The Laird's Christmas Kiss

by Anna Campbell

  “Perhaps not hundreds.” She’d been a little girl when the family hosted Christmas parties in London. Her father had still been alive, and any kissing had been a childish game, like bobbing for apples or snapdragon.

  “I look forward to seeing what ye can teach me.”

  “Not much, I’m sure.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “I’ve heard the gossip.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t laugh. “A man can turn over a new leaf.” He paused. “With the right incentive.”

  “What are you saying?” she said, her fingers tightening on her champagne glass and her heart rising to stick in her throat like a lump of soggy tapioca.

  He glanced around, then lowered his voice, although from what she could see, nobody paid them a scrap of attention. “I’ll tell ye once I get you alone under the mistletoe. At last something useful comes out of England.”

  “Brody…” she said, not sure whether she meant to protest or encourage him. For a girl who had foresworn all interest in him, this was a dangerous game to play.

  She stared up into green eyes that seemed to send her a private message. It took her a few moments to realize that her mother had come up to join them. “Elspeth, you look lovely tonight.”

  The intensity drained from Brody’s expression, and he was once again the urbane gentleman who charmed all the ladies, with no thoughts of settling for one in particular. “Lady Glen Lyon, Elspeth always looks lovely.”

  Her mother smiled at him. “You’re such a charming fellow, Brody.” She checked back on her daughter. “You’ve changed your hair.”

  “Marina lent me her maid for the evening.”

  Her mother patted her own elegant blond knot. “Perhaps she’ll give me some pointers. She’s made quite the difference to you, my dear.” She frowned. “And is that a new dress? I don’t recall seeing it before.”

  Elspeth glanced down at the dark blue silk she’d worn a hundred times and hid a smile. Marina and Sandra had done her proud. Instead of a plain gown that buttoned like a noose against her throat, Sandra’s magic scissors had created a flattering square décolletage that revealed more flesh than she was used to showing.

  Despite Elspeth’s protests at the extravagant gift, Marina had produced some exquisite Brussels lace to soften the dress’s stark lines. The soft, buttery color lent a creamy tinge to her skin. She’d already noticed how Brody’s eyes dwelled on her exposed bosom, but was cynical enough to know that libertines were in the habit of inspecting a lady’s breasts. He wouldn’t think her bosom anything special.

  “It’s something old I had altered,” she said, touching the gold locket that dangled at her throat. It had been her grandmother’s, and she didn’t wear it often. Her previous style of gown didn’t call for much jewelry.

  “I should lend you my sapphires. They’d look perfect with that color. I’m pleased to see you paying more attention to your appearance. You’ve never been interested before.”

  “Doesn’t Elspeth look lovely tonight?” Marina came up and smiled at her protegée with open approval.

  “Breathtaking,” Brody said with what seemed like genuine fervor, and Elspeth had to remind herself that compliments were part of a rake’s arsenal. He didn’t mean anything beyond politeness, even if it sounded like he did.

  “She does.” To Elspeth’s astonishment, her mother leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I have to congratulate you, Marina. However I tried, I never managed to prize my daughter away from those dreadful dowdy frocks. She’s always been my cuckoo in the nest. In Town, I could never keep Grace, Prudence and Charity out of the shops, and I could barely get Elspeth into one.”

  “We can go shopping next time we’re in Edinburgh,” Elspeth said in a tentative tone and was surprised at her mother’s immediate enthusiasm. Perhaps she’d become a little too comfortable with her place as the family afterthought, and perhaps her mother’s benign neglect wasn’t altogether the result of selfishness.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Elspeth listened with half an ear as Mamma and Marina discussed Italian fashions, while she wondered if this new look might improve her relations with her mother. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it was a change she’d welcome.

  Chapter 8

  By the time Brody sat down to dinner, he was almost in charity with his hostess. The fact that Marina had placed him next to Elspeth went a long way toward softening his resentment. As did Elspeth’s palpable amazement at the flood of compliments she’d received on her changed appearance. Amazement and blossoming pleasure. Ugolino and Giulia remained the center of attention, but nobody missed how stylish young Miss Douglas looked in midnight blue silk and cream lace.

  Brody had no right to feel disgruntled. On Elspeth’s behalf, he’d come to resent the way her family overlooked her. But some unworthy element in him had gloated to know that only he was perceptive enough to notice her beauty and charm.

  “What is it?” she asked under her breath, as fish replaced the soup course and the party’s happy chatter buzzed about them.

  “Pardon?” he asked.

  “You keep staring at me.”

  “You’re a lassie worth staring at.”

  Those full, pink lips tightened in displeasure. “You never thought that before.”

  He cast her an unimpressed glance and cut into his fillet of sole in lemon sauce. “You know that’s nae true. I stared at ye well before you decided to turn into a diamond of the first water.”

  Self-consciously, she touched the elaborate arrangement of curls framing her face. “Don’t you approve?”

  With a grunt of amusement, he raised his glass of hock in a mocking toast that at heart wasn’t mocking at all. “Dinnae be a daft wee widgeon, Elspeth. Of course I approve. You’re beautiful.”

  Faint rose tinged her cheeks, and her eyelashes fluttered down. “Thank you.”

  “I like what you’ve done with your hair. It makes me want to take ye to bed.”

  She gave a soft gasp, and her gaze whipped back to his face. “You’re being wicked again. You just can’t help yourself.”

  He shrugged. “When I see ye, I certainly can’t. I imagine that’s the reaction Marina’s maid aimed to create.” He paused. “Although to be fair, I wanted to take ye to bed when your hair was pulled back so tightly, it made me wince. And I definitely commend whatever sorcery you’ve accomplished with yon blue dress. I always thought you had a magnificent bosom. Now the rest of the world can see enough of ye to agree with me.”

  The rose deepened, and the magnificent bosom swelled most impressively. He braced for a scolding. He deserved one. After all, he was behaving like a cad, considering she was an innocent and his friend’s sister, and he was sitting at the family dinner table. But he loved the way her eyes flashed when he teased her. That hadn’t changed, despite her dressing to dazzle.

  But instead of delivering a set down, Elspeth regarded him curiously. “Do you never have a normal, sensible discussion with a woman? Something about—I don’t know—what she did today, or her family, or the books she’s read? Is it always this flirtatious nonsense?”

  Under her probing gaze, he shifted in discomfort. Especially because, while it was sadly true that his usual banter with females was nonsense, when he told Elspeth he wanted her, it wasn’t nonsense at all. “You dinnae like it?”

  Brody waited for her to say no. To his surprise, her eyes flickered away again and she concentrated on her meal. “Of course I like it. I’m as susceptible as any other woman to a handsome man’s flattery—as you very well know, or you wouldn’t do it. But all this teasing and taunting make it impossible to know you in any genuine way. Perhaps that’s why you do it.”

  “What a bleak assessment.” His lips turned down, as he endured another, sharper pang of discomfort. Her perception wasn’t altogether welcome. “But be fair, lassie. I ken what ye did all day. I ken everything I need to about your family. If we discuss books, you’ll discover how woefully ignorant I am, and decide I’m no’ worth yo
ur trouble. I cannae allow that. What else is there? I could tell ye some scandalous stories about my last visit to Edinburgh, but they’re nae suitable for polite company.”

  “Would you really?” To his surprise, he caught a spark of interest in her expression as she looked up from her fish. “I’d love to know more about the demimonde.”

  His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Ye probably wouldn’t.”

  “But you might tell me later?”

  “I might. But where does that leave us now? I could talk about your bosom.”

  Her turn for a wry smile. “You’ve certainly spent long enough looking at it.”

  “It merits a lifetime of study,” he said ardently, every word sincere.

  After shooting him a dismissive glance, her expression turned serious. “You could tell me about Invermackie. I’ve never been there, and I’ve always been curious about it.”

  He shook his head in bafflement. “You’re a strange girl.”

  She smiled. “A new hairstyle hasn’t changed me that much.”

  He smiled back. “So I see.”

  She took a sip of white wine. “Is Invermackie like Glen Lyon?”

  “Well, it’s a Highland estate, with hills and lochs and a view over the sea, but that’s about as far as the similarity goes. It’s wild and isolated, a glen with a secret harbor looking straight across at the hills of Harris. The river starts with waterfalls high up the brae behind the house, and rushes down from Loch Mackie to meet the sea.”

  The brown eyes turned velvety in a way they never did when he tried to seduce her with compliments, damn it. “It sounds beautiful.”

  “Aye, it is. When the north wind isn’t howling about your ears and turning them blue.” Actually even in dreich weather, he thought his home was beautiful, but he didn’t expect the opinion to gain general acceptance.

  Elspeth made a dismissive sound. “That’s true about the whole of Scotland. We all know the nice days make up for the horrible ones. Tell me more.”

  Brody set down his cutlery and stared into space, his head full of the spectacular place where he was born.

  “I grew up at Invermackie House. It’s built beside a beach of golden sand, just perfect for a run with a dog or a gallop on a swift horse. If you’re lucky, you’ll see otters and eagles and seals and dolphins. In hidden hollows, ancient trees still grow. There’s a local superstition that if the forest disappears from the estate, the lairds will, too. That gives us a vested interest in keeping it alive. The people of Invermackie in the village and on the crofts are hardy, and there’s sea salt in their veins and in their conversation. The soil is thin, and the land is only good for raising sheep and cattle, but the sea has been generous to us. There’s a fine living in the fishing. If ye ever tried an Invermackie smoked herring, you’d scorn my cousin’s fine trout as second rate.” Brody came back to the moment to see her lips twitch.

  “Don’t tell Fergus,” she said.

  “I willnae.” Heat flooded his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I seem to be waxing lyrical, and while I rant like a loon, your dinner is getting cold.”

  “Thank you for telling me all that.” The eyes she turned on him glowed with interest. “It sounds wonderful.”

  “You wouldn’t think that, when the blizzards shriek around the house in January,” Brody muttered, before he recalled his plans to make Elspeth the lady of Invermackie. Perhaps it might be politic to avoid too much discussion of the weather.

  “A good excuse to stay inside by the hearth.”

  He had a sudden vivid image of Elspeth in the parlor at Invermackie House, with a roaring fire in the grate. The wind might shriek around the rafters like a banshee, but he wouldn’t give a farthing about anything except the bonny woman on his knee. His gut clenched on a longing that was almost painful. He wanted that dream to come true more than he’d ever wanted anything in his hedonistic life.

  “Aye, it is at that. May I mention beds again?”

  “No, you may not.” Her disapproval was charming. “Tell me more about the house.”

  “It’s nae a castle like Achnasheen, but bonny for all that. Old gray stone, mullioned windows that open onto the sea, big, airy rooms paneled in dark wood.” He glanced around his cousin’s dining room, decorated in fashionable gold and green stripes, and smiled. “A few modern notions wouldnae go astray, if I’m honest. The place desperately needs a woman’s touch. My mother wasnae much given to fashionable taste, before she passed away thirteen years ago. My father believed in tradition and liked things to stay as they’d always been.”

  “How long have you been the laird?”

  “Since I was twenty-three. Two years ago now.”

  “Time enough to change the décor.”

  “I’m rarely there.”

  She frowned. “That’s sad, when you love it so much.”

  He did. Every rugged, barren, windswept, gorgeous inch of it. “It’s easier to play the rake in Edinburgh than the laird at Invermackie,” he said, before he remembered that mentioning his roguish reputation wasn’t the best way to promote his suitability as a husband. “The estate is a long way away from everything.”

  A long way away? That was an understatement. Invermackie was two days’ ride north of Achnasheen. And Achnasheen was the arse end of nowhere.

  “If it’s what you want, it’s right where it needs to be,” she said softly, but with breathtaking certainty. Her wisdom struck him silent, as he wondered if she’d ever see the home he cherished.

  On her other side, Donald made a remark about the bad weather. With her habitual good manners, Elspeth turned to reply to her brother-in-law. Without much remorse, Brody admitted that he’d been monopolizing her. Giulia sat next to him, but she and Ugolino were busy making sheep’s eyes at one another.

  Brody stared down at his roast beef and thought about what Elspeth had said. She was right. Why the devil was he ready to exile himself from his home and waste his youth in tawdry pursuits? Not that the pursuits had felt tawdry at the time. He’d thoroughly enjoyed his libertine days, but he was well overdue to move on to more mature activities.

  After his father’s death, Invermackie had seemed lonely and empty, and Brody had left it to escape his grief. He’d also felt like an imposter whenever anyone addressed him as the laird. As far as he was concerned, the laird was his father, even if he lay buried in the churchyard.

  But for the last two years, the house had waited in its hidden glen for him to return and fill it with family and laughter and joy. At last, now he’d settled his interest on Elspeth, he saw a chance for that to happen.

  As he started to eat, he prayed his wee wren would marry him, and live on his estate, and turn the sad, empty shell of Invermackie House into a home once more.

  ***

  The party went late, as the guests lingered downstairs to celebrate Ugolino and Giulia’s nuptials. By the time Elspeth had danced her last reel and sung her last Christmas carol, she was weary. Not to mention a little unsteady on her feet. She wasn’t used to strong spirits, and Fergus had encouraged her to toast the happy couple with a dram or two of whisky.

  She remained keyed up. It had been a long day, brimming with excitement and nerves. And compliments on her appearance, although the admiration in Brody’s eyes had done the most to convince her that the change was to her advantage.

  How she’d enjoyed their talk at dinner. What an interesting man he was, once he sloughed off the rakish shell. She mightn’t pine after him anymore, but she appreciated a chance to know him better. The longing in his voice as he spoke of Invermackie had made her ache to race over those golden sands with him at her side.

  He said he headed home after Hogmanay. She hoped when he did, he found the peace he sought. Because somewhere in the last few days, she’d come to see that despite his carefully cultivated air of insouciance, he was unhappy. She wished she could do something to ease his care—purely as a friend. Despite his teasing remarks about kissing, she’d relinquished all ambitions to become his lover
.

  Perhaps they inched toward a genuine friendship now because she’d given up her romantic dreams. Before this, she’d been too shy and adoring to engage him in anything approaching a real conversation.

  As the guests drifted through the holly-bedecked hall in search of their beds, Elspeth looked for him. She’d love to hear more about Invermackie and what it had been like to grow up there. But he must have already gone upstairs. Or more likely he’d sneaked away to smoke a cigar and escape the endless seasonal cheer. He wasn’t a man who liked an early night, she’d noticed.

  Still, it was disappointing not to wish him good night and bask in his presence. Some female element inside her couldn’t help responding to the seductive charm in those green eyes, so striking with his ruffled dark hair.

  Feeling a little out of sorts, which was odd when she’d spent the rest of the evening on top of the world, she trudged toward the stairs. Then she started as a strong hand curled around her arm.

  “Come away with me, lassie,” a husky voice murmured in her ear. “The evening’s no’ over for ye yet, wee Elspeth. Not by a long shot.”

  Chapter 9

  “Brody,” Elspeth squeaked, doing nothing to stop him from hauling her into the morning room to the left of the magnificent carved oak staircase. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Whisht, lassie,” he whispered. “We’ve only got a minute. If you’re late upstairs, people will want to ken why.”

  When she shivered, she wasn’t sure whether it was from cold or excitement. Through the fine silk of her dress, his grip on her waist was warm and possessive. The morning room, on the other hand, wasn’t. The fire was only lit in here during the day.

  “I want to know why, too,” she said, although she kept her voice to a murmur.

  He held up a sprig of something green and waved it in front of her nose. “I want to test out Ugolino’s magic plant.”

  This time the shiver was definitely a thrill. A handsome laird bustled her away to steal a kiss. What a perfect end to an evening where nobody had even thought to call her a mouse. “You want to kiss me?”