you’re overdressed, so am I.”
“But you can get away with it. You’re Lucy Wainwright.”
She cut me a strange look. “I look presentable, right?”
Shocked she even needed to hear it, I nodded. “Of course. You look phenomenal.”
Lucy preened. “Good. Come on, everyone will be waiting.”
Throwing one last look at the mirror, I turned, my high ponytail whipping around with the movement. The ladies at the estate salon did our hair and makeup for this evening. And since I was getting ready at the castle, it only made sense that I travel to the ceilidh tonight with Mac, Lucy, Eredine, and Lachlan.
Lucy handed me the clutch she’d loaned me. It was black, unadorned, and matched my dress, which was modest, except for its short hemline. The dress had long, tight sleeves, contoured to my body and a straight, high neckline. I didn’t wear any jewelry. I wasn’t a jewelry kind of girl.
“You look amazing,” I said to Lucy again, hoping I hadn’t upset her by not offering her the compliment in the first place. I’d just been so taken aback by my own reflection. Now I felt a little self-involved.
The girls styled Lucy’s luscious hair in vintage waves, and she’d paired gold stilettos with her green dress. Earrings that sparkled in the light hung from her lobes, and I was pretty sure they were real diamonds and emeralds.
I couldn’t imagine walking around with something worth that much money on my body. Which was why I didn’t ask her the value of the dress I wore.
“Thank you, gorgeous.” Lucy melted at my reassurance and caught me by the elbow. “This has been so much fun today.”
“For me too. You’ve been such a good friend to me. I appreciate it.”
“Which is why I’m being such a good friend. Appreciation is a dying sentiment.”
Not only had Lucy helped style me for my first ceilidh, she and Eredine also tried to teach me Scottish folk dances while streaming music on Eredine’s phone. We’d laughed our way through the session, and I’d come to the conclusion that there was no way I would remember the steps nor could I even contemplate a folk dance in this dress.
“I wonder if any other members will attend tonight?” I mused as we walked out of her luxurious suite.
Lucy shook her head. “No. I asked around. Looks like I’m flying solo.”
“I thought they’d love getting into something as traditional as a ceilidh.”
“They do. But Lachlan hosts them here at the club. One for summer solstice and another at Christmas. As much as they love Ardnoch, they come here for the privacy, remember.”
“So do you, but you’re attending.”
Lucy shrugged. “I guess because the village feels like home too. Everyone treats me like an ordinary person. It’s great. And I love hanging out with Lachlan’s family.”
“Arrochar and Thane will definitely be there?”
“Should be. They usually are. Unless Thane can’t get a babysitter.” Lucy’s expression softened. “But hopefully he does tonight. I like coaxing him into a dance or two.”
Something about her tone caught my attention. Something … tender. “Thane, huh?”
My friend rolled her eyes as we descended toward the second floor. “Stop it.”
“I’m serious. Do you have a thing for Thane? I mean, I’d get it. If I had to choose, he’s the sexiest of the male Adairs.”
Her hand tightened on my arm, and she stiffened a little. “I’d advise against it. Thane deserves someone who is going to stick around.”
Wait. What? Was she … jealous?
“Oh, Lucy, I’m just making an observation. I’m not interested in Thane.” In fact, I’d had plenty of Adair interaction for one lifetime. I was still sore over Lachlan ignoring me two days ago and had studiously avoided him since.
“I know that.”
“So … you and Thane?”
Before she could reply, director-and-actor couple Merriam Burbanks and Jack Loman strode up the stairs toward us. I’d seen them around the castle but hadn’t interacted with them.
Jack murmured, “Evening,” and nodded his head in appreciation. Merriam commented, “You look beautiful, ladies. Enjoy your night.”
“Thank you, Mer,” Lucy called gaily as we passed on the staircase; I nodded my thanks, trying to act cool.
Laughing to myself at how surreal life was, it took me a second to catch
