Aprons For Gayle Ch. 19

"Turn around."

Silently thanking Olivia for providing the dress and to Jessie for predicting Hamish would drool over her, she took a deep breath and started a slow spin. When her back was to him, he ordered her to stand still as he examined his favorite part of a woman, the rear view.

It felt like forever until she felt his huge, soft hands brush against her shoulder blades to the small of her back, and only then did she let out a heavy breath. She felt the cold metal of the sporran against her warm, flushed skin.

"My god, Gayle. You are absolutely fucking exquisite," he whispered into her ear, causing the dreaded goose flesh to expand from her neck to chest.

He then placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around gently. Twirling the curl of her hair through his fingers, she smiled nervously. "Do you think it's too much? I know it's a formal affair, but -"

"No, Gayle, you will not fit in. It's all the other women that will not even come close."

No one had ever paid her such a genuine compliment. "That's nice of you to say, Sir. I have to admit I feel really... beautiful, better than my prom, which really sucked 'cuz I drank a bottle of Zinfindel and made a fool out of myself when I -"

"You talk entirely too much," he snapped.

Abruptly, he threw his arm around her waist, tugged her to him planted a toe-curling, cat-meowing, tongue-wagging, awe-inspiring kiss on her lips. She was taken by such surprise that her hands flew to his chest to push him away... until she felt his soft lips fused with hers. The heat generated between the two in two seconds flat, and they both lost their breath.

A tinge of panic struck her when the thought of Kelsey possibly coming in made her pull back... but he just kissed her harder and ran his hands up her back, his fingernails scraping up to the nape of her neck, though not hard to leave any marks.

"Hmmph, phir." she finally managed to mumble against his lips. "Kelsey."

"Fuck!" he sighed, breaking away. "I'm not happy about this. You may still be mad with me, but how about a quick shag in the pantry?"

"Um, Sir? I don't want my hair all messed -"

He covered her lips with his fingertips. "I don't do quickies anyway, Ms. Boyce. I'd much prefer to have an hour, or two hours, or three..."

"Four hours?" she challenged, straightening his tie. "How about five?"

"Oh, lass! You don't know who you're dealing with. Give me 48 hours, room service and a bottle of whisky, and Ipromise you that you will walk out of the room a changed woman."

"If not changed, then I'll be limping in pain." She chuckled. "And if that's the case, you should maybe speak with Jack about prescribing you some Viagra."

"Ms. Boyce, did you forget your place?" he asked, his voice authoritative but not angry.

Gayle didn't want to stop the fun bantering, even though she was a little shocked at his response. "No Sir. I'm standing right here."

Then he grew very irritated "Two."

"I was just joking. I'll... behave myself."

"Hmm, we'll see about that." Reaching under the waist of his kilt, he pulled out the smallest jewelry box and handed it to her. "Those are to replace those dreadful earrings you are wearing."

Giving him an astonished glare, she exclaimed, "Sir! You just ruined it for me! But you didn't have to get me earrings."

"Just hush and open it."

"Alright, alright." When she saw the diamond studs, she gushed over them. "Oh! They're beautiful and perfect!" Setting the box on the island, she took each out and put them on. "How do they look?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "They're earrings."

Getting on her tip toes, she kissed his cheek then wiped her lipstick off of him. "Thank you, Sir."

"I'm not done yet. Give me your wrist."

She presented her hand as he pulled out the long, narrow box also kept under the kilt waistband. "Oh, goody!" Grabbing the waistband of his kilt, she pulled it forward and peered down into it. "What else are you hiding down here?!"

Trying not to laugh, he replied, "That is for later,if you behave yourself like you say you will."

"Yes Sir! I'll behave myself, Sir! I promise, Sir!"

He shook his head. "I think I'm going to have to purchase a gag for that mouth of yours," he threatened.

Her eyes flew open, then she twisted a forefinger and thumb over her lips and chucked her hand over the shoulder.

"Hallelujah! Silence! Finally!" Bessie barked excitedly as she trotted into the kitchen. "See? Even Bessie is happy! Now close your eyes." Once she did, he pulled out the bracelet, wrapped it around her wrist and snapped it closed. "Open."

Looking directly at her wrist, her mouth flung open as she admired the seven tiny, elegant diamond butterflies adorning the bracelet, each carrying a small pearl on each of their backs.

"Oh, Hamish," she breathed. Looking up at him, she asked, "How did you know..."

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice quietly trembling.

"Oh, Hamish," she repeated and promptly flung her arms around his neck. "You have no idea how much I like it. Thank you. Thank you." Pulling back, she asked, "How did you know about the butterflies? Did you peek at my dress?"

"Shyte! Why the hell didn't I think of that?!" Then he laughed. "Jessie picked it out because, of course, she knew what your dress looked like."

"It doesn't matter," she said as she stepped back, her hand caressing the bracelet. "It really completes the outfit." She paused. "But Sir, this must have cost a fortune."

"Actually, it's on loan, and if you lose it, you must work for me for the next thirty years to reimburse me."

In her mind, thirty years working for Mr. Hamish McDougal didn't sound all that bad, and with the perks, she could possibly work for forty.

Breaking her train of thought, Bessie barked and raced out into the hall. "That's probably Jack and Lilian. Finish up the tray and bring it out to us."

When reality finally hit her, she replied, "Yes Sir. And thanks... for everything."

A few minutes later, Gayle entered the drawing room carefully carrying the platter and saw Jack and his wife sitting on the couch, each holding a glass.

"Gayle!" Kelsey screamed as she approached her and took the platter from her hands. "Ah swear, if ye trip an' faa an' gie aw grottie. Ah will kill ye!"

Gayle didn't know what grottie was, but she had a pretty good idea. "I... um, thanks, Kelsey."

"Hi, Gayle. I'm Lily. It's a pleasure to meet you!" the woman said as she went to Gayle, extending her hand. "Jack told me you were pretty, but that doesn't even come close. You are gorgeous! And that dress! Wow."

Lily was a beautiful woman - tall and slender but with an hour-glass figure, her long, curly blonde hair seemed to go on forever. Her simple full-length, chiffon gown flowed gracefully about her, the light burgundy accentuating her light complexion, giving her face a rosy, natural glow.

Shaking hands, Gayle replied, "It's nice to meet you, too. It's kind of you to say, but I feel like I'm going to change into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight."

"I'm sure Hamish would be happy to bring back your glass slippers." Jack teased.

Gayle was horrified into silence. As far as she knew, Jack only knew she was Hamish's maid, not his submissive or lover, if that was the word for it. There was no way in hell she was ever going to ask Hamish what they talk about.

"Drinks! Who wants drinks?" Hamish nearly screamed.

"Don't mind him," Jack said as he gave Gayle a small, friendly hug. "He hates these galas, but we men have to show off our girls every once in a while."

"Jack Angus Jenkins!" Lily berated her husband.

"Sorry, dear. Women, we love to show off ourwomen," he corrected then gave his wife a peck on her cheek. "I love you, dear."

"Stuff it," she snipped but then chuckled. "Don't mind the boys, Gayle. When they get together it's like a frat party."

"Whisky." Gayle finally found her voice. "I know Hamish wants Whisky. What would everyone else like?"

Surprisingly enough, she was fine with playing hostess; at least all of the attention was off of her for a change. But that didn't last long when Jessie came by to pick up Kelsey.

"Hoo coods ye aw start skitin' withit me?!" she announced as she came into the room from the kitchen.

After they each had a drink and chatted for a bit - wine for the ladies and whisky for the men... and Jessie - Lily said it was getting late and that they'd best be taking pictures and be on their way. With Hamish grumbling, they went to the stairs in the hallway and Jessie took a few pictures of the four and one of just Gayle and Kelsey. Then Jessie insisted they get a picture of just Hamish and Gayle. This time, however, Hamish did no grumbling at all. He, too, wanted a picture to remember her when she went back home.

Gayle found her heart beating surprisingly fast as she got on the second to last step while Hamish stood on the last; only a few inches separated their heights. They both looked at the other, like silently asking, 'How exactly do we do this?'

"Och, fur pete's sake! At leest pretend ye tois ken each other!" Jessie fussed at them.

Hamish and Gayle laughed nervously, their bodies then drawn together like a magnet, their eyes locked. Intuitively, he put his arm around the small of her back while she put her hand in his other, as if there was a sudden unique connection between them. Then there was the click of the camera.

"Bloody hell, mate! We weren't -" Hamish abruptly stopped when he saw the four whispering and nodding as they looked at the picture.

"Alright, that's enough," Hamish declared as he took Gayle's hand and helped her down. Again, their eyes locked, and there was another click. "What is so damned fascinating with -"

As Hamish and Gayle reached the group, Jessie said, "Pipe doon, bairn. Jack, shaw them th' picture."

Pulling it up, the two looked at their picture, and for Gayle, the air was sucked out of the room. She never realized how much power and emotion she could give off with just one glance. For Hamish, he knew he was in some deep shit. For anyone who knew Hamish well enough, they would instantly see the attraction he had for Gayle.

"Enough already," Hamish complained. "Mate, if you end up snapping photos all night I'll -"

"You'll do nothing," Jack replied.

Hamish and Jack bid Kelsey and Jessie farewell outside while the women took one last trip to the bathroom to check out their make-up and make sure there wasn't too much cleavage showing, not that either of them minded. While Gayle still couldn't get the image of the mysterious link between her and Hamish, she repeated over and over there was nothing between them. But there was no denying the cursed picture.

In the foyer, Gayle draped the shawl over her shoulders and the ladies met the men outside. The first thing she noticed was the sun just setting behind the tops of the trees. The second thing she saw was the transportation. Her mouth dropped at seeing the long, white limo, the chauffer standing by the opened door.

"Hamish!" Gayle gushed.

"No worries, lass," Jack said. "This was our idea." Lily promptly elbowed his side. "Her idea. Sorry, dear."

Gayle had to stop herself from giggling at the two's playful humor.

"Charlie, would you mind taking a few pictures?" Jack asked.

"Oi wud be 'appy ter, Dr. Jenkins," Charlie replied.

Gayle was so enthralled with his heavy Irish accent that she barely heard Hamish tell her to give him her camera.

When she regained her senses and a few pictures were snapped, Lily slid into the limo first, followed by Gayle and the two men. Gayle looked around in awe at the white leather bucket seats, two facing forward and four facing the sides of the vehicle; a small bar set with glasses and a few bottles of liquor; a small refrigerator underneath the small sink and soft lighting from lights in the ceiling and built into the small cabinets. The paneling between the darkened windows was also white, and the floor was a pine hardwood.

"Oh, my god! This is amazing!" Gayle said giddily as she looked up at the closed sun roof.

"Yes, it is," Lily told her. "My uncle owns the limousine rental service, and we use this occasionally. Jack, why don't you get our guests something to drink?"

"Just wine, please," Gayle said.

"What about a Kahlua and cream, Gayle?" Hamish egged her on, his eyebrows wagging.

"No, that wouldn't be a good idea at all. I can't mix alcohol."

Hamish tilted his head in contemplation but gave in. "Alright. I just remembered you saying you liked them."

She looked over his face, knowing instantly what he was doing. He wanted her horny. Knowing herself, and the fact that moisture had already built up in her crotch, a White Russian wouldn't be necessary.

Time seemed to fly by as the men reminisced with stories of their younger days, which really wasn't all that long ago. There were fights over girls, bets on their favorite football teams, nights of drinking, streaking, fights over girls. To Gayle, the two were as close as brothers.

Soon, the car took a sharp turn to the left, and the darkened divider between the cab and back of the limo lowered. Charlie announced, "We're at de gatehouse. Please finish up yisser drinks."

Even though his accent was thick, she understood clearly what he said. She grew excited, yet butterflies flittered in her stomach, and it wasn't the crystal from her dress.You can do this. You can do this. She sighed heavily, and Hamish reached over and gripped her hand, squeezing it slightly, smiling at her. She smiled back, the butterflies instantly flew away.

The ride to the house was fairly quick, and Gayle grumbled that she couldn't see anything, but she could hear music. "Why don't they have windows in this thing?!"

"Ah, they chucker," Charlie said, being the divider was still down.

Gayle didn't understand him that time, but the windows slowly rolled down to reveal a screen... and bagpipes with drums flowed into the vehicle. Her eyes lit up, and she turned to peer out the window. "Oh, my god! I hear bagpipes."

"Yes, Ms. Boyce," Hamish replied amused. "You'll find bagpipes all over Scotland."

The paved driveway curved around a bend that exposed a beautiful castle, every inch of it lit with flood lights. Though it was fairly small, it was no less extravagant. The white painted-brick tower to the left had several paned windows, every one of them crooked with age and settling over the centuries. The front was a light brick with dormer windows on the second floor and larger paned, floor-to-ceiling windows on the first floor. The structure was fairly flat but had two small towers, and a French door with steps led to a neatly manicured lawn.

"This is Craigcrook Castle, built in 1542 by William Adamson. The owners and hosts are Alistair and Maureen Graham," Lily informed Gayle. "It's been in Maureen's family since the early 1600s, when her ancestor, Ophelia Adamson married Donnchad Graham. There's quite a list of literary greats that have visited, including Charles Dickens and Hans Christian Anderson."

"Really? That's fascinating," Gayle said.

"It's on the market right now for only six million pounds," Jack added.

Gayle was flabbergasted. "Only six million?! That's what, fifteen million dollars?"

"No, about ten," Hamish said.

Looking at her boss and smiling innocently, she asked, "Think I can get a raise?"

"Most certainly not!" he declared.

Shrugging her shoulders, she chuckled. "Well, I tried."

Finishing their drinks, the vehicle stopped a few times to allow other limos and luxury cars pass them, and they finally pulled up to the back of the castle. Gayle sat waiting for another to make the first move to exit, and no one did until the door was opened by Charlie.

"Ladies first," Jack said. When Hamish stood, though crouched, and stepped to the door, Jack protested. "No, haud on baw heid."

Gayle tried not to laugh and asked, "What the heck does baw mean?"

"He called me a thickhead," Hamish replied.

Again, she tried not to laugh because it was so very true.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jackie, boy," Hamish said. "Did you want to go first, ye ole' hen?"

Everyone had a good laugh then Lily and Gayle stepped out with the men behind them. Gayle turned to the sound of the bagpipes and drums and saw a small group of musicians. Gravitating toward them, she was enthralled by the fiddler, flutist, violinist, accordion player and the man banging on the Bodhran with a small club-like stick.

On a wooden platform were two couples dancing - two men, both in full kilt outfits dancing with their female partners, who were wearing Celtic dresses. They looked like they were having fun, all the while being graceful as they skipped and kicked their feet. Then it dawned on her that the dance reminded her of square dancing, which, she supposed, evolved when the Scots brought the Celtic dance over, and it changed over the generations. She couldn't help not tapping her foot to the rhythm.

Feeling a hand on her elbow, she looked up at Hamish, who was gazing at her with the oddest look. Because there wasn't anyone close to them, she whispered, "Sir? Is something wrong?"

He smiled. "No. I adore seeing your face light up when you see something new."

"Oh. You've been seeing that a lot from me, then."

"True. And I hope to see many more, Gayle. You have a delightful smile."

"Excuse me, you two," Lily interrupted them, handing them two champagne flutes. "Care for some champagne?"

Neither one of them liked the expression on Lily's face. It was almost like she had this amazing secret but she wasn't going to let them in on it.

"Lily? Are you trying to get me drunk?" Gayle asked, although she took the glass, as did Hamish.

"Yes, she is," Hamish answered for her.

"Alright, you guys. We should be heading on inside," Jack said as he joined them.

"Right. It is getting chilly now that the sun's going down," Lily commented.

Turning around, Gayle say the amazing view of the sun setting over a nearby village, some ocean then another island. The sky was a bright orange-yellow with wisps of pink and orange surrounding the orb.

"I would love to have a view like this from our backyard," Gayle said then followed the group up the steps.

Gayle's heart was pounding with nerves as they stepped into the foyer. There were people milling about and chatting, the music from outside seeping into the room. All of the men wore formal dress kilts - though no one looked hotter than Hamish - and the women were mostly in full-length cocktail dresses, all looking like they were going to the Oscars.

The men, on the other hand, were much more impressive in their Military kilts. The most striking was the man wearing a more formal black jacket than the Prince Charles one, which was buttoned to the collarbone with large, gold buttons. Over each shoulder, under gold-colored, braided rope on his broad shoulders were a red and white thick sash that cross-crossed over his chest, nestled under a thick, white belt. The lapel of the jacket showed off several metal medallions of yellow, blue and white. At his waist hung a Sporran, much fancier than the one Hamish wore. On the top was a thin strip of light brown fur, and on either side hung white fur cascading down to the hem of the green and white kilt; it almost looked like an old man's mustache. He was one of only a few that wore hats, which was black velvet, two more medals on either side, and a six-inch tail of black fur standing tall, wrapped at the base with white fabric.

Gayle practically jumped when she heard, "Hamish McDougal!" She turned toward the voice as the man approached them, a woman by his side. "Welcome! Jack and Lily - always good to see you... well, not you, Doc." After shaking hands and giving Lily a quick kiss, he turned to Gayle. "And who might this enchanting creature be?"