Her Scottish Keep (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 1)

by Darci Balogh

  "Did you know she was a virgin?" He asked, his eyes twinkling just a little bit.

  The question surprised her and she couldn't remember what she was about to say. This way he had of rendering her mute just by looking at her was infuriating.

  "What?"

  "Artemis was a virgin. I guess maybe she was too scary for most men." Shaun shifted his gaze from Tawnyetta to the face of the statue.

  Tawnyetta scoffed, "Yeah, well, most men are wimps."

  He tilted his head and gave her a small nod of agreement. "Indeed."

  She wanted to tell him that many men were also cheating creeps who got engaged to one woman and then went after whoever else happened to be around. She opened her mouth to say just that when he spoke again.

  "She was also the goddess of childbirth, which I always thought was a wee bit of a strange combination. Don't you?"

  Once again his words jarred her enough that she forgot the tirade she was about to unleash on him. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips.

  "I don't know." She hoped her irritation about the subject was clear.

  "I just never saw the connection." He turned his attention back to the fierce expression on Artemis' face. "Virginity, hunting, and childbirth. They just don't seem like they go together."

  "Maybe you just don't like the idea of a strong woman, or the idea of raising a family," Tawnyetta said, arching her brow.

  "Do you think that's what it is?" He rolled the thought around as he let his eyes wander over the statue. "I don't think so." He looked at Tawnyetta, then back to Artemis, then back to Tawnyetta again. "I've always thought this statue was beautiful."

  The word 'cheeky' came to mind. She had been listening to too many British and Scottish people in the last few days. His attitude was definitely cheeky, but the word didn't quite cover the insolence.

  "Are you excited for the ball tomorrow night?" he asked. Once again directing her thoughts into a totally new direction.

  The hackles rose on her neck. For someone who was a member of the staff, and engaged to be married to someone else, he certainly was forward. She wasn't necessarily all about sticking to convention, but his confidence in this conversation seemed like it overstepped a line.

  "I am going to the ball. I've been invited as a guest of the castle," she answered haughtily. Maybe if she pointed out her place he would realize that he was perilously close to being so unprofessional that his job could be in jeopardy.

  "Of course. I'm glad to hear it."

  "I've brought your drink." A voice sounded from the other side of the room. A woman's voice this time. Tawnyetta and Shaun turned at the sound. It was Anne.

  Tawnyetta felt a blush rush into her cheeks. Anne had caught them in a conversation that was a little too comfortable for a gardener and a guest. To her credit, Anne seemed unperturbed. She held a tray with a tall glass of what looked like iced tea.

  When she caught Tawnyetta's eye, she did a small curtsy, "I'm sorry Miss, I didn't know you were in here."

  "Maybe you could get Miss Tawnyetta a drink?" Shaun suggested. He turned back to Tawnyetta. "What would you like?"

  Tawnyetta's mouth dropped open in amazement at the gall of this man. Was he serious? He was ordering his fiancé around like she was his servant? All of the attraction she had previously felt for him swept away on a wave of self-righteousness.

  "I'm not thirsty, thank you," she said icily, hoping he could feel the heat of her glare.

  "Are you sure?" He asked.

  "I am absolutely sure, thank you," Tawnyetta said with growing hostility.

  Anne looked slightly confused. As if she did not know whether she should bring the drink she held to Shaun or go get Tawnyetta a drink of her own. Tawnyetta thought that maybe Anne should throw the drink into Shaun's face and break up with him. But that didn't happen.

  "You can leave mine there," Shaun said indicating a side table. His impersonal attitude toward his fiancé was so brutal that it hurt Tawnyetta's heart to see Anne's reaction. Anne nodded and smiled and set the drink down. "Thank you, Anne," he said as Anne removed herself from the room.

  Tawnyetta's mind was no longer foggy. She knew exactly what she needed to say. "I can't believe you just did that!" she said, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

  Shaun looked around the room in confusion. As if he could see the problem with his eyes.

  Not finding anything, he looked back at her and asked, "What did I do?"

  "I think you know exactly what you did," Tawnyetta sneered. "And I am not taking part in any of it. You can forget about that!"

  Confusion clouded his face.

  Outside the parlor windows the delivery van pulled in front of the castle. Tawnyetta heard Bridget calling to her from the Great Hall to come and see their dresses. Happy for an excuse to leave the presence of such a total chauvinist pig, Tawnyetta pushed past him and hurried out the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  The ball took place the very next day.

  Tawnyetta did not see Shaun again after the episode in the blue parlor. That was fine with her. She did, however, see Anne. In fact, Anne and her mirror image, Erin, were responsible for helping Bridget and Tawnyetta get dressed for the ball.

  Tawnyetta didn't feel close enough to Anne to tell her about her fiancé's actions. She was completely uncomfortable being pampered by the blissfully ignorant maid. She tried to make up for it by treating the young woman with great kindness and affection, showering her with praise and thanking her graciously for every little assistance.

  Bridget was radiant. She loved dressing up. After the disappointment of her wedding, having this event where she could pretend she was a princess and be the belle of the ball put life into her eyes. It warmed Tawnyetta's heart to see it. She decided to put all of the ugliness with Shaun aside and focus on the night ahead of them. Tonight would be wonderful. Tonight they would live like royalty. Tonight they would finally meet Laird Michael. And who knew? Maybe Bridget would fall in love with someone a thousand times better than cheating Christopher.

  The schedule for the evening required the castle guests to arrive at Stag Hall at 6:30 pm for dinner. It was a formal dinner and part of the ball, so they were expected to be dressed for the evening. At 8:00 pm dinner would be complete and the castle guests would join Laird Michael and the other guests he had invited in the main ballroom.

  To be ready for a ball by 6:30 p.m., Bridget and Tawnyetta decided they needed to start immediately after lunch.

  They took turns soaking in the luxurious bathtub. They washed their hair with fragrant shampoo and smoothed thick creams and rich lotions over their skin. Their gowns had been fitted to them perfectly the day before and waited under heavy plastic protectors on a rolling hanger that had been moved into their room.

  They pulled on their finest bras, undies, and stockings then draped the luxurious robes provided by the castle over them to start the next wave of preparations. Since they had already had manicures and pedicures the only thing remaining was their makeup and hair. But before they got started on that task Anne brought them a fruit and cheese plate with some tea as refreshment.

  "I have some items for your hair, combs and pins and such," she told them as she placed the tea tray down on a serving table. "Laird Michael told me to gather the items from his mother's collection for you ladies to use if you desire."

  "Thank you, Anne," Tawnyetta said while looking the maid directly in the eye. "We really, really appreciate that."

  "I'll send your thanks to Laird Michael, Miss," Ann responded with a curtsy. "I'll bring the collection with me when Erin and I come back to do your hair."

  After Anne left, Bridget turned to Tawnyetta. "Are you feeling guilty or something?"

  "No, why?" Tawnyetta popped a red grape into her mouth.

  Bridget gave her friend a knowing look. "You're being extra friendly."

  "Friendly's not bad, is it?"

  "I guess not." Bridget poured the tea while eyeing Tawnyetta.

  Wanting t
o change the subject, Tawnyetta brought up a tidbit she knew Bridget could not ignore. "Have you decided which lipstick you're going to wear tonight?"

  Bridget's eyes sparkled with delight. The distraction worked like a charm.

  After they had applied their makeup with the utmost care, they complimented each other's looks. Each of them had done up their eyes with some extra drama and had new shades of lipstick for the evening. Bridget had chosen a deep pink that complemented her blonde, blue-eyed complexion and her pale pink dress. Tawnyetta had opted for a medium coral. With her amber eyes and the green in her dress she thought it added enough color without clashing.

  Anne and Erin arrived, bringing with them a wide, shallow box with a heavy wooden lid inlaid with silver. Inside the box was a plush, red velvet interior where bejeweled hair combs, hair pins, barrettes and hair bands were carefully placed. Anne informed them that the items were from the personal collection of the late Lady MacBrody. Tawnyetta was stunned at how beautiful they were.

  "How kind of Laird MacBrody to let us borrow these," Tawnyetta said. She picked up a set of hair pins that sparkled with diamonds and dark blue sapphires.

  "He's very generous that way," Anne said proudly. It was clear she had a lot of respect for her employer. Tawnyetta felt a twinge of sadness for her again. If only Anne could see the truth in her fiancé and perhaps seek out someone more kind and generous like Laird Michael who she admired so much.

  "Oh, Tawny," Bridget exclaimed, reaching for two large hair combs. "These would be gorgeous on you."

  The combs shone silver and were encrusted with jewels. Diamonds and Peridot, a pale, almost lime green colored stone, shone as if they were lit from the inside.

  "Those would look perfect with your dress," Anne said. "If you don't mind me saying so."

  Tawnyetta watched in the mirror as Anne and Erin worked magic on her short, spunky locks. They used hairspray and pins, adding the gorgeous Peridot combs, sweeping her hair up and giving it extra body. Their skill made it look like Tawnyetta had longer hair than she truly did and showed off the elegant lines of her neck and shoulders.

  They went to work on Bridget until her long, blonde hair was a resplendent pile of curls sitting high on her head. When their hair was perfect, the maids helped them carefully into their dresses and then their shoes. Once they were completely dressed, Anne and Erin stood on their toes to drape the necklaces from the jeweler around their necks.

  Bridget had chosen a lacy diamond collar that stretched from the middle of her neck down to her collarbones. Tawnyetta had chosen a simpler, solid diamond encrusted necklace in a circle shape that held a huge diamond teardrop pendant in the center. The matching triple teardrop earrings fell gracefully along her bare neck.

  When they were finally ready and stood looking into the full-length mirror, it was quite astonishing how regal they both looked.

  "My goodness," Bridget smiled at their reflection. "We clean up nice, don't we?" She took Tawnyetta's elbow in her arm.

  "Let's go to a ball," Tawnyetta said.

  They made their way down the spiral staircase from the castle keep to Stag Hall. Inside they found the Prescotts donned in their finest. The table was set with glittering white china, silver and crystal.

  The Prescott men all wore tuxedos in the same droopy, unassuming manner that they wore their normal clothes. Still, Tawnyetta had to admit that they looked nice. Bea was beautiful in her brand new golden gown. Her hair had been done up as well and her sapphire and diamond necklace that she'd chosen at the jewelry store sparkled around her neck. Tabitha wore a mint green gown that completely washed any color she did have out of her face. The resulting chartreuse pallor of her skin gave her the appearance of someone who was mildly ill. Mrs. Prescott wore a light mauve gown that was cut well and obviously well made. But beyond being functional as a formal gown, it lacked a certain romance and gave her the air of an out of date duchess.

  As they stood in the entryway to Stag Hall, a picture of flowing pink and green, Tawnyetta felt Bridget's hand tighten around her arm. She glanced over and saw not only excitement in Bridget's eyes, but a hint of anxiety as well. It made sense. Bridget had suffered recent public humiliation at her last formal affair–her wedding. Being all dressed up and on display again might cause her some trepidation.

  Tawnyetta put her hand over Bridget's hand and gave her an encouraging smile. "Shall we?" she asked. Bridget nodded, her crown of curls bobbing up and down as she did. Then they entered the room.

  Stewart, looking crisper than ever, stood like a gentry staring somewhere into the space near them, but not directly at them, waiting to move until he was needed. Beautiful violin music pumped into the room. Or that's what she thought at first. Scanning the room, Tawnyetta was pleasantly surprised to see a live violinist in the corner of the hall playing a light, beautiful tune.

  "You two look positively scrumptious," Bea said as she came to them, all sparkly and smiling.

  Bridget reached out to her and took her hand. "You too, Bea. You look divine."

  They proceeded to the table where they were seated by servers Tawnyetta did not recognize. Several more young men stood straight as rods against the walls of the dining hall. They were dressed in starched black, grey, and white livery that almost matched Stewart's butler uniform, but not quite.

  When Tawnyetta sat at her place she had to take a few moments to think back to the etiquette she'd learned during her middle class upbringing in the suburbs of Denver. Not too surprising, there hadn't been much. Several plates of the thinnest, whitest china she'd ever seen were stacked delicately in front of her and topped with a small porcelain crock pot complete with an elegant lid shaped like the head of a deer. There was a heavy crystal goblet full of water and three additional wine glasses of varying sizes. If that didn't intimidate her, she counted three knives, three forks and five spoons at her place setting–five!

  Tawnyetta was no longer worried about Bridget's anxiety, because she was busy trying to suppress the butterflies in her own stomach. What had her Aunt Jeannie always said? Start with the silverware on the outside and work your way in? That's what she would have to do and hope for the best.

  As soon as they started the first course Tawnyetta lost track of her concerns about using the correct silverware. Eight of the servers, one per guest at the table, approached them so silently that when a white gloved hand appeared to whisk the deer head lid off of her dish, Tawnyetta jumped a little in her chair. Bridget let out a little squeal that she managed to disguise as a hiccup. Still, they could barely contain their giggles.

  Inside the exposed dish was a pale orange soup, thick and surprisingly toasty warm despite having been sitting on the table for more than a few minutes while they were seated. Tawnyetta dipped into the first course with what she was fairly confident was the soup spoon and took a bite. Shallots, potato, cream, carrots and thyme. Delicious.

  "I hear Claymore Castle has procured a Michelin starred chef for special events," Mr. Prescott announced to the table.

  "Mmhmm," Mrs. Prescott agreed, eagerly swallowing her first spoonful. "This is very good. I wonder who the chef is?"

  Tawnyetta found it a little insulting for hard working, fun-loving Doreen, the cook, that she wasn't getting credit for the soup. It wasn't impossible to believe that Doreen could have cooked up such a wonderful dish, but Tawnyetta didn't want to argue. She wanted to eat her soup before it got cold.

  Once they all finished the first course the eight servers approached the table and removed the top plate that held the soup dish from the stack of plates in front of them. The servers then disappeared from the room soundlessly. In less than a minute they returned, each balancing a single dish on their upturned gloved fingertips. They positioned themselves just behind and out of sight of each guest, one server per every seated diner. On an unseen cue they all leaned forward and slipped the next course in front of the guests like some coordinated dance move. Tawnyetta almost laughed out loud at the formality of it all. She
caught herself before that happened, however, and instead shared an astonished look with Bridget.

  By the time their dinner was only halfway done, Tawnyetta was too full to eat another bite. She had lost count after the fourth course, but thought they may have had eight full courses before a fruit and cheese plate was offered. She could only nibble at the delectable items put in front of her. The food was wonderful, but rich, and more than she was used to eating at one time. Besides, she didn't want to get too full before the ball even started.

  "Dessert will be served in the ballroom," Stewart announced.

  It was time to go.

  Tawnyetta's hands were sweaty and damp. She used her cloth napkin to dry them before placing it in what she hoped was an elegant looking pile next to her empty wine glass.

  She leaned closer to Bridget and whispered, "I'm so nervous."

  "I am, too. But it's exciting, isn't it?" Bridget responded in a low voice. "It's a real ball in a real castle. It's like we're Cinderella...times two! Plus we get to meet Laird Michael–and maybe dance with him!" Her face flushed pink.

  The servers stood at the backs of their chairs and pulled them out so they could stand gracefully.

  "Absolutely delicious meal," Mr. Prescott said to the room.

  Mrs. Prescott perked up at the comment. "May we inquire as to the name of the Michelin chef who provided this fine cuisine?" The question was directed at Stewart.

  Stewart lowered his head in a partial bow. "Of course, ma'am. The chef Laird Michael procured for this evening is Mrs. Marjorie Marston."

  'Oohs' and 'Aahs' came from all of the Prescotts, but Tawnyetta didn't believe for one second that any of them knew who Marjorie Marston was before Stewart said her name. Especially Mrs. Prescott. She just liked to pretend she knew all of the best people.

  As they left the table and were ushered out of Stag Hall and toward the Great Hall, Bridget and Tawnyetta walked arm-in-arm. It helped Tawnyetta's nerves to move around a little bit.