The Ghost by Greyson, Maeve (best motivational books to read .txt) 📕

“Nor mine,” Graham said.

Ian grinned. “I volunteered to help hold ye down ’til they had yer soul properly saved and watered, but Father said it wouldna work that way. So, I thought it best I keep quiet.”

“Hold me down?” Magnus repeated. “Dare I remind ye who tossed yer arse during the games at the last gathering?”

Ian’s grin widened into a toothy smile. “I let ye win. Respect for me elders, ye ken? I didna wish to shame ye.”

Catriona threw open the door, silencing their banter. “Is it done yet? Mercy and I dinna wish her to see the dress.”

“Is what done yet?” Magnus growled, even though he had a fair idea. If not for Catriona, he would tell the lot of them to kiss his arse. “If ye’re asking if I’m still bound for Hell, I would say that’s debatable.”

“From that comment, I would say it is done,” Mercy said. She stepped into the room but turned and faced back toward the hallway. “Perhaps, if we show him the gown, that will improve his temperament.”

“Hurry! Bring it inside. We dinna ken how long Gretna can keep Brenna busy in the healing room.” Looping her arm through Mercy’s, Catriona moved them both to one side as a pair of maidservants brought in a long bundle wrapped in yellowed linen. As soon as they had cleared the door, she hurried to close it behind them. “Quick, unwrap it.”

While he approved of the rich shade of blue, other than that, Magnus didn’t know what to say. It was a dress. All that mattered was if Brenna liked it. “It seems nice enough.”

“Seems nice enough?” Catriona repeated with a look that shot a chill through him.

Noting the varying levels of indignation flaring across all the females invading the library, Magnus backed up a step. “I am not an expert on dresses.” As Catriona and Mercy opened their mouths, he hurried to continue, “However, I am amazed that ye managed to fashion it in one night’s time. I canna fathom how ye did it.” There. That should save his arse, especially since the rest of the men, including Father William, had retreated and left him to fight alone. “I feel sure my dear one’s heart will be touched by yer kindness.” He relaxed and felt a great deal safer when all the women smiled.

“I am just proud I had not yet used the silk damask, or we never couldha managed it,” Catriona said. “’Tis simple, I’m afraid. There wasna time to fashion a proper mantua, but it turned out lovely, I think. We sewed nonstop to make it so.”

“We hope it pleases her,” Mercy said. “And lets her know how much she belongs here.”

“We’ve a proper feast planned for this evening. If she still wishes a private affair, ye can marry in the chapel with only us as witnesses and then come to the hall to celebrate.” Catriona gave a flip of a hand. “After all, we must all have supper anyway, aye?”

“Aye.” The wily women’s plans seemed plausible enough. He circled the gown, finally noticing the intricate detailing, layers of lace, delicate pleats, and gathers. Never again would he underestimate the power of women united by determination. “Ye say she’s in Gretna’s room?”

“Yes.” Mercy pointed at the door. “Go convince her to agree so we can help her get ready.”

“We’ve already had the bath taken to her chambers, and Mrs. Fitzgerald’s set the laundress to boiling more water.” Catriona gave him a stern look. “A tub and ample soaps have been taken to yer room as well. Hot water will be there soon enough. Make use of it, aye?”

“Welcome to our ranks,” Alexander said with a knowing smirk.

Graham laughed. “Aye, man. Yer life will never be the same.”

“A scrubbing before the feast wouldna be amiss for yerself, dear husband.” Catriona slid her unrelenting glare to Alexander.

“And you as well,” Mercy said with her sightless eyes trained on Graham. “I can tell where you are by your scent.”

“Makes a man thankful to be a priest,” Father William observed as he poured himself a healthy share of whisky and headed out the door. “I shall be in the chapel. Come to me when ye’re ready, aye?”

Magnus escaped the room, wondering if he should’ve done as the priest and brought a drink with him. Alexander’s library had always been a haven for the men. After today, Magnus had his doubts it would ever be so again. But he had to admit, with a feast planned and a dress readied, they had lifted considerable weight and worry from him. Maybe now Brenna would see that the past didn’t matter to any of them. Truth be told, not a one of them had the right to judge her. He snorted out a wry laugh. As the priest would say, none of them were without their sins. Now, if only he could convince her that was how they all felt.

Descending the narrow stone steps to the bottom level of the north tower, Magnus paused outside the door to the healing room. He couldn’t make out the conversation through the heavy oak door, but he could tell by Brenna’s giddy laugh that the visit was going well. Head bowed as he listened, what he heard made him smile. Gretna sounded just as happy. In fact, both women chattered back and forth like a pair of contented hens clucking over their morning feed.

He pushed open the door and entered. “Ladies.”

“Merciful heavens!” Gretna took hold of Brenna’s wrist and stopped her work with the mortar and pestle. “Flora asked me to come ’round today. I told her I’d be there early, and here it is well into the day. Would ye mind ever so much if I left ye for a wee bit?” Without waiting for a response, she whirled about and snatched up a covered basket. “I know ye can handle anyone who might come needing help. Why—ye know more about healing than