A Lass for Christmas (Tenacious Trents Novella)

by Jane Charles

  It had been one of the longest nights of his life. He’d never slept with a woman before. He had been in bed with plenty of them, but sleeping was never involved. He’d never even spent the whole night with his mistress, when he had one. Maddie certainly was pretty enough with those light green eyes and golden blond hair, even though it was a ratted mess about her head right now. Perhaps he should have seen that it was combed out before she slept. No, they were both too cold from their dip in the lake. Mrs. MacGinnis would help reduce the tangles. She was a marvel at everything else.

  Though it was rather nice to sleep curled around a soft form, his body wanted to do more than sleep and his mind was wondering if the person in his arms would be his wife, making it near impossible to rest. The lack of sleep, unfulfilled desire and worry that he would now have an English wife had left him ill-tempered this morning. But she dispelled all concern for marriage.

  “Yer spirits seem to have improved,” Dougal said before he shoveled a spoon full of porridge into his mouth.

  “I doona have to worry about being married to an English miss. Of course I am in better humor.”

  “Why do think you are free?”

  “She is Trent’s piece of fluff. Once the weather clears I will hand her back over.”

  Dougal set his fork aside. “You are certain she is nothing more than Trent’s mistress?”

  “Of course,” Lachlan laughed. “Who else would she be?”

  “Fiancé? Sister?”

  Lachlan scoffed. “If Trent were betrothed, all the world would know and young ladies everywhere would fall into mourning.”

  “Sister, then?”

  Lachlan stared at his friend and his stomach tightened again. Was it possible?

  “He has a sister called Madeline,” Dougal reminded him.

  “The lass said her name was Maddie.”

  “Which could easily be a nickname,” Dougal insisted.

  “She said she wasna traveling alone.” Lachlan pushed his plate away, appetite gone. “If Trent was her brother she would have said she was with her brother and would not have been vague about her companion.”

  “Do ye really think Trent would take his mistress to visit his brother?”

  “We don’t know that he is visiting the former vicar,” Lachlan argued. Though there would be no other reason for Trent to be in the area. Perhaps he was going to be spending Christmas with his brother and sister-in-law and didn’t wish to be parted from his newest mistress for too long. There was no reason Trent couldn’t stay at the inn. He hadn’t stayed with his brother last time he was here. Trent had probably planned to keep her in a room at the inn and enjoy her talents at night while behaving the gentleman while out in the day and evening. Trent had done so before and there was no reason why he wouldn’t do so now.

  Lachlan shoved away from the table. She couldn’t be his sister otherwise the young woman would have said so. Trent was traveling with his mistress and she had gone for a walk. Perhaps Trent had left her in the carriage while he visited with his brother and sister-in-law. Maddie simply got tired of sitting there and decided to take a walk.

  It was as simple as that. As soon as it was safe enough to travel, Lachlan would deliver the wayward mistress to Jordan and be on his way north.

  “Lord Brachton, Dougal,” Mrs. MacGinnis shouted from above. “I need yer help.”

  Lachlan rushed from the room and pounded up the stairs. What had happened to the lass now?

  The door to his chamber was open and Mrs. MacGinnis stood over Maddie who was on the floor holding her right ankle. “Damn and blast,” she muttered.

  Her language just confirmed that she was not a miss of society. “What is it?”

  Her head jerked up and a lovely blush spread across her cheeks. He could well understand why Jordan kept this one close. Not only was she a beauty but her voluptuous curves would give any man hours of pleasure. “I hurt my ankle.”

  “Walkin’?” Was the chit prone to mishaps?

  Mrs. MacGinnis blew out a breath. “She hurt it last night, probably when she went through the ice.”

  Lachlan moved Maddie’s hands away from her ankle. It was swollen and discolored with ugly shades of deep purple and brown. “Why did ye try to walk?”

  “I didn’t know it was hurt until I tried to stand,” she snapped back.

  “I was able to help her to the privy, but on the way back, she lost her balance,” Mrs. MacGinnis explained.

  “I got dizzy,” the lass muttered and looked up at him. “I’m not feeling very well.”

  The color left her cheeks and she swayed a bit even though she was sitting on the floor.

  “Get her into bed,” Mrs. MacGinnis ordered.

  Lachlan scooped the lass up in his arms and deposited her back in the middle of the bed before covering her again.

  “I don’t know what is wrong with me,” she muttered with a bit of irritation.

  “Ye have a fever,” Mrs. MacGinnis explained.

  Lachlan placed the back of his hand to Maddie’s forehead and cheek. The lass was warmer than she should be, but not hot enough to be a concern yet. This is all he needed. Trent’s mistress ill in his bed.

  “I’ll bring up some more tea and somethin’ to eat. Dougal will carry the tray for me.”

  Lachlan hadn’t even known his friend was standing there until Mrs. MacGinnis said his name.

  The two of them left and Lachlan settled at the side of the bed. “I shouldna be surprised ye’re sick after the dunkin’ in the lake.”

  She tried to smile, but it was weak.

  Now that he knew he wouldn’t be forced to marry her, he didn’t much mind being in this chamber with her. Yet, what Dougal said at the breakfast table still bothered him, and he should learn for certain who she was to Jordan.

  “What shall I call you?” If she said Lady Madeline he would know for certain.

  “Maddie is fine.”

  “Not lady or miss? The clothing you were wearing seemed to indicate you were of quality.”

  “I am not a lady, no matter what I happen to be wearing.” Tears formed in her eyes, but Maddie turned away from him and blinked a few times. They were gone in moments.

  That proved she was Jordan’s mistress. If she were his sister she would have corrected him and insisted on being called Lady Madeline. Jordan was wealthy enough that he could dress his mistresses in the finest clothing, though what was the purpose since a mistress was not meant to be dressed? On the other hand, one couldn’t very well take a naked lady out in public. But, what was Jordan doing taking her to his brother’s house, the former vicar? That was beyond the pale for even Trent.

  Unless they were betrothed.

  No, Maddie would have mentioned the word fiancé if that were the case. Anyone who managed to snare Trent would shout if for the world to hear, and would have certainly announced it to him.

  She wasn’t really lying when she admitted to not being a lady. She may have believed she was once, but that was before she learned the truth. She was a bastard and no amount of layered silk and satins could change that fact.

  “And who are you?” As she spent the night in his bed, and if she recalled correctly, his arms. She should probably know his name.

  “Lachlan Grant, the Marquess of Brachton.” He smiled down at her. It was warm and humor sparkled in his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t get along well in the mornings and simply needed a hearty meal.

  “Ye can call me Lachlan. Circumstances have pushed us beyond the bounds of propriety.”

  Jordan had mentioned him. Her brother planned on visiting Brachton if he was still in the area, but assumed Brachton had gone home to Scotland for Christmas. Thank goodness he hadn’t or she would have drowned in that lake.

  A shiver ran down her spine at how close she had come to death. Though perhaps her death would solve a number of problems, one being the shame it brought to the family, but she had no intention of giving up that easily.

  He brushed her hair from her check and tuck
ed it behind her ear. His touch was gentle and soothing.

  “Jordan mentioned you, but refused to introduce us if you were still in the area.”

  Brachton’s grin was full of self-assurance and cockiness, much like Jordan when he was confident where a female was concerned.

  Why hadn’t Jordan wanted her to meet him? She was certain it was because she was born on the wrong side of the blanket. He knew any titled man would not wish to marry a bastard, nor be introduced to one. She simply wasn’t good enough for his friend.

  Had her family been plotting on ways to keep her from having another Season without letting her know the reason why? Surely, they knew as well as she that to dupe society into believing she was a lady would bring scandal to their doorstep, and there wasn’t anything Clayton despised more than the family riddled in scandal.

  “I hope Jordan isn’t angry we met.” Really what did she know about the man and what harm would a simple introduction have done. It wasn’t like Jordan could have said ‘Brachton, this is my sister, Madeline, the bastard of the family’.

  Brachton chuckled. “I am fairly certain he will not be pleased, but there is no reason to worry yourself. I can deal with Trent.”

  Was there something about her brother that Madeline didn’t know? She understood why Jordan hadn’t wanted to introduce her to anyone of quality, but why was Brachton so certain as well? He knew nothing about her, unless Jordan had told him. No, Brachton didn’t know that Jordan was her brother, so what did Brachton know about her brother that she did not.

  “Here is some hot tea and porridge for you, Miss,” Mrs. MacGinnis announced as she entered the room followed by Dougal carrying a tray.

  “Thank you.”

  “We’ll just leave it here on the table and Lachlan can see that ye are served.”

  The man opened his mouth in what Madeline assumed was a protest but the two disappeared before he could say anything.

  Brachton grumbled under his breath and walked to the table. “Would ye prefer tea or porridge first?”

  She was parched. “A sip of tea, please.”

  He poured the hot liquid into a dainty cup, much too small for his large hands, and brought it to her.

  Madeline accepted it and drank deeply. The warmth helped sooth her dry and scratchy throat.”

  He took the cup away and returned with a napkin, which he stuffed into the top of her nightshirt and then handed her the bowl and spoon. Madeline took one bite and moaned. This was the best porridge she had ever eaten. Of course, it could be because she was starving. She hadn’t eaten since the midday meal yesterday.

  She took three more bites. The taste had nothing to do with hunger. “This is the most delicious porridge I have ever eaten.”

  Brachton smiled. “Mrs. MacGinnis is the best cook in all of Scotland.”

  “England,” Madeline corrected.

  He frowned.

  “You are in England at the moment,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “The best cook in Scotland and England.”

  Madeline continued eating until she was scraping the bowl with her spoon. A lady should eat more delicately and never try to get every last drop but she didn’t care. Besides, she wasn’t a lady.

  Brachton chuckled as he took the bowl from her and set it back on the table. “It is nice to see an English woman eat as if she had an appetite.”

  A blush heated her cheeks. Or perhaps it was the fever, but she knew what he meant. Ladies were to take small portions and eat little so as to maintain their figure. Madeline hated that rule and never followed it in the privacy of her own home with only family present.

  “The snow has stopped,” Brachton announced from the window.

  This meant that soon Lachlan would be returning her to Jordan and then be on his way north to find a bride. Irritation welled up within her.

  “What is wrong with marrying a proper English woman? You are an English lord, after all.” She had to ask because it rankled her. Yet he was Scottish as well, and she would have known that without seeing him wearing his plaid but by the rich brogue in his speech. His voice warmed her like brandy on a cold night. Not that she had ever drunk much brandy, but on a few occasions she had snuck some from her brother’s stores. Clayton never had noticed and if he had, probably blamed it on Jordan since she only did so when her brother visited. It was Jordan who had poured her that first glass after mother and father had gone to bed one night when she was home on holiday.

  Of the three brothers she was closest to Jordan. He was the one who visited her most during those years she was off to school. He felt partly to blame for her being sent to school, but glad she didn’t have to endure Father any more than necessary. Clayton was too busy learning to be the next earl, Matthew was at school and then the seminary, John had disappeared, and Madeline was only allowed to see Mother when she was home.

  Lachlan took a long time in answering. After he placed the bowl on the table, he stirred the fire and then refilled her cup. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her or didn’t wish to answer the question. He brought the tea back to her.

  “How do you know my feelings on marrying?” He handed her the cup.

  “I was awake and heard you speaking with your friend, Dougal.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “I apologize. I should have let you know I was awake, but I was trying to determine where I was. I was a bit befuddled when I woke.”

  “In my bed,” he reminded her. “Do you intend to try and illicit a proposal out of me now?”

  Heat stole into her cheeks. “Heavens, no! I doubt I will ever marry and certainly not a titled man.”

  His shoulders seemed to relax. “Even though I’ve an English title, I am a Scot and my bride will be too.”

  So he wasn’t really against English ladies as a rule, but someone who shared a familiar heritage. She couldn’t fault him in that.

  Madeline sipped the warm tea. It was soothing to her throat and she could enjoy it more now that she had eaten. The fire brought a good deal of warmth to the room and her eyes grew heavy. Why was she so tired? Hadn’t she slept all night? It could be the fever. Perhaps it would be gone when she woke again.

  Madeline sensed Brachton’s presence by her bed and she opened her heavy lids.

  “Sleep well, Maddie.” He took the cup from her hands, bent and kissed her forehead. Madeline let her eyes drift shut. What would it be like to have a man such as Brachton as her husband? It was too bad a man such as he wasn’t meant for a girl like her.

  Lachlan smiled as he settled back in the chair before the fire and watched her sleep. Once the lass was better, he had every intention of seducing her. He had suffered a moment of panic when she asked about marriage. Had he assumed incorrectly that she was Trent’s mistress? Once she admitted that she wouldn’t be marrying anyone, he was able to relax again.

  Of course Trent hadn’t wanted to introduce them, Lachlan chuckled. Trent feared that Maddie would prefer him to Jordan.

  It had happened before, more often than not. Well, Trent stealing his mistress than the other way around, but it wasn’t an unusual turn of events, and they had often wagered on who would win in the end. Lachlan intended to win this time. The winters could be harsh in Scotland and having a lass like Maddie to warm his bed would be far from unpleasant. He learned that well enough last night. How much more pleasant would it be when they actually were intimate?

  There were a number of small cottages he could set her up in and visit as often as he liked, until he married at least.

  Jordan may mind at first, but he would find another ladylove quickly enough. It had never been a problem for either of them when the need arose. Though he didn’t relish having to face Jordan and tell him what he planned to do and with any luck, he and Maddie would be gone before Jordan learned where she was and who she was with. He would send his friend a note once they were halfway to Scotland so Trent wouldn’t worry that she was buried in a snow drift somewhere. But, chances were that Trent would show up
before they were gone, so Lachlan needed to do everything in his power to win her over before that time.

  Normally, he waited to get to know a woman’s character before deciding on if he wished her for a mistress or not. If a man was going to make the investment, he wanted to make damned sure she wasn’t a shrew and knew how to pleasure him. The fact that Jordan was traveling with the wench answered those two questions though she still needed a bit of refinement. Even mistresses didn’t say things like damn and blast or eat as if she hadn’t been served a meal in days. But, those matters were minor in comparison to the beauty she was, and no doubt the pleasure of having her would be well worth the cost of keeping her.

  Not that he would lose Jordan as a friend. They were much too refined to let a piece of fluff come between them.

  Maddie coughed and rolled over on her side. He hoped she didn’t take seriously ill. If she did, it would be Jordan’s fault for leaving her to fend for herself.

  She coughed again and this time enough to wake her. Maddie sat up, a sleepy look in her eyes, tangled hair falling about her shoulders and looked about the room. She had the appearance of a lass well-tumbled and he hardened at the sight. If she weren’t ill, he would toss off his plaid and crawl in bed with her now.

  Lachlan rose from his seat and padded across the room. “Can I get ye something, lass?”

  “Something to drink, please.”

  He poured her another cup of tea, though it wasn’t as warm as it had been earlier and settled beside her on the bed.

  She sipped then leaned back and closed her eyes, cradling the cup in her lap.

  Lachlan brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. She wasn’t nearly as warm as she had been earlier. This small cough could just be a minor condition from falling in the lake. He would imagine she must have swallowed some water at one point.

  “How are ye feeling?”