Taken by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📕

From there down it was all about width and volume.  Now, she lifted her arms – again – while Peigi added a thick roll around her hips.  “What is this called?”

“A bumroll, mistress.”

Why not?  “Of course it is.”

Next came a ruffled gold lace parlett that would cover her shoulders and bosom modestly beneath the low neckline of her gown, then the underskirt.  It was a bronze silk that was pleated into a diamond pattern with a tiny topaz sewn in at each point.  Finally came the gown itself.  Lush bronze velvet edged with woven gold embroidered trim and strings of pearls and topaz.  More of the same draped across the bodice.  It laced up the back, allowing for a tight fit, which was a good thing since even twelve-year old Aileen had more going for her up top than Scarlett did.  The skirt parted in the front to show the underskirt beneath. The hems on both had been let out but still only reached Scarlett’s ankles. The long draping sleeves were lined with the same silk as the underskirt.

Unlike The Tudors, there would be no heaving bosoms and bare shoulders in this gown.  She was covered and bound securely.  Thankfully the day had not been too hot, but she would likely lose ten pounds in water-weight sweating under so many layers.

Finally a matching, jewel-encrusted French hood covered her pixie cut, curving over her head from ear to ear with all the heft of the Crown Jewels.

“You look just lovely, Scarlett,” Aleizia enthused as she sat motionless at her vanity.  One of the other maids was braiding, looping and weaving her long blond hair into an impossible configuration.  It made Scarlett glad that she didn’t have the length of hair needed to be tortured so.

“Do you like the dress, Scarlett?” Aileen asked.  She was all ready to go, and clearly excited as she danced from foot to foot anxiously.

“I do like it.  It’s very beautiful.  And very heavy.”  She felt royal and wished there was a full-length mirror so that she could see the whole outfit.  It was certainly a weighty feeling, she thought, grinning at her pun.

Scarlett ran her palms down the rich velvet, wondering if Laird would think she looked pretty.  Ugh!  She was gushing like a schoolgirl.  You’d think she’d never orgasmed before.

“Thank you for letting me borrow it.  You look beautiful too,” she told Aileen.  It was true.  Aileen looked almost grown up in an even more heavily decorated gown of blue silk covered with pearls and with sleeves trimmed with fur that draped nearly to the floor.

Aleizia was also in blue, though hers was a darker shade that complimented her blue eyes.  Done with Scarlett, Peigi placed a matching French hood upon Aleizia’s head that seemed to frame her hairdo like a piece of art from the back.  She could have been a queen. “Your hair is just amazing.”

Aleizia patted her hair with a satisfied smile.  “Our Lady Mother has a very fine wig, if you’d like to wear it.”

Scarlett shook her head with a laugh.  “That’s okay.  I’m good.”

A trumpet sounded and Scarlett’s heart leapt with giddy excitement.  For the first time since arriving in this time, she was completely devoid of worry and the anxiety of her predicament.  Right now, it was all about joy and pleasure, and she meant to embrace it.  More openly, Aileen clapped her hands, the long ropes of pearls she wore swung from side to side as she leapt up from her chair as did her long, unbound hair.   Even Aleizia could hardly hold still as Peigi hurriedly slipped several long strings of pearls over her head as well.

“Come, Scarlett,” she cried, grasping Scarlett’s hand and tugging her out of the room.

Laird was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.  Without his kilt, he looked like a completely different person than the rugged Scot Scarlett had become familiar with.  More severe, more stoic but for the molten desire still warming his gaze.  His dark blue velvet doublet was subdued, modestly quilted and embroidered with black threads.  Beneath it he wore a more tailored kilt of navy and red plaid.  He wore thick matching hose beneath it and embroidered leather shoes.  A short, matching cape was flung over his shoulders and a heavy-looking sporran was slung low on his hips.

If he hadn’t still managed to radiate pure masculine sexuality, Scarlett might have been hard pressed not to laugh at the sight of him with those jeweled garters above his knees.

“You look good,” she said with a slow nod, as she looked him up and down.  He did.  She especially liked how having his shaggy hair clubbed back accentuated his gorgeous face.  He’d trimmed his beard close as well, drawing attention to his squared jaw. “You can’t be comfortable though.”

Laird smiled and inclined his head.  “Nae more than ye, I’d wager.”

He passed soft greetings and compliments on to Aileen and Aleizia but his eyes strayed in her direction once more.

“Ladies!”

Rhys and Patrick appeared at Laird’s side.  While Patrick was as soberly dressed as Laird, Rhys was more flamboyantly attired in a jewel-encrusted crimson doublet and matching skirt instead of a kilt.  The sleeves of his doublet were slashed to reveal gold silk beneath.  His black cape was heavily embroidered and lined with the same gold silk.  The colors reflected in his shoes and hose.

“My dear sisters, my dearest Scarlett,” he swept an extravagant bow, pulling a matching velvet cap off his head.  “Yer all a vision to behold.”

Aileen giggled, but bobbed a curtsey, as did Aleizia.  Scarlett tried to bite back a laugh but it was hard to keep a straight face with a guy who dressed like that. “I gotta say it, Rhys.  You are rocking that doublet like nobody’s business.”

All four of them looked at her quizzically and Scarlett laughed merrily.  “It’s a good thing.  Trust me.”

“Father awaits.  Shall we go?” Patrick asked.

Rhys nodded and offered his sister his arm while Patrick