Page 33 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
The more Katie smoothed down her curls, the more they fought her. “I give up.” Katie dropped her arms. “Do what you will.”
Flora pulled a snowy white chemise over Katie’s head, pulled her arms up through the sleeves, then jerked the length of the garment down to the floor. The full, bell-shaped sleeves fell a bit short, hitting Katie well above her wrists.
Typical. I’m even too tall and gangly in the tenth century.Katie tugged at the sleeves and rolled her shoulders. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
“I’m no’ done yet.” Flora lightly shoved Katie’s hands away, took hold of the wide banded neckline of the garment and yanked it low across Katie’s chest, exposing her décolletage and shoulders. She stepped back with a satisfied smile. “There now. Much better, aye?”
Bare nearly to her nipples, Katie glanced down. “Um…little low, isn’t it?” If she leaned forward, as Nanny Fay used to say, everyone would see clear to kingdom come.
“Just wait,” Flora advised as she pulled a couple of rich wine-colored garments out of a trunk at the foot of the bed. “Now the skirt and bodice.”
With Flora’s help, Katie managed to don the skirt over the chemise without having the undergarment wadded up in all the wrong places. The low-cut bodice effectively pushed up what little cleavage she had, especially since Flora had the ties pulled so tight she could barely breathe. Thankfully, the wide straps of the bodice across her shoulders did tend to stabilize things and make it less likely for her to flash anyone when she bent over.
Ignoring Katie’s request to loosen the laces, Flora fetched an oblong wooden box from the same trunk that had held the garments. She nodded toward a small stool sitting in front of a simple dressing table. “And now for yer hair and jewelry. Sit ye down, m’lady.”
Katie started to ask about shoes but thought better of it. Her simple slip-on tennis shoes would do just fine and also be a hell of a lot more comfortable than the leather moccasin-like footwear Flora had on her feet. And who knew what type of footwear Highland noblewomen wore? Not many pieces of clothing or shoes from the tenth century had survived to be discovered. While Fiona was busy at the dressing table, she slipped on her tennis shoes then fluffed out her skirts to hide them.
“Come, m’lady.” Fiona waved her forward, holding a pair of combs that looked like they’d been carved out of bone.
After a great deal of tugging and pulling, Fiona stepped aside and put the combs on the dressing table. “Yer a fair queen, m’lady. And now for yer headpiece.”
She lifted a highly polished diadem bearing the same Celtic symbols that Katie had seen on Ramsay’s sword. Working the adornment into Katie’s elaborately coiffed and braided hair, Flora snugged it firmly against Katie’s forehead. The young maid, eyes sparkling and the tip of her tongue racing back and forth across her bottom lip, stepped back and clasped her hands to her chest. “A fair queen, indeed. Himself will be sorely pleased.”
Katie pulled in a deep fortifying breath as she stood. “Well…I guess I’d better go find Himself—yes?”I have a few words for Himself.
“Nay…one more thing.” Fiona held up a finger then quickly turned back to the box on the dressing table and pulled out a golden necklet with a single blood-red gem in its center. The tip of her tongue peeped out one corner of her mouth as she tiptoed and gingerly placed the substantial bit of jewelry around Katie’s neck. “There,” she said in a breathless tone filled with awe. “This piece came from the goddesses themselves. A gift to the high chief and his chosen mate.”
Gently tracing her fingers across the elaborate metalwork wrapped around her throat, an excited shiver raced across Katie’s flesh. What she wouldn’t give for her father to see her now. Museums would fly into a high-dollar bidding war to get hold of pieces such as the necklet and the diadem.
She tried to make out her reflection as best she could in the oval of polished metal Flora had propped in front of her. She had to admit…she kind of liked what she saw. But a disturbing thought put a damper on her little game of medieval dress up.
“Who did all this belong to, Flora?” She turned to the girl bustling about the room, setting everything in order. “Before me,” she added.
Flora went still, hugging the linen she’d just folded. She stared down at the floor and sadly shook her head. “The horde killed our former high chief as he fought t’keep them from the stone bridge into the keep.”
She turned to Katie and lifted her chin with a sharp intake of breath. “His lady bravely fought at his side, but they overcame her.” She stood taller as she turned away and looked toward the single window in the room. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Other clans arrived in time t’beat the horde back. Kept them from takin’ the keep and harmin’ the rest of us.” She paused and cleared her throat. “But our lady, the lady whose things yer now awearin’, ended her life within a fortnight of the raid. She couldna bear the loss of her precious love nor the memory of what the evil bastards did to her down there in the mud, alongside her husband’s body…afore help arrived.”
A sickening wave of heartbreaking sympathy washed across her. Katie pressed a hand atop the necklet, felt the jewel warm to her touch as though it were emphasizing all that its previous owner had endured. Such courage. Such pain. This precious bit of metal and stone had once belonged to a woman who had been a hell of lot stronger than Katie had ever had to be. The piece of jewelry suddenly felt as though it weighed a ton and Katie struggled with the desire to rip it off her throat. She had no right to wear this.
“I can’t wear this.” She fumbled with the hook and chain at the back of her neck, frustration building as the bit of jewelry held fast. “I have no right to wear this—take it off me. Now.”
Flora rushed over and stayed her hands. “No, m’lady.” She gently pulled Katie’s hands away and held them. “Ye have every right and I ken it in m’heart that she would’ve wished her things t’come to you. Ye do her memory proud, ye do, and ’tis my honor t’serve ye.”
Katie blinked against the sting of tears and squeezed Flora’s hands in return. What a place this was. What a people. How the hell could she ever measure up, ever survive in this time?
She forced a smile she didn’t feel and smoothed her hands down the folds of her skirt. “Then I guess you’d better show me the way to the great hall, so I can meet the clans.”
Chapter 14
Damn. He’s right where he belongs.
The certainty hit her as soon as she saw him. Hit. Her. Hard. So hard, she caught her breath and froze in the archway opening into the great hall.
Ramsay stood on the dais at one end of the cavernous meeting room that sprawled the length and width of the keep. Thegreat hall,as it was known by all, comprised the center core of the stronghold—and Ramsay now reigned supreme over it.
Formidable. Imposing. Arresting. All those adjectives fell short when it came to describing the mesmerizing man who had obviously not only found his element but totally embraced it.
He clutched his spear at his side like a king—no like a Greek god, like Zeus himself holding his scepter as he surveyed Olympus. A different breastplate from the one he’d worn earlier covered his chest. This one reminded Katie of the one Ramsay’s father had worn back at the altar. Highly polished iron and brass pieces shaped into what she was certain were meaningful symbols were inset into the piece of thick leather armor that had been dyed black and oiled to a fine sheen that reflected the light from the torches and the candles.
