TemptationinTartan Read Online Free Page A

reality that would overtake her this night
would match her fevered dreams. She’d seen the happiness her brother and his
wife shared and wanted it too.
    But would Kieran change once she was his? As her husband, he
need not show her consideration. Her marriage to William had been one
disappointment after another. While she’d enjoyed the management of her own
home and the freedom that his frequent absences had entailed, she’d neither
enjoyed marital relations nor conceived a child.
    Due to her encounter with Kieran, she now understood the
reason. So why should she fear him?
    Because people were often not what they seemed. William had been
well-born, handsome, courtly…a true English gentleman. And so striking in his
red and buff uniform! She’d thought he’d give her everything she craved, but
she’d been wrong…so wrong. Her family had supported her choice, and they’d been
wrong too.
    So she couldn’t trust her judgment, or theirs. What if she
was making another mistake? She longed for Kieran—not only for his kisses and
his touch, but so she could discover whatever truth his presence would reveal.
She was petrified, but the ceremony couldn’t come soon enough for her.
    While Lydia lay in bed and worried, the sun slanted through
the curtains and Elsbeth, her maid, bustled in.
    Lydia’s maid was a small, pear-shaped Londoner in plain gray
attire with a white mob cap over brown curls. “Forgive me, my lady, but Lady
Henrietta desires your presence in her dressing room in ten minutes.”
    “Ten minutes! I’m still abed. ’Tisn’t possible.”
    “’Tis gone eleven, my lady.” Elsbeth went to the window and
pulled the drapes aside, exposing the tiny back garden of the townhouse that
Henrietta had bespoken for the few weeks they’d stayed in Edinburgh. “Your
dress has lately arrived.”
    Lydia jerked upright, nerves pushing up her anxiety another
degree. Her mother had insisted upon the creation of a new wedding gown for the
occasion, and Lydia had agreed, pleased to wear a new ensemble to begin her new
life. However, she’d forgotten Henrietta’s fastidious, demanding nature. Her
mother had found fault with everything the Edinburgh modiste had produced, from
the fine imported silks and brocades to the tiny, even stitches, which looked
perfect to Lydia’s eye.
    She hurried to the dressing room to see the magnificent
creation of gold-shot cream brocade with a matching satin underdress and modest
panniers, which suited her small frame more than the exaggerated styles many
preferred. Though the stomacher pressed her breasts high, ruffled edging
provided modesty.
    She submitted to being laced in. Ruby earbobs were donned.
Cream satin shoes with golden embroidery and buckles were set on her feet over
delicate stockings, which were themselves held up by embroidered garters that
matched her stomacher.
    All the while she became more and more tense. Trying to
ignore Henrietta’s complaints and Elsbeth’s fussing was more draining then the
ceremony would be, Lydia hoped.
    At last she was dressed, and the maid accompanied Lydia back
to her room to attend to her coiffure. As Elsbeth piled her curls atop her
head, Lydia became aware that the worms squirming in her belly had increased a
hundredfold since she’d awoken.
    * * * * *
    The days had crawled by, occupied as they were by the
endless wrangling of his solicitors and the Swan’s, but on the morn of his
wedding, time seemed to compress. Kieran bathed and shaved carefully, then
dressed in his customary black, unrelieved by any color. Despite his vow and
the Swan’s commitment, he would not flaunt his tartan in the Sassenachs’ faces
unless ’twas crucial.
    Suddenly it was noon, the appointed time for the ceremony,
but his bride had not arrived. Kieran paced back and forth outside the kirk,
wondering at his unusual tension. Surely Lydia wouldn’t cry off! He had not
mistaken her passionate response to him in the Menhardie garden. But she was a
Sassenach, a