Taken by Angeline Fortin (great books of all time TXT) 📗

grey eyes clearly marking her as another Hepburn sibling, Aileen was taller and slimmer than Aleizia, though not so tall as Scarlett.  Her clothes would be a closer fit, but the girl, either overwhelmed by Aleizia or Scarlett or both, stayed perched on the edge of the bed watching the growing pile with wide eyes.

Scarlett held a gown of vivid blue velvet up in front of her then tossed it away immediately.  No, she would definitely take nothing from Aileen if her first thought on the matter was whether Laird would find her bonnier in blue velvet or green silk.  Besides she was feeling rather guilty about ransacking Aileen’s closest.  “You don’t mind if I borrow a couple of gowns, do you?”

“She doesn’t mind,” Aleizia assured her before Aileen could respond.  So far, she’d emptied more than half the wardrobe with her maid’s help.  “Most of these were made for her trousseau but she’s outgrown them already.  And you’ll need more than a few gowns if you’re to travel with the progress.  They’ll have to be taken down for you, of course, but Piegi here has a fine hand with a needle.”

“Trousseau?”  The word reminded Scarlett of her earlier curiosity.  “How old are you, Aileen?”

“Almost thirteen,” she answered, watching Aleizia as she turned to a trunk and lifted the lid.  Lofty white linen was added atop the colorful pile.

Scarlett shook her head.  No, the reason the gowns didn’t fit now because Aileen was still a young girl who wasn’t yet finished growing.  Just twelve!  Scarlett couldn’t imagine marrying so young, though history attested it happened all the time.  “And you’re engaged to Rhys then?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.  Or Laird?

“Of course not.”  Aileen lifted her head in surprise, then a shy giggle escaped her.  “He’s my brother.”

“Oh.  Then Aleizia is…”

“Patrick’s wife,” the younger girl answered.  “You probably didn’t know that, did you?  They’ve been married for three years.”

Three years?  “How old are you, Aleizia?”

“Sixteen.  Why?”

Scarlett shook her head and Aleizia looked up from the trunk.  “Are you interested in our brother, Scarlett?  In Rhys?  He isn’t married yet.  Neither is Laird.”

“I wasn’t –”

Aleizia lowered her voice confidentially.  “Laird hates being called that.  Did you know that?  He just hates it but Rhys and Patrick – have you met him yet? – they’ve always called him that.  Just to bother him, I suppose.  Because Laird is the oldest and would have been Sir William’s heir if he wasn’t a… er, well, if he weren’t…”

“If he were legitimately born,” Scarlett finished for her.

“Yes.”  The girl’s shoulders dropped and she smiled in relief.  “I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

“Does it matter?”

“To many it does.  Too many really.”

“Not to me,” Aileen said softly.  “I love Laird… James, whatever name he is called by.  He was always an excellent brother to Patrick and Rhys and Adam and Alexander and Arthur –”

“How many brothers and sisters are there?”

“Ten, including Laird, Ayla and Owen.”

Scarlett knew why Laird was singled out but…?  “Ayla and Owen?”

“Sir William’s other bas… recognized illegitimate children,” Aleizia corrected.  “They do not have Laird’s same mother, however.  Ayla’s mother is the countess of Leeth while Owen’s is no more than a milkmaid.”

“Recognized?” Scarlett prompted.

Aleizia shrugged.  “I imagine there are others.”

It was said so indifferently; Scarlett didn’t know how to take it but decided that this Sir William must be something of a man-whore.  Spreading a little love around where ever he went.  That Aleizia could be so casual about it told Scarlett that having a few children outside of his marriage wasn’t too unusual for a man in this time.  Or was it because of Sir William’s position?  As a – what did Rhys call him? – Lord High Chamberlain to the King, perhaps William Hepburn was something of a celebrity himself, and with all the ladies throwing themselves at him, found himself presented with the results from time to time.  Like some groupie saying they’d had Adam Levine’slove child.

No wonder Lady Ishbel was so discourteous.  Not many women would take kindly to their husband bringing the evidence of his infidelity home with him.  Still, she shouldn’t have taken out her resentment on Laird, as if it were all his fault.

“You didn’t say what brought you to Crichton, Scarlett.”

“Oh, nothing really.  Laird and Rhys are just helping me find my way home.”  It was the most honest answer, after all.

“Where do you live?”  Aleizia asked.

“Here, you should try these on.”  Aileen held out a pair of shoes.

“Oh, how pretty,” Scarlett said in honest admiration, thankful for a reprieve from the difficult question.  On a short heel, the shoes were red silk accented at the toes and the top of the curled tongue with what she thought were either real garnets or rubies.  Either way, there were more jewels on those shoes than any pair of feet deserved.

Retail therapy had a place in any time, she decided as the shoes spoke to her, brightening her mood.  And they looked to be about the right size.  “Wow, they’re amazing.  But I couldn’t.  They’re obviously very expensive.”

Aileen shrugged.  “My feet have grown and they pinch now.”  She lowered her voice to a whisper.  “I’d rather you have them than Aleizia.  She has too many already.”

“They are beautiful,” Scarlett said, tempted despite herself.  They were as magnetic as a modern pair of Jimmy Choo’s.   Her toes curled in anticipation.  “They sort of remind of Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers.”

“Who’s Dorothy?”

“Oh, no one really,” Scarlett said as she slipped them on.  “She just a character from a story.”

“A story!”  The girl pounced on the word with the breathless exclamation, a broad smile brightening her solemn face. “I just love stories!  Can you tell it to me? There is a traveling troubadour who comes around from time to time but Father’s regular bard is dreadfully dull without a lick of spirit in his tales.”

Scarlett couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Please?  Do tell us!”  Aleizia dropped onto the bed in a pool of skirts and looked up at Scarlett