”“Oh, excuse me, will you? Be right back, just need to serve this customer,” he said as he indicated to a woman standing near the front counter....“Feel free to pick out a sporran, I think you would look great with one.”He pointed to a shelf nearby with a large range of sporrans and chains. As he made his way to the counter, I was left to look around, not unaware of the fact that I was wearing nothing under my kilt. I have to admit, it felt good, and a little naughty walking around a shop with. She had cried to Laurie who had taken her under her wing, but Laurie was mistaken in assessing Taylor’s tears. The muted pallet of décor in the novice hall did nothing to staunch her tears. For once in her life, this wing of endless down-filled satin cushions, gauze-like veils from floor to ceiling steeped in femininity was her prison instead of her saving grace. She could not believe how foolish she looked tonight, trying to find out more about Mr. Leif’s past than he was willing to share with. More

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