18
Lydia giggled as she watched Isla stand on the small platform in the dressmaker’s shop on the Royal Mile street in Edinburgh. Isla looked like a giant doll with her hair curled in long ringlets and her new dress on.
“Hold still, darling,” Lydia said when Isla started to fidget. “Just a few more minutes, all right?”
Isla let out a long-suffering sigh, which made Brodie and Rafe laugh. The two gentlemen were somewhat uncomfortable in so feminine a shop, but they were bearing up well by letting little Isla amuse them with her antics.
The dressmaker knelt at Isla’s feet, a set of pins in her mouth as she adjusted the hem of the pretty lilac gown Isla wore.
“Mrs. Giles, will you have the gowns for my daughter and other items ready by this afternoon?” Lydia inquired. It had been a tad ea
