The Jewel of the Glen by Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

Author:Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: highland historical romance, highland romance books, best historical romance novels, Medieval historical romance books, Historical romance novels, historical romance ebooks, medieval romance books, medieval romance novels, romance ebooks, Scottish historical romance, scottish medieval romance, scottish romance, sexy historical romance, sexy historical romance books, Steamy historical romance, steamy romance novels
Publisher: M.D. Dalrymple
Published: 2019-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

CAITRIN INDULGED IN a warm bath, with scented soaps, and had never felt so spoiled. To take an entire day to prepare for what amounted to a supper, instead of working, scrubbing, and cooking, seemed like such a waste. But Elayne and her mother forced her to indulge this day, a celebration just for her and Torin. Not for the first time, Caitrin marveled at the events unfolding before her eyes.

Once she rose from the bath and wrapped herself in a long cotton cloth, her mother sat Caitrin on a stool and brushed her hair over and over until it shined to rival a loch at sunrise. Elayne marched in with ribbons and gems (gems!) for her hair and a thin underskirt to wear beneath the gown.

The light outside the window dimmed as they finished dressing Caitrin, a job that required three women. The crimson gown fit perfectly, with the front lacing up just beneath her breasts, pushing them up in gentle swells against the gown, her décolletage milky and inviting. The deeper red velvet surcoat kept her décolletage exposed, but fit tight against her neck and tapered into sharp points at her wrists. With a flip of her thumb, the coat would come undone, and she could slip it off if she desired. ‘Twas a gown worthy of a queen.

The over-skirt flared out just enough to show off her slender waist, and as she moved, the gold and silver threads reflected the light, creating a dancing glow on the gown. ‘Twas magical, as though the gown was crafted by fairies. The gems in her hair, pulled up in a complicated braid with a few wavy locks escaping, were almost as rich and shimmery as her hair. The effect made her hair look as if Caitrin wore a gold crown and veil.

When she rose from the stool after the women’s ministrations, Davina, Elayne, and Kaleigh gasped in unison. Davina’s hand flew to her mouth, and Elayne, surprisingly, was speechless.

Caitrin was striking; they knew that to be true. Even King Robert had commented on her appearance, one she tried so desperately to hide. But in this gown, with her hair so intricately coiffed, her beauty bordered on sublime. If rumors of her comeliness had not traveled the length of Scotland yet, they would by this time tomorrow.

Elayne finally found her voice. “Come, my lassie. Your husband awaits in Declan’s study. Ye are to wait until everyone is seated, then enter. Your brother has arranged for a piper, so wait until ye hear his song.” She leaned close to Caitrin, pressing a soft kiss on her good-sister’s cheek. “Ye are divine, Caitrin, and Torin will no’ regret the day he wed ye. I doubt his eyes will move from your form at all this eve,” she whispered.

A soft blush pinked her cheeks, and if they thought that Caitrin could not get any more stunning, they were wrong. Elayne escorted Caitrin to the study and departed to find her own husband.

Torin tested the sturdiness of Declan’s desk, resting on the edge as he waited for Caitrin.

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