FIONA STOOD UPON a stool in a borro

FIONA STOOD UPON a stool in a borrowed chemise, her arms stretched out on either side. Vivienne was there, and Ruby too, along with the seamstress. Bolts of fabric were strewn all about the place, with trims and ribbons and strips of ermine and fox scattered over the bed, as if a milliner’s shop had suffered a windstorm in this very spot. And if indeed a windstorm could be captured and possessed, it would dwell inside Vivienne.
She was a dervish, twirling the sumptuous cloths around Fiona, giggling with delight over suggestions made by the seamstress.
“I think the gold, with a burgundy kirtle beneath, don’t you agree? Your hair will look stunning next to the gold.” Vivienne’s smooth cheeks were pinked by enthusiasm.
“Oh, so lovely,” Ruby breathed, pressing both hands against her own ruddy cheeks.
“And you’ve a fine figure.” The seamstress nodded.
Fiona was breathless from the gluttony of it. So many silks and satins and brocades. There were velvets and linens and furs. Vivienne insisted she needed a dress for every event. Gowns for riding, for walking, for morning and afternoon. And of course, there were the gowns for special occasions, such as visits with the other nobility, and even the king.
“Surely I’ll not be meeting the king,” Fiona protested.
Vivienne’s finely arched browed furrowed. “But of course you will. One day soon, we’ll visit Linlithgow or Falkland Palace. You’ll meet him then.”
Fiona felt blood pooling to her feet, leaving her woozy at the thought of being face-to-face with that ruthless sovereign. What words might she spit in his face if given the chance? But just as quickly, Marietta’s words of warning sounded in her memory. Rein in that unpredictable nature.
That was as unlikely as the possibility of Fiona ever being allowed within earshot of Scotland’s ruler. Vivienne was misguided in her optimism.
“I think we’ve chosen enough dresses. As it is, I cannot imagine wearing them all,” Fiona said.
Vivienne looked over the piles of fabric. “These aren’t so very many. But fine, if you grow weary, we need only choose your bedclothes and we’ll be finished.” She picked up a bolt of white linen so sheer it looked like frost upon a windowpane. “This should do nicely. Take off that chemise and let’s see it against your skin.”
Fiona blanched. She’d do no such thing. Take off her chemise, indeed. She clutched it close to her chest.
Vivienne laughed at her modesty. “Oh, come now. We’re all women here. We’ve got the same bits as you.”
“Aye, though mine have sunk a good deal lower,” added the seamstress, chuckling.
“Mine are a good deal more plump,” Ruby giggled. “But my husband loves a fine cushion.”
The others laughed, while Fiona felt her cheeks grow hot. In fact, she felt hot all over. The idea of Myles thinking anything of the like was embarrassing. She should shoo Vivienne and Ruby from the room and choose the most opaque fabric of the lot. Perhaps a somber gray to dissuade her husband’s interest. Although his interest seemed to have dissipated through no effort of her own.
“Oh, girls, we’ve made our maiden bride blush,” Vivienne teased, which only infused more heat into Fiona’s tingling skin.
“I don’t need any such impractical nightgowns. Just something serviceable.”
Vivienne’s laughter filled the air, with Ruby and the seamstress’s quick to follow. “Serviceable? That sounds as enticing as a case of the pox. Of course you need something impractical. A flimsy little something, thin as a spider’s web that tears away just as easily.”
Ruby and the seamstress both nodded emphatically.
Fiona gripped the chemise more tightly. “Tears away? What good is a shift such as that?”
Vivienne doubled over in her laughter. “My goodness, what a lot my nephew has to teach you. Are you a virgin, still?”
What a rude, invasive question. Fiona scowled. “I assure you, I am quite thoroughly married.”
“Then shame on Myles if he’s left you to wonder about the joy of impractical nightgowns. Although, you have been traveling, and you can’t do much rending of things when you’re on the road. And I suppose last night he sat vigil with his father, but once Cedric is on the mend and Myles is not so distracted, I do hope you obtain a different view on the matter.”
This was quite enough. Vivienne had proven kind, but this went far and beyond any business of hers. Fiona would not stand there, naked before them, while the seamstress draped her in fabric so sheer that mist from the loch would serve as better cover.
Vivienne smiled again. “Oh, Fiona. I don’t mean to tease. You’re so beautiful you could be clad in sackcloth and he’d want you still. I saw the way he looked at you this morning. But there’s no shame in adding a little sweetness to the pot, is there?”
Fiona’s mind turned to fuzz. The way he’d looked at her this morning? She’d averted her gaze when he’d come into the room, and when she’d finally met his eyes, he’d looked nothing save annoyed. Vivienne was making sport of her once more.
“He looked at me in no such manner. And I wouldn’t want him to.” Avoiding his attentions was her goal, not beckoning them.
Vivienne crossed one arm over the other. She raised one fisted hand and rested her chin upon it as she perused Fiona. After a moment, she said, “Can you best him with a sword?”
“What?”
“On the field or in the yard, could you beat him with a sword?”
What riddle is this? “No, of course not. He’s far too strong.”
“Could you outdrink him? Until he’s passed out on the rushes?”
Fiona felt the tremors of a smile tapping at her lips. “’Tis unlikely.”
“Mm-hm.” Vivienne began to pace in the small space in front of Fiona. “And what of strategy? ’Tis clear you cannot evade him in the woods. But could you outwit him in a game of chess, perhaps?”
Chess had never been Fiona’s forte. She was ever too impatient to master its nuances. “I fail to see what chess has to do with my choice of nightdress.”
“This is your battleground, Fiona.” Vivienne’s hands swept round the room and ended by pointing at the bed. Myles’s bed. “This is where you best him. This is where you sway him to obey your whims. If you hope to ever take an upper hand with Myles, this is where that begins. Make him want you, and soon enough, he’ll jump to do your bidding at every turn.”
Fiona crossed her own arms. “You mean seduce him to obtain what I want?”
“Exactly.”
“But what if what I want is for him to leave me alone?”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “You want more than that. I’m certain of it. And to win the war, you must start with tiny victories. Remember, men are like their horses.”
“Big and sweaty and fun to ride?” Ruby chimed in.
Vivienne smiled at the maid. “Yes. But in addition to that, they are drawn to whomever dangles the most enticing carrot.”
Fiona frowned. “Didn’t you say your husband was faithless?”
Vivienne’s shrug was nonchalant. “Yes, but my husband was an idiot, and I had long since put away my carrots. Myles is another type of man altogether. And he wants you, Fiona. I saw it in his eyes. Use that, and you’ll both be better off.”
This put a wrinkle in her plans. Seduction. The very thought of it panicked her. She had no comely wiles to trap a man. She had nothing but a sharp tongue and a tenacious disregard for his family. She’d never trick him into compliance, no matter how diaphanous the gown. And even if she could, what good would it do her? She had sealed the truce. She was here. All she wanted now was to keep her family safe and for him to let her be.
“Take the pretty nightgowns, Fiona,” Vivienne said softly. “Leave them in a chest, if you’ve a mind to, but some evening, you may have need to put one on. When you’re ready, they’ll be waiting.”
Lord, the woman could tempt a sinner into church the way she prodded. Those Campbell traits of persuasion and persistence must have rubbed off.
“Fine,” Fiona said at last. “But I only need one cut from that transparent bit of nothingness. Make the rest of sturdy linen.”
“Make her three of the sheer,” Vivienne instructed the seamstress. “And two of the linen. And add some ribbons and pearls.”
Fiona looked to the ceiling and shook her head. “’Tis another frivolous waste. Pearls, indeed.”
“Hush up, Fiona. By God, you are unruly.” The words might scold but for the laughter in her voice. “My nephew deserves such a wife as you.”
Fiona flushed once more, heady from the statement though not sure why. “Unruly?”
“Aye. One who will put him through his paces. Thank God he did not marry that simpering Odette.”
A dizzy sort of tremble ran through her. “Odette?”
The seamstress and Ruby began unrolling the sheer material, though Fiona kept her chemise firmly in place.
“Aye. She had her hooks sunk deep, but marriage to her would have bored my nephew silly. Pouty little French thing. She’d never last a winter. She’d drop over dead as sure as the king’s first wife.”
“Were they betrothed? Myles and Odette?”
Vivienne shook her head and stepped closer to push up the hem of Fiona’s shift.
Distracted as she was by the thought of some woman in love with her husband, Fiona raised her arms and soon was stripped bare. Ruby winked at the seamstress, and they spun the pale-white linen around her torso.
Stepping back, Vivienne answered, “They were not formally betrothed, for Myles has always been betrothed to you. Since the day you were born. He meant to seek James’s permission, though. Of course, Cedric would have none of that.”
“Why?”
For the first time since they’d met, Vivienne fell silent. She looked away and fumbled with some ribbon. After a moment, she shrugged and turned back to Fiona with the brightest of smiles. “Oh, who knows why men do any of the things they do?” She took one step farther back and tilted her dark, glossy head. “Oh, my Fiona. You are a temptress. If I were a man, I’d bed you myself.”
Fiona’s gasp of surprise quickly turned to laughter.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

FIONA berdiri atas bangku di kamisol meminjam, lengannya berbaring di kedua sisi. Vivienne berada di sana, dan Ruby juga, bersama dengan penjahit. Baut kain berserakan semua tempat, trims pita dan strip cerpelai dan fox tersebar di tempat tidur, seolah-olah pembuat topi topi toko telah mengalami angin ribut ini tempat. Dan jika memang angin ribut bisa ditangkap dan dimiliki, itu akan tinggal di dalam Vivienne.Dia adalah Darwis, memutar-mutar kain mewah di Fiona, cekikikan dengan gembira atas saran yang dibuat oleh penjahit."Saya pikir emas, dengan rok burgundy bawah, jangan Anda setuju? Rambut Anda akan terlihat menakjubkan di emas." Vivienne di pipi halus yang pinked oleh antusiasme."Oh, begitu cantik," Ruby bernapas, menekan kedua tangan terhadap pipinya kemerahan."Dan Anda sudah sosok yang baik-baik saja." Penjahit mengangguk.Fiona pada terengah-engah dari kerakusan itu. Begitu banyak sutra dan satins dan brokat. Ada beludru dan linen dan bulu. Vivienne bersikeras dia membutuhkan gaun untuk setiap acara. Gaun untuk Berkuda, untuk berjalan, untuk pagi dan sore hari. Dan tentu saja, ada gaun untuk acara-acara khusus, seperti kunjungan dengan bangsawan lainnya, dan bahkan raja."Pasti aku akan tidak bertemu raja," protes Fiona.Vivienne halus yang melengkung browed berkerut. "Tapi tentu saja Anda akan. Suatu hari nanti, kita akan mengunjungi Linlithgow atau Falkland Palace. Anda akan bertemu Dia kemudian."Fiona merasa darah penggabungan kakinya, meninggalkan dia pusing memikirkan menjadi tatap muka dengan penguasa yang kejam. Apa kata-kata mungkin ia meludahi mukanya jika diberi kesempatan? Tapi hanya sebagai cepat, Marietta's kata peringatan terdengar dalam ingatannya. Mengendalikan alam yang tak terduga.Itu adalah sebagai mungkin sebagai kemungkinan Fiona pernah diizinkan dalam pendengaran penguasa Skotlandia. Vivienne sesat dalam optimisme nya."Saya pikir kami telah memilih gaun cukup. Seperti itu, aku tidak bisa membayangkan memakai mereka semua,"kata Fiona.Vivienne menoleh ke tumpukan kain. "Ini bukan begitu sangat banyak. Tetapi, jika Anda tumbuh lelah, kita hanya perlu memilih seprai Anda dan kami akan selesai." Dia mengambil baut dari linen putih jadi semata-mata itu tampak seperti embun beku berdasarkan windowpane. "Ini harus dilakukan dengan baik. Kamisol itu lepas landas dan mari kita lihat terhadap kulit Anda."Fiona pucat. Dia akan melakukan hal seperti itu. Lepas landas kamisol nya, memang. Ia mencengkeram dekat dadanya.Vivienne tertawa di kerendahan hatinya. "Oh, datang sekarang. Kami akan semua perempuan di sini. Kami punya bit yang sama seperti Anda.""Aye, meskipun saya telah tenggelam bagus menurunkan," ditambahkan penjahit, tertawa."Saya banyak lebih gemuk," Ruby terkikik. "Tapi suami saya mencintai bantal baik."Yang lain tertawa, sementara Fiona merasa pipinya tumbuh panas. Bahkan, dia merasa panas seluruh. Ide Myles berpikir apa-apa seperti adalah memalukan. Dia harus mengusir Vivienne dan Ruby dari ruang dan memilih kain yang paling buram Lot. Mungkin muram abu-abu untuk menghalangi suaminya bunga. Walaupun minat tampaknya memiliki dihamburkan melalui tidak ada usaha sendiri."Oh, gadis, kami telah membuat kami gadis Pengantin memerah," Vivienne menggoda, yang hanya diresapi lebih panas ke dariotto kesemutan kulit."Aku tidak membutuhkan baju tidur setiap tersebut tidak praktis. Hanya sesuatu diservis."Vivienne di tawa memenuhi udara, dengan Ruby dan penjahit di cepat mengikuti. "Diservis? Kedengarannya menarik sebagai kasus cacar. Tentu saja Anda perlu sesuatu yang praktis. Tipis sedikit sesuatu, tipis sebagai web seekor laba-laba yang matanya dengan mudah."Ruby dan penjahit keduanya mengangguk tegas.Fiona mencengkeram kamisol lebih erat. "Matanya? Apa yang baik adalah pergeseran seperti itu?"Vivienne kali lipat dalam tawa nya. "Ya ampun, apa banyak keponakan saya telah mengajarkan Anda. Apakah Anda seorang perawan, masih?"Apa sebuah kasar, invasif pertanyaan. Fiona merengut. "Saya meyakinkan Anda, saya cukup benar-benar menikah."“Then shame on Myles if he’s left you to wonder about the joy of impractical nightgowns. Although, you have been traveling, and you can’t do much rending of things when you’re on the road. And I suppose last night he sat vigil with his father, but once Cedric is on the mend and Myles is not so distracted, I do hope you obtain a different view on the matter.”This was quite enough. Vivienne had proven kind, but this went far and beyond any business of hers. Fiona would not stand there, naked before them, while the seamstress draped her in fabric so sheer that mist from the loch would serve as better cover.Vivienne smiled again. “Oh, Fiona. I don’t mean to tease. You’re so beautiful you could be clad in sackcloth and he’d want you still. I saw the way he looked at you this morning. But there’s no shame in adding a little sweetness to the pot, is there?”Fiona’s mind turned to fuzz. The way he’d looked at her this morning? She’d averted her gaze when he’d come into the room, and when she’d finally met his eyes, he’d looked nothing save annoyed. Vivienne was making sport of her once more.“He looked at me in no such manner. And I wouldn’t want him to.” Avoiding his attentions was her goal, not beckoning them.Vivienne crossed one arm over the other. She raised one fisted hand and rested her chin upon it as she perused Fiona. After a moment, she said, “Can you best him with a sword?”“What?”“On the field or in the yard, could you beat him with a sword?”What riddle is this? “No, of course not. He’s far too strong.”“Could you outdrink him? Until he’s passed out on the rushes?”Fiona felt the tremors of a smile tapping at her lips. “’Tis unlikely.”“Mm-hm.” Vivienne began to pace in the small space in front of Fiona. “And what of strategy? ’Tis clear you cannot evade him in the woods. But could you outwit him in a game of chess, perhaps?”Chess had never been Fiona’s forte. She was ever too impatient to master its nuances. “I fail to see what chess has to do with my choice of nightdress.”“This is your battleground, Fiona.” Vivienne’s hands swept round the room and ended by pointing at the bed. Myles’s bed. “This is where you best him. This is where you sway him to obey your whims. If you hope to ever take an upper hand with Myles, this is where that begins. Make him want you, and soon enough, he’ll jump to do your bidding at every turn.”Fiona crossed her own arms. “You mean seduce him to obtain what I want?”“Exactly.”“But what if what I want is for him to leave me alone?”Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “You want more than that. I’m certain of it. And to win the war, you must start with tiny victories. Remember, men are like their horses.”“Big and sweaty and fun to ride?” Ruby chimed in.Vivienne smiled at the maid. “Yes. But in addition to that, they are drawn to whomever dangles the most enticing carrot.”Fiona frowned. “Didn’t you say your husband was faithless?”Vivienne’s shrug was nonchalant. “Yes, but my husband was an idiot, and I had long since put away my carrots. Myles is another type of man altogether. And he wants you, Fiona. I saw it in his eyes. Use that, and you’ll both be better off.”This put a wrinkle in her plans. Seduction. The very thought of it panicked her. She had no comely wiles to trap a man. She had nothing but a sharp tongue and a tenacious disregard for his family. She’d never trick him into compliance, no matter how diaphanous the gown. And even if she could, what good would it do her? She had sealed the truce. She was here. All she wanted now was to keep her family safe and for him to let her be.“Take the pretty nightgowns, Fiona,” Vivienne said softly. “Leave them in a chest, if you’ve a mind to, but some evening, you may have need to put one on. When you’re ready, they’ll be waiting.”Lord, the woman could tempt a sinner into church the way she prodded. Those Campbell traits of persuasion and persistence must have rubbed off.“Fine,” Fiona said at last. “But I only need one cut from that transparent bit of nothingness. Make the rest of sturdy linen.”“Make her three of the sheer,” Vivienne instructed the seamstress. “And two of the linen. And add some ribbons and pearls.”Fiona looked to the ceiling and shook her head. “’Tis another frivolous waste. Pearls, indeed.”“Hush up, Fiona. By God, you are unruly.” The words might scold but for the laughter in her voice. “My nephew deserves such a wife as you.”
Fiona flushed once more, heady from the statement though not sure why. “Unruly?”
“Aye. One who will put him through his paces. Thank God he did not marry that simpering Odette.”
A dizzy sort of tremble ran through her. “Odette?”
The seamstress and Ruby began unrolling the sheer material, though Fiona kept her chemise firmly in place.
“Aye. She had her hooks sunk deep, but marriage to her would have bored my nephew silly. Pouty little French thing. She’d never last a winter. She’d drop over dead as sure as the king’s first wife.”
“Were they betrothed? Myles and Odette?”
Vivienne shook her head and stepped closer to push up the hem of Fiona’s shift.
Distracted as she was by the thought of some woman in love with her husband, Fiona raised her arms and soon was stripped bare. Ruby winked at the seamstress, and they spun the pale-white linen around her torso.
Stepping back, Vivienne answered, “They were not formally betrothed, for Myles has always been betrothed to you. Since the day you were born. He meant to seek James’s permission, though. Of course, Cedric would have none of that.”
“Why?”
For the first time since they’d met, Vivienne fell silent. She looked away and fumbled with some ribbon. After a moment, she shrugged and turned back to Fiona with the brightest of smiles. “Oh, who knows why men do any of the things they do?” She took one step farther back and tilted her dark, glossy head. “Oh, my Fiona. You are a temptress. If I were a man, I’d bed you myself.”
Fiona’s gasp of surprise quickly turned to laughter.