“She’s also far too good for a libertine like you.”
Shocked and resentful, far more than he could justify, given his history, he glared at the man he called a friend. “What the devil are ye trying to say?”
Diarmid remained unruffled. “She’s nice, and she doesnae deserve to have her heart broken by a careless philanderer.”
Brody drew himself up to his full height, which didn’t mean much, seeing both he and Diarmid were around six feet two. He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low, dangerous voice. “Are ye saying you’ve got rights there, Mactavish?”
He couldn’t help remembering that Elspeth hadn’t been overly pleased to see him at breakfast, whereas she’d lit up like a bloody lighthouse when Diarmid appeared.
“Are ye saying you want rights of your own, Girvan?”
“You’re her blasted cousin,” he spat, even as he felt sick at the idea of that lovely girl in Diarmid’s arms, cousin or not. It was a surprise to realize that he didn’t want Elspeth Douglas in anyone’s arms but his.
“Aye, which is why I have to keep her out of the clutches of womanizing scoundrels,” snapped the usually good-natured Diarmid.
“What on earth is going on?” Fergus barked. Brody had been so involved in the spat, he hadn’t noticed that the game of cards had finished and his cousin approached them. “It’s supposed to be the season of good will, yet ye two look ready to kill one another.”
The tension flowed out of Diarmid as if it had never existed, while Brody remained sickly aware that the fellow hadn’t answered the question about his interest in Elspeth. He was also aware that beneath the jealousy he had no right to feel, he was hurt that Diarmid harbored such a low opinion of him. He’d always liked and respected the other man, but it seemed the esteem wasn’t mutual.
“Just a wee philosophical disagreement,” Diarmid said, and Brody envied how fast his friend regained his customary composure. He still felt ready to explode like gunpowder at the first provocation.
“Take it outside.”
“It’s bloody snowing,” Brody protested.
“I know.” Evil dripped from Fergus’s smile. “It might cool ye both off.”
Marina came up and slid her arm through Fergus’s. Brody wondered if he was right to suspect that she and Elspeth had been talking about him. He hoped so. “Tesoro, shall we have some dancing? Charles has offered to play, to make equal numbers of men and women.”
Fergus smiled down at his wife, a headstrong, independent woman who was the complete opposite of every other lassie he’d ever chased in his thirty-odd years. The warmth in his gray eyes made Brody’s notoriety seem cheaper than ever. “As long as I get to dance with ye, mo chridhe, I thoroughly approve.”
“Good. We might have a couple of waltzes and quadrilles, and perhaps a reel or two.”
She clapped her hands and soon had everyone lined up facing each other. Charles launched into a jaunty tune, and the dancing began. Brody ended up opposite Charity. He didn’t mind. One of the pleasures of these country dances was that a man got to partner all the ladies in turn. Elspeth was three couples down, with Hamish. If she’d been dancing with that condescending bastard Diarmid, Brody might have been less sanguine.
It still seemed to take forever for the ladies to work down the line, but at last he reached out to catch Elspeth’s hand as they and the next couple formed a star and circled. When his large hand closed over hers, her coffee-dark eyes flashed in his direction. Perhaps she reacted to the contact like he did. Her touch set his heart crashing like a great drum and shot sizzling heat up his arm.
Did she feel the same attraction? The flare of awareness had been too brief for him to be sure it even existed. Those sumptuous eyelashes fluttered down, and she retreated into mystery once more.
Because of the odd number of pairs, he and Elspeth stood out for a turn, while the others continued with the dance. He kept hold of her hand, although there was no strict requirement that he should. Her fingers fluttered in his, but she didn’t pull away.
“I believe we’re meant to make conversation while we wait,” he prompted with gentle mockery.
Another flicker of those remarkable eyes in his direction. Every time she focused on him, he had the uncomfortable sensation that she saw past his polished outer self to his soul. Did she, like Diarmid, consider him a worthless fribble? Or did she find some redeeming qualities? He fervently hoped she did.
“Where are you going when you leave Achnasheen?” she asked.
Wherever you are.
But he couldn’t say that. Not yet, anyway. “Back to Invermackie. I’m overdue to visit.”
When she licked those full lips, another bolt of heat jolted him. “Not…not Edinburgh?”
He shook his head and avoided Diarmid’s glare as the other man swung Hamish’s mother around in the dance. “I’m a wee bit weary of Edinburgh.”
Elspeth was watching him again with that serious expression. He was unused to girls who didn’t try to flirt with him. He wasn’t quite sure how he should act.
“Perhaps London might offer better entertainment.”
“I doubt it.” His lips tightened. “It’s all more of the same, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. You must be so very jaded. Edinburgh and London sound exciting to me. I lead a quiet life with my mother and Hamish.”
The hint of wistfulness in her voice touched him. He squeezed her hand and only just stopped himself kissing her. And wouldn’t that put Diarmid’s kilt in a twist? “I’d love to show ye those places one day, Elspeth.”
She cast him a startled glance, but he was saved from having to explain his remark because it was their turn to rejoin the dancers. As was the way, another partner swept her off. Brody found himself facing Marina, the woman who had sparked his seething discontent.
What a pity he liked her so much.
As he swung her around in the center of the square then promenaded down the line, she smiled. “You like her.”
Despite his years of debauchery in Edinburgh’s salons, Brody found himself blushing like a schoolboy. Of course he bloody liked Elspeth. Still, a man had his pride to keep up.
“Who?” he said with a disingenuousness that failed to convince his cousin’s wife. It didn’t even convince him.
“The cook’s cat, of course,” Marina said with asperity. “Who do you think I mean? I begin to think that I’ve been wrong to underestimate your good taste.”
He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Marina arched her eyebrows. “You know exactly what I mean.”
To his regret, he did. Elspeth was as far removed from his usual inamoratas as gold from iron pyrites. “She likes Diarmid,” he said gloomily.
Marina scanned down the line to where Diarmid swung Elspeth. “Si, she does. Cielo, he’s such a handsome devil.”
Ladies had a weakness for the dark, brooding type. It was a pose Brody, too, had adopted with notable success.
The dance’s energetic movements put pink in Elspeth’s cheeks. She didn’t look at all the shy wee wren he’d always thought her. She laughed at something that slimy bugger Diarmid said. She never bloody laughed at anything Brody said to her.
Jealousy stabbed him, more powerful because it was an unfamiliar emotion. “You’re not making me feel any better,” he said sourly.
He mightn’t make Elspeth laugh, but no question, he amused Marina. He wished that counted. “Cheer up. Perhaps she’ll start to notice your good qualities.”
“I’m not sure I have any,” he said before he could stop himself.
Brilliant black eyes shot him a critical glance. “Per pietà, you’ll have to dig some up, if you want to woo that lovely girl. Your wicked Edinburgh ways aren’t going to win you any battles in this fight.”
What was the point of arguing? She was right. As they took their place at the head of the line, he shot her a straight look. “What were ye and Elspeth talking about on the sofa?”
�
��When you couldn’t take your eyes off her?”
He ignored that. “Were ye talking about me?”
Marina rolled her eyes. “No, we weren’t. We were talking about dresses.”
“Oh,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment.
“Chin up, Brody. If you’ve grown up enough to notice Elspeth, you’ve grown up enough to work out how to catch her.”
Before he could object to a remark which annoyed him on so many levels he didn’t know where to start, they changed partners again, and he was back facing Charity.
Chapter 4
By the time Donald started to play a waltz, Elspeth had almost recovered from that astonishing conversation with Brody. Then her heart, barely back to beating at a normal rate, started to race again when the man she refused to love anymore strolled toward her on those long, powerful legs. He had almost reached her, and the breath jammed in her throat, and the room receded down a long tunnel, and…
“May I have this dance, sis?”
She blinked to bring the whirling scene back into focus. Hamish stood in front of her with his hand outstretched. She was nodding and rising from her chair, before the great weight of disappointment could crush her. Because a woman who didn’t love Brody Girvan had no right to feel devastated when she missed the chance to twirl around the room in his arms.
Brody paused a few feet away and invited Prudence to be his partner.
Elspeth made herself smile at Hamish. “Of course.”
Marina’s impromptu ball proved a great success. By the time Charles sat at the piano so Donald could dance with his wife, Elspeth had waltzed with every male in the room except Brody.
At the end of a cotillion, she saw him approaching, arm in arm with Marina, who looked flushed and happy. A pang of something that might have been jealousy—if she still cared for Brody—pricked Elspeth, before she noticed Fergus striding toward his wife. It was plain that all Marina’s rosy joy stemmed from the prospect of dancing with the man she loved.
“I’ve done my duty, mo chridhe,” Fergus said. “Can I dance with my wife now?”
Marina laughed and shot him a flirtatious glance from under her thick black eyelashes. “If you ask nicely, caro.”
“Nothing as poor spirited as that.” Fergus flashed her a smile. “I’m going to sweep you into my arms and out onto the dance floor, whether ye agree or not.”
Lucky Marina, Elspeth couldn’t help thinking. Brody stepped away from his hostess, as she took her husband’s hand. “I can’t wait.”
True to his word, Fergus whirled her out into the dance, leaving Elspeth alone with Brody. Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his and despite everything, she couldn’t stifle a thrill at the glittering look of triumph she discovered there.
“I’ve done my duty, too. Now I want to dance with ye.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diarmid marching toward her with a determined expression. Quickly she stretched her hand out to Brody. “I’d be delighted.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” His smile was no less piratical than Fergus’s.
The breath jammed in her throat at the magnificent sight of this man with his face creased in pleasure. When he caught her hand in a ruthless grip, anticipation rippled right to her toes in their blue satin dancing slippers.
She couldn’t contain another thrill as he slid one hard hand around her waist. They began to move with the lilting music. Diarmid had turned aside and was now dancing with her mother.
Elspeth was afraid she might stumble, now they waltzed together. In the past, the mere mention of Brody’s name was enough to make her butter-fingered and as clumsy as a newborn filly. Deciding she didn’t love him did wonders for her poise. Her feet fell into the pattern of the waltz as naturally as if she’d been born to dance with the Laird of Invermackie.
The room was large and the party was small, leaving Elspeth and Brody plenty of room to move without worrying about the other couples. The music swirling around them was the sweetest melody she’d ever heard. Heaven help her, this was like flying among the stars.
Once she realized she wasn’t going to disgrace herself on the dance floor, she met his green gaze. He was studying her with a dedicated concentration that made her heart crash into her ribs with forbidden excitement.
“We’ve never waltzed before,” he said, staring at her as if she was the prettiest girl in the world.
What a flirt he was. He just couldn’t help himself. Now she’d gained some distance from her adolescent yearnings, it was easy to see how he’d talked all those ladies into sin.
“The Douglas family parties have always been too staid for such a scandalous new dance.” Thank goodness, she even managed to put a few words together without sounding like a tongue-tied ninny. Not being in love was good for her. She should have tried it long ago. “If people had waltzed at one of Hamish’s Christmas celebrations, Aunt Agatha would have had a fit. She doesn’t much approve of dancing at the best of times.”
The heat from Brody’s touch seemed to seep through her whole body. When his large hand shifted to bring her closer, she caught the drift of his scent over the fresh sap of the pine branches decorating the room. Sandalwood soap. Young, healthy male. Something intriguing and spicy that she suspected might belong just to him.
Sharing his scent was breathtakingly intimate, although a few inches of space still separated them and kept the dance—almost—proper. Her silly heart started to turn somersaults, even as she gave it a stern lecture about how it should behave with a mere acquaintance.
“Good God, then she’d have a heart attack if she could see all this unbridled license tonight,” Brody said drily. “People in each other’s arms? Disgusting!”
“I’ve always been terrified of her. She’s wont to lecture me on propriety.”
“Then to the devil with the old besom.”
Elspeth cast him an uncertain look. Brody couldn’t be hinting that he’d like to lure her into some bad behavior. Heavens above, he’d never even looked at her before tonight, and she was well aware that she wasn’t a girl a rake would find of interest.
She retreated to a neutral statement. “Marina is going to ring in a lot of changes, I think.”
“God bless Marina.” When he smiled down at Elspeth, her heart performed a few more giddy acrobatics. She couldn’t help it, and she refused to apologize for a feminine reaction that meant nothing beyond the enjoyment of the moment. When such a handsome man exercised his attractions, any lady would feel a flutter or two.
“I always imagined Fergus would marry someone meek and obedient. She’s such a lovely surprise.”
Brody performed a turn that made her head spin. By the time she caught her breath, the couple of inches between them had shrunk to a tiny gap that would horrify Aunt Agatha. Elspeth made a half-hearted attempt to establish a greater distance, but that firm grip at her waist wouldn’t budge.
“She’s not the only lovely surprise.”
This time, even a woman determined to cling to good sense couldn’t mistake his meaning. She sent him a repressive glance. “Brody, don’t waste your time flirting with me. I’m frightfully dull.”
He laughed, and she saw Diarmid shoot them a disapproving look. Then she caught Marina’s eye. Marina didn’t look disapproving at all.
Brody’s sensual lips lifted in a sardonic curl. “I’m not wasting my time, you strange and enchanting lassie.”
For a moment, the room vanished, and all she saw was that dark, striking face with its brilliant green eyes and commanding blade of a nose. Then she remembered that she’d vowed to be sensible when it came to this man. “You’re trying to turn my head.”
He arched one black eyebrow. “Am I succeeding?”
“No,” she said, although even now, she wasn’t sure about that. “There must be better targets for all this charm.”
He was still smiling down at her as if he really was enchanted. “You think I’m charming?”
This onslaught of masculine interes
t was all too heady for her. And unfair. Not to mention a little cruel. Because while Elspeth might have banished her ludicrous adolescent tendre for him, she wasn’t immune to his appeal. While every minute proved that she’d aimed way above her touch when she’d set her sights on him.
Resentment sneaked out to color her response. “Does it matter what I think, when you’re so convinced yourself?”
He looked startled and for a moment, she caught a hint of what might be injured feelings. Then his eyes sharpened in a way that sent a chill of disquiet rushing down her spine. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Elspeth?”
“I hope so,” she retorted.
“I look forward to unwrapping the layers.”
It seemed she possessed a wanton imagination. Who would have guessed? While she knew he couldn’t mean those words in a literal sense, she couldn’t help picturing him removing her clothes, and…
Elspeth stumbled, and his grip on her waist tightened. She hoped to heaven she wasn’t blushing, but when she met knowing dark eyes, she was sure she was.
“Watch your step,” he murmured.
“Oh, I will,” she said, finding her balance again.
She waited for another mocking response, but instead he led her through a series of dizzying turns that set her heart racing. It was almost worse when he didn’t talk. The silence left her too conscious of that tall, elegant body moving close to hers. He looked marvelous in the kilt, as rugged and untamed as this beautiful land where he belonged.
Because the dance was informal, they weren’t wearing gloves as they would at a society ball. With her hand resting in his, she couldn’t ignore his warmth and strength. The very air conspired against her. Every breath she took was tinged with the tangy essence of Brody. It was a good thing she’d decided to outgrow her love for him, because if she hadn’t, she’d soon go quite daft.
“What are ye thinking about?” he asked softly.
“The scenery,” she said, which was true, if not the whole truth.
A brief huff of amusement escaped him. “That’s a shame. When we dance, I want you to think of me.”
The Laird’s Christmas Kiss: The Lairds Most Likely Book 2 Page 3
