Page 38 of Taming the Highland Beauty

“Nay. I do not wish to make you wait. I will meet you in the great hall.”

At his nod, she entered her bedchamber and shut the door then startled to find a maid waiting for her.

“M’lady said tae wait fer ye here,” the young maid said in a nervous voice.

Wanting to put the girl at ease, Gille offered her a friendly smile. “Thank you for your assistance. I am grateful for your help, especially with my hair.”

The maid giggled, then hid her amusement behind her hand just as Gille stepped before the looking glass. Her face was tinged with ash and her hair was a wild tumble with several leaves sticking out of the unbound length. They had travelled hard on their return, moving through the woodlands and beneath the burnt trees. “Good heavens,” she exclaimed at her own image. “You have your work cut out for you.”

The maid bobbed a curtsy. “It’ll be my pleasure tae see ye in that beautiful dress.”

Gille glanced at the green dress laid on the bed and gasped. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. Where had Gwendolyn found such a thing in so little time? Gille made a mental note to thank her when she next saw her. There was no further time for reflection as the maid stepped forward and began removing Gille’s riding clothes. Then after washing her face and body in a basin at the bedside, the girl changed her into the fresh gown and set about styling her hair.

Half an hour later, Gille glanced once more into the looking glass. Her reflection was almost unrecognisable. The maid had helped her into the shimmering green silk gown with a low neckline that offered a tantalising hint of the creamy flesh beneath, and a diagonally wrapped bodice adorned with intricate embroidery that emphasised her tiny waist. The silken fabric moulded itself to her hips then flowed gracefully to the floor.

Her glossy red hair was swept back off her forehead, almost concealing the white streak, and held in place by an emerald clip, then left to fall artlessly about her shoulders and midway down her back, where it ended in luxurious waves and curls that gleamed brightly in the dancing candlelight. And her eyes, she could not reconcile the change in them as they reflected the colour of her dress. They were neither jade nor emerald, but a startling shade somewhere in between.

In that moment of stunned silence, Gille realised how much she had changed since first coming to Dunvegan. Her cloak would look as foreign on her in the moment as Lottie’s sealskin had looked when she had donned it along the shores of the loch. Yet the sealskin was Lottie’s true nature. Gille’s cloak had been crafted as a disguise, an adaptation she had made to ensure her survival in the wilderness.

Her true nature was not that of a beast, despite Oberon’s spell, but something that had been forced upon her until Callum had helped her break free. Tonight, she had an opportunity to be herself and enjoy what would be a first for her—a big celebration. She smoothed the silken fabric across her hips with a satisfied smile. “Thank you for your help, Mary,” Gille said to the maid.

Mary returned her smile. “I hope ye have a good time, miss. Ye look like a fairy princess, ye do.”

Gille laughed. She was far from a fairy princess, but the MacLeods had certainly made her feel special. Gille dismissed the maid, then moved to the trunk and sorted through her garments there until she found a silk pouch Gwendolyn had lent her and slipped the moonstone inside. With a pin she secured the heavy pouch to the waist of her petticoat. She wanted the stone always on her to make certain it remained safe.

Then, after smoothing her gown back around her hips, she left her chamber and made her way belowstairs, determined to enjoy herself to the fullest despite the endpoint of her curse. It was a possibility she could not ignore. As she reached the doorway of the great hall, she paused and drew a deep breath. Instead of letting nervousness and fear overwhelm her, she would focus on the present moment and enjoy the celebration. For tonight, at least, she would allow herself to be swept away by the magic of Beltane in the presence of the MacLeods.

Soft candlelight bathed the great hall in a warm, intimate glow as Gille entered. The sounds of revelry mixed with the savoury scents of meat and spiced ale. But all of that faded into the background as Gille turned, her heart pounding, and met Callum’s gaze. His dark eyes searched her own with an expression of awe and wonder, and she knew everything had changed.

She was no longer the beast he had known. The transformation had been complete, and she was a woman, standing before him in a gown that felt both foreign and strangely befitting.

Callum came to stand before her. “Gille . . .” he breathed, his voice filled with a reverence that sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes traced the lines of her dress then returned to her face. Admiration lit his eyes.

“You are . . . breathtaking.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips before offering her his arm and guiding her to a seat at the table on the dais where the family was seated.

To Gwendolyn, Gille said, “Thank you for everything you have done for me. This gown is the most beautiful piece of clothing I have ever worn.”

Gwendolyn’s smile was radiant as she gazed upon Gille. “You look lovely. I knew that dress would be perfect on you,” she said as Alastair, Tormod, Orrick, Keiran, and Graeme nodded their approval.

Rowena and Marcus offered smiles of admiration while Fiona, Isolde, and Rosalyn all welcomed her back from the day’s journey.

Aria and Pearl came to stand on either side of Gille, smiling at her with joy in their eyes.

“Sister,” Aria said, “everything is finally starting to go your way, and I could not be more pleased.”

For a heartbeat, Gille tensed, fearing that Aria’s words might tempt fate to start throwing even more obstacles at her again, until she remembered her earlier vow to only focus on the positive tonight.

Pearl leaned in and pressed a kiss to Gille’s cheek.

“I always knew you were a beauty,” her mother said with pride. Then a heartbeat later, joy dimmed more towards regret on her face. “Seeing you happy in this moment, I can finally forgive myself for forgetting all about you while you were banished to the forest,” Pearl said haltingly. “You know I would do anything to remove this curse from you if I could. ’Tis yet another thing that I feel guilty about. I did not protect you from Oberon as I should have.”

Gille squeezed her mother’s hand. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. Oberon made certain no one would remember me, and the fairy king wanted revenge. If not me, he would have found you or Aria.” A lightness came to Gille’s chest. “I am glad he chose me and not either of you.” She truly meant the words.

“You are very forgiving, Daughter.” Pearl’s eyes misted, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I wish there was some way Aria and I could repay you.”

Gille squeezed her mother’s hands again, then released them. “Promise me this, if I do turn into a tree on the morning after Beltane, remember me as I am now, happy and content.”

A second tear joined the first on Pearl’s cheek. “I promise,” she said, then drew Gille into a quick embrace before stepping away. Her mother’s eyes filled with sadness and a tentative hope as she turned to Callum. “Protect her and make certain the curse is broken before . . .”