When the two women had appeared at her side at the table announcing ’twas time for the bedding, Iliana had stilled, panic rising up in her. In an attempt to delay, she had claimed that she was still thirsty, but Duncan’s sister and her tiny cousin had not even seemed to hear the excuse. Grabbing her arms, they had tugged her from her seat and headed for the stairs, dragging her protesting form behind.

Once in the room, the door had been slammed shut and the little one had started to ransack her chests, while Seonaid had concentrated her attention on “helping” Iliana out of her gown…. Completely uncaring of the fact that Iliana did not wish her “help!”

A gasp drew her exasperated struggles to a halt and Iliana glanced toward the smaller woman as Aelfread slowly raised a sheer white tunic from one of the chests. Something squeezed tight around Iliana’s heart as she peered at that gown. Her mother had had it made special for her and presented it to Iliana to put in her chest for her wedding night. At the time, they had both thought it perfect for a first night for husband and bride. But then, they had thought she would at least like the man she would marry. They had never imagined circumstances like this.

Her teeth clamping together with a snap, Iliana glanced furiously toward Ebba, who had been cowering uselessly in the corner of the room since their arrival. “That will not do. Ebba, fetch my cream gown.”

The maid hesitated, then moved cautiously forward, sorting through the clothes Aelfread had strewn on the floor until she came across the thick, warm gown in question. One that left everything to the imagination.

Lady Seonaid, of course, ignored her wishes in this as well. “Nay, ye’ll wear the white gown,” she announced, continuing to tug Iliana’s clothes from her body. “Bring it here, Aelfread.”

“I said I would wear the cream-colored one,” Iliana snapped sharply as the shorter of her tormentors moved forward.

“The white one is nicer.”

“I like the cream one better.”

“My brother will like the white one.”

“I do not care what your brother—” Iliana cut her own words off as Lady Seonaid went still. Had she offended her? Angering the Amazon who towered over her was something Iliana was not quite brave enough to do. Iliana was a little above average height at five-foot-six, but Lady Seonaid was a good five inches taller and quite a bit stronger. She also seemed the rough-and-tumble type. A barbarian—like the rest of these people—Iliana thought irritably, then frowned when Seonaid continued to simply stare at her.

“What is it?” she asked stiltedly when the silence became unbearable.

“You…” Seonaid gestured helplessly unable to say that ’twas the other woman’s figure that had her attention. ’Twas the type of figure she herself had longed for as a teen, all soft curves and plains.