Married to the Icy Highlander (Unwanted Highland Wives #3)

Chapter 14

14

“ W ill I be as pretty as ye are when I grow up?” Jeanie asked from where she was perched precariously on the back of a chair, staring with almost unblinking eyes at the maid styling Ceana’s hair.

Ceana herself was curled up on the chair, only half dressed and finding it hard to focus on anything that wasn’t the soft tug and pull on her hair. Which was far preferable to thinking about how it felt to be in her husband’s arms or the way he smelled. Like citrus and smoke in the best possible way.

She had not wanted to leave. A very big part of her had wanted him to scoop her up into his arms, pin her body between him and the door, and kiss her until she forgot every concern she had. Her pride be damned.

It had been over an hour now since she had left his room, and the flush had yet to leave her cheeks.

She glanced at the happy girl in the mirror with a soft smile of her own. “Ye are already prettier than me, silly,” she answered with a wink.

Jeanie nearly dissolved into a fit of giggles and shook her head. “Nay! I mean when I am a lady!”

“Well, are we nae supposed to be workin’ on ye becomin’ a lady?” Ceana quipped. “Nae that we have already started, that is true.” She put a finger on her lips and shrugged. “Tomorrow. We shall start yer training tomorrow. How does that sound? That way, we can have fun all night long! I am very much lookin’ forward to seein’ ye dance!”

However, Ceana was starting to think that the task her husband had assigned to her was going to be more difficult than she had originally assumed because she rather liked how free-spirited Jeanie was.

Jeanie was still so young, and she would have so many years ahead to worry about responsibilities and other things of that nature. For now, all she ought to focus on was playing and having fun.

But she was the Laird’s daughter, and she was expected to act a certain way and always uphold the rules. Perhaps Ceana could teach her how to separate her public life and her private one. That might be the easiest solution for them all, all things considered. That way, she would still be able to play and be herself in private, and she would be able to appease her father in public.

It reminded Ceana of how her mother would never argue with her father in public, but the moment they were alone, she would lay into him if she disagreed with his actions.

Jeanie huffed. “Fiona says that I dance like a duck walks! She’s nae verra nice, is she?”

“Are ye very nice to her?” Ceana asked, wincing as her hair was twisted and secured with pins.

There was no way her hair would move even the slightest bit with so many pins pinned to her scalp. Dread and anticipation coiled in her stomach. She couldn’t decide which one was stronger.

Tonight could change everything or nothing at all. It would be interesting to see how the Laird worked around her family. They were already married, but she wanted her mother to like him like she would a son and not just a laird. Ida was already fond of Jeanie.

Jeanie didn’t answer for a long moment. “Maybe she dinnae ken anything about dancin’ either! Maybe she’s only sayin’ such things to make me feel sad!”

“I may nae ken much about Fiona, but I dinnae think she has a reason to go out of her way to be mean to ye.”

Jeanie huffed again and slid down the chair to sit more properly. “I might be a bit of a handful… maybe… That’s what Ailsa always says.”

“If they are both sayin’ it, lass…” Ceana chuckled.

“Dinnae take their side! I cannae bear it!” Jeanie huffed again, puffing out her cheeks as she slumped further in her seat.

“Careful, or ye’ll mess up yer pretty dress,” Ceana said evenly, halting the tantrum before it started.

Jeanie wiggled upright, smoothing down her dress. It was a pretty beige and yellow piece, embroidered with little pink flowers along the hemline. No doubt by the end of the night, the flowers would be muddied and the skirts stained with who knew what. But it was striking, nonetheless.

Ceana’s dress was laid out on the bed. When it was brought to her this morning, she could hardly believe it. The stunning tartan displayed her clan’s colors—as befitted her position as Lady of the castle—the gray fabric so light that it was almost silver, peppered with pretty blues and teals throughout. The pins in her hair were the same colors.

Her husband certainly had good taste in dresses. This one was nearly as fine as her wedding dress, only slightly less fancy.

The maid finished up and took a step back so that Ceana could inspect her hair.

“Och, it’s so bonny that I dinnae mind losin’ feeling in me head,” Ceana teased.

The maid immediately paled at her comment.

“Nay! I didnae really mean it!” Ceana hurried to add. “I love it.”

She reached for the maid’s hand, but the woman was already halfway across the room, picking up her petticoats.

Perhaps she should have lugged her dress to her family home.

Every year before this one, they always got ready for the festivals together. It was strange not to hear her mother puttering around the room and humming to herself. They certainly did not have anything this fine before, but her mother would have loved to be here. She had already planned all the things that she would take Jeanie to see.

After donning countless layers, Ceana was finally dressed for the festival.

“Och, ye look perfect!” Jeanie exclaimed and ran over to her. “Och, I wish that we matched.”

Ceana stuck out her foot to show her that they were wearing matching shoes.

“Perfect!”

However, Ceana wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t change her mind after she had danced in her heeled shoes for as long as she was going to need to. Jeanie’s shoes were far smaller, but the little girl had insisted on wearing them.

“I dare say that the Laird will be most impressed with ye, M’Lady!” the maid said kindly.

“Thank ye,” Ceana answered without much thought, running her hands over the soft fabric and wondering if Neil would, in fact, like the way she looked in her dress. She certainly hoped that he would.

Why else would he choose a dress for her if he didn’t want to see what she looked like in it?

There he was again, creeping into her thoughts. Why did she keep focusing on him?

“Ready?” Jeanie asked, wiggling her fingers in Ceana’s direction.

Ceana took her hand, and they made their way downstairs, where Neil was waiting for them.

His eyes lingered on Jeanie, and then they slowly slid to Ceana. Something flickered within their depths, but he said not a single word to either of them. The frown on his face didn’t even budge when Jeanie skipped ahead of them and Ceana moved to dutifully take his arm. As tempting as it was to ask him what the matter was, she would rather he have the decency to talk to her about whatever it was on his mind.

Had she crossed the line by showing him that letter from his brother? It could not have possibly backfired on her, could it? She had thought that she was doing the right thing. Blaine was important to both of them. Even before she had asked him to marry her, he had been one of her closest friends, and not having him with her anymore was like a wound that refused to heal. He would have been the perfect person to explain his brother’s strange behavior to her.

There was only so much silence that she could take. There was only so much that she could tolerate of her husband moving stiffly beside her, that frown permanently etched on his face. Turned out that she wasn’t quite as stubborn as him, after all. By the time they were halfway to the village, trailing after a much faster Jeanie, he had not so much as looked sideways at her, even though she knew she looked nice for the occasion.

“Is there something wrong with me dress, M’Laird? It’s the one ye chose for me, might I remind ye. I cannae think of any other reason that ye could possibly have to be so cold toward me,” Ceana said bitingly.

She shouldn’t speak to him in such a tone, she knew, but it wasn’t like anybody else was going to hear her.

Neil’s jaw tensed, and only then did he glance at her—but for only a moment. “Nay, the dress is bonny.”

“Then what is the matter? Ye’re actin’ as if ye fell in poison oak,” Ceana huffed, turning her focus back on the road.

She was more hurt than angry if she was being honest with herself. She had thought that he might like… Well, she had thought that…

At her side, Neil exhaled slowly, releasing her arm to slide his hand around her waist. How was it possible that even the slightest touch left goosebumps all up and down her sides? It shouldn’t be possible.

Her breath caught as he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I wish I hadnae set so damn many rules…”

His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke, his nose tracing the curve softly as they walked. His hand tightened around her waist ever so slightly before he dropped it again.

How had the night gotten so warm all of a sudden?

Ceana had to grab her skirt to keep from fanning her face with her traitorous hand. Her cheeks felt as if they could spark kindling.

“Which rule do ye wish to take back right now, M’Laird?”

“Neil,” he reminded her, and all she did was grin. “Seein’ ye in that dress damn near brought me to me knees.”

If she could have melted into the earth, she might have just become one with the ground. He had no right to sound so damn alluring while speaking so casually. Her legs stopped working, and Neil smirked as he continued walking without her.