Jamie, already dressed and fidgeting despite every warning given to her, stood on the little stool near the bed and turned in place so she could admire herself from every possible angle.
“Does it still look bonnie from the back?” she asked.
“It looked bonnie the first five times ye asked,” Caitlin said without taking her eyes off Iona’s sleeve.
Jamie twisted farther. “But does it?”
“Aye,” Iona said, smiling. “Very bonnie.”
That satisfied her daughter for all of half a minute.
The dress Frederick had chosen for her fit beautifully, soft and bright without being too grand for a child. Jamie had been unable to stop touching the skirt since the moment it had been laced. Each time she moved, she did so as though the fabric might vanish if she forgot to feel it there.
Erin watched the child with open amusement. “She is going to tear that hem before supper.”
“Nay, she is nae,” Caitlin said.
“Then she will test the claim so thoroughly that the hem will surrender on principle.”
Jamie gasped. “I wouldnae.”
Ye would, Iona thought, and nearly laughed again.
Her own hands were not steady, though not from fear. But there was no cold weight in her belly. No sharp instinct urging her toward the nearest exit. Only a strange, tender restlessness that had been building all morning, not unlike joy and not entirely unlike disbelief.
This is truly happening.
She had thought the words a dozen times already, and still, they felt unreal.
Caitlin stepped back at last and pressed both hands together with satisfaction. “There. If he does nae look half-struck by the sight of ye, I shall assume him blind.”
“I think he has already established he is nae,” Erin said dryly.
The comment brought warmth to Iona’s face. She looked down, smoothing her palms once over the front of her gown, though there was nothing left to fix.
There came a knock at the door, followed by Lennox’s voice from the other side.
“Me lady mother says if we are all prepared, the hall is ready.”
Caitlin moved to the door at once and opened it just enough to peer out. “And is Frederick where he ought to be?”
“Aye,” Lennox replied.
“Is he behaving?”
There was a pause. “That depends on who is asking.”
Caitlin sighed as though this told her everything she needed to know.
Iona glanced toward Jamie. “Come here, mo chridhe.”
Jamie crossed the room at once, the green grass bracelet Frederick had made for her the day before still looped proudly around her wrist. She held it up every so often to make certain it remained visible, as if the knot itself were a secret only she and he knew how to read.
Iona crouched before her daughter and smoothed a hand gently over her hair. “Are ye ready?”
Jamie nodded with unusual solemnity. “Aye.”
“Truly.”