It appeared to be just the right size.

“You’re going to wear this to the ball,” Lucy said, “and someone is going to do your hair—I insist—and adorn it with flowers. And then you’re going to wear a beautiful pair of slippers Mr. Glass, the cobbler, is making for you right now.”

“Oh, my.” Daisy could hardly speak. She took a moment to compose herself, then said, “Thank you so much, Lucy. It’s the most wonderful surprise I’ve ever received.”

She folded the gown with care and put it reverently back in the box.

“But I can’t accept.” She bowed her head. “I’m not your goddaughter. Cassandra is.”

Lucy laughed. “You’re both my goddaughters, silly! Didn’t Charlie tell you? He thinks I have only seven. But I have fourteen.”

“Fourteen?” Daisy barely restrained a gasp.

“Yes, indeed.” Lady Pinckney chuckled. “I’m thrilled my little surprise appeals to you. I had it altered a bit, the waist moved up, and a few panels of the skirt removed. It was slightly out of fashion.”

“It was?”

“Oh, yes. This dress belonged to your mother.”

“It did?”

Lucy nodded. “We were very good friends.”

Somehow that idea made no sense to Daisy.

“Let me explain,” said Lucy. “Your father and I were infatuated with each other at one time. But we were far too young and interested in life to want to marry, so you know how it goes … we went our separate ways. Years went by, and I married, but Barney still hadn’t. He had that affair with the actress—you know how that turned out. And then a few months later, he met Catherine, who bowled him over right away. He told me it was a good thing we hadn’t married because what he felt for Catherine was bigger than anything he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t even express how big. I really didn’t mind a bit his saying that because I was desperately in love with Charlie’s Scottish grandfather, and I knew just what Barney meant.”

Daisy inhaled a little breath and blinked, over and over.

Lucy became a big blur.

“Dear? Are you all right?” Lucy hugged her close.

It was several minutes before Daisy could speak. “This is too much,” she eventually whispered against Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m simply happy.”

She closed her eyes and tried to take it all in.

Lucy squeezed her close, and the affectionate touch helped calm Daisy’s jangled nerves.

A moment later, Lucy sighed. “There’s something very serious I must talk to you about. I’m shocked at how bamboozled we all were by Mona all those years ago when she adopted Cassandra. Charlie’s told me she’s been terribly wicked to you. I think after Barney married her and realized her true colors, he was too embarrassed to tell me he’d been so taken in. She needs to leave this place. Immediately.”

Daisy sat up. “I wish she would. But, Lucy, I can’t let Perdita and Cassandra go with her. Perdita might seem awful, but she’s not rotten to the core the way Mona is. I can’t give up on her. Not yet. And Cassandra’s my half sister. She’s come leaps and bounds from what she used to be. I think she’ll be marrying Mr. Beebs, so she’ll be happily settled.”

“You do whatever makes you happy, dear.”

Daisy bit her lip. “I’ve never had anyone say that to me before.”

“Well, get used to it,” Lucy said briskly. “No more living in Mona’s dark shadow. Now will you pull me up? I’m rather stuck beneath this tree!”

Daisy laughed and did just that.

She felt the opposite of stuck—she felt free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

It was time for the ceilidh. Charlie had spent the last two days on a wildly extravagant hunt with his best friends and his sisters’ husbands, as well as some excellent friends he’d made in the glen. In his tramps through chilly burns and over rocky terrain, he’d released all his nervousness about his plans to win Daisy back and surrendered to the elements.

A dose of the Highlands was what he’d needed … it felt right in his very bones that he was still here in Scotland and working to improve the state of his property and the climate of his adopted village of Glen Dewey.

His heart filled with pride in his new home when he sang along with his hunting companions the well-known verse by Robert Burns:


My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;


My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;


Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,


My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.


Every hunter knew he mustn’t force, but lure, his target to him. Tonight, at the ceilidh, Charlie told himself, he would open his heart, and he hoped Daisy would accept it.

And then he would make her his.

Now his friends and family were gathering for the great event in the hall at Castle Vandemere, which wasn’t half as vast as the one at the Keep. But Charlie found it much more inviting, perhaps because he’d asked his sisters and his friends’ wives—Poppy, Molly, and Jilly—to decorate the space for him. They’d hung wreaths and stuffed vases with beautiful flowers and made stunning collections of candles that warmed every corner of the room.

But when the party arrived from Rose Cottage, Daisy wasn’t among them.

“Where is she?” he asked Joe and Hester.

His female guests hovered behind him. All of them couldn’t wait to meet Daisy, who they knew was meant to be his bride—if he could convince her of that fact.

“She’s at Mrs. MacLeod’s, getting her hair done,” said Hester, “and och, she looks so beautiful. Wait until ye see her. Her slippers look like they were made for an angel.”

Grandmother smiled. “Mr. Glass says he never sells them to a woman herself. They must be bought for her by someone who loves her very much. He asks the buyer to describe this special woman, and he listens with his heart. From there, he makes her a unique design.”

“I’ve got on a pair of Mr. Glass’s slippers myself,” said Cassandra, and pointed her toes. “I’ve never found out who chose them for me. They appeared on my bed the night of the last ceilidh.”

All the women from London rushed forward to see them.

“They’re magnificent,” said Poppy. “And so perfect for you.” She flashed a brilliant smile at Cassandra. “I’ll tell Nicholas about them right away.”

“I must have a pair of Glass slippers, too,” exclaimed Molly. “I’ll tell Harry. I wonder what they’ll look like?”

Charlie immediately told his sisters he’d let their husbands know that they must pay a visit to Mr. Glass’s cobbler shop, as well.

Then he leaned over to Cassandra. “Daisy chose them for you,” he told her.

Cassandra drew in her chin. “But we hated each other at that time.”

“I know,” said Charlie. “But she said her papa would approve, and that when she described you to Mr. Glass, she looked at you through your father’s eyes as best she could. So in a way, they’re from him.”

Every woman there got tears in their eyes, Cassandra most of all.

Jilly bit her lip. “They’d be all the rage in London. I’m going to get a pair for my dear friend Otis.”

Cassandra tilted her head. “A man?”

Jilly nodded. “But he’s not just any man. He’ll be able to carry them off. You’ll see. You’ll have to come visit us.”

“Thank you very much for the invitation.” Cassandra smiled. “But I’m a Highland lass now. My heart is here, and here I’ll stay.” Charlie saw her look over at Mr. Beebs, who’d turned out to be not only a very responsible overseer but her hero as well.

When Cassandra disappeared into the crowd, Molly spoke first. “I wonder where Miss Montgomery is?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, and tried not to be nervous.

But it was difficult when he had her ring in his pocket—the one she’d given to Mrs. Gordon to pay for all the villagers’ gowns. He’d bought it back. He wanted to propose to her tonight—

If the moment were right.

He had a long way to go before he’d know.

Another half hour went by. The ceilidh was well under way, and everyone was having a marvelous time.

Or so it seemed. His friends and family seemed on edge, especially Grandmother.

“She’s awfully late,” Grandmother fretted, which was rare for her.

“I know.” Charlie patted her hand. “I can’t help but worry.”

One by one almost everyone from Rose Cottage came up to him and said they wondered what was taking Daisy so long.

“Mrs. MacLeod must have had to start her hair over again,” said Hester.

“Or perhaps her hem fell,” said Cassandra, “and she’s repairing it.”

But then Mayor MacLeod and his wife arrived—without Daisy.

“Where is she?” Charlie asked them.

Mrs. MacLeod gave a little gasp. “Why, I thought she’d have been here by now. She left a good while ago with her mother and Miss Perdita. They happened to come by the hoose while I was fixing her hair. Said they were going late to the ceilidh.”

“Mrs. Montgomery wasn’t even invited to the ceilidh,” said Charlie.

Mrs. MacLeod expelled a worried breath. “That’s what Miss Montgomery told us, but then Mrs. Montgomery took off for Castle Vandemere with Miss Perdita by her side. And Miss Montgomery said she couldn’t let them go alone to wreak havoc among your guests, so she asked me to hurry and pin up the last curl, which I did with all haste. And she went running after them.” She took another breath. “Then old Mrs. Buncombe came over and the mayor had to help her retrieve her stubborn cow from the High Street. By the time we’d finished, they’d disappeared among the rocks and scrubby pines up on the mountain.”