Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

  Fergus sounded exactly like Robbie. How Niall wished he could tell Catrina her son bore the good aspects of his father but considering Mrs. Ramsay had said even Catrina hadnae kent The Christmas Rebel’s identity, it wasnae up to him to disclose it now. Robbie had only said to deliver his inheritance, he never said anything about revealing his identity. “’Tis best I get to work.”

  “Of course, forgive me. I did not mean to go on about Fergus.” Catrina fanned her face with her delicate hands as she pivoted and walked away.

  The essence of rose peeled from her worn clothes.

  Bloody hell. The storm outside was nothing like the one he was facing inside this wee house.

  Bending to search through the tools, Niall prayed fixing the finial would clear his thoughts of Catrina and her damning scent. If not, he doubted he’d survive the night. And he couldnae die before talking to Cat in private, before finding a way to breach the subject of Robbie’s inheritance. But the discussion would have to wait until Mrs. Ramsay was asleep, as his brother’s last wish only concerned Cat.

  Chapter 5

  After leaving Niall to fix the finial in the hall, Catrina spent the rest of the day entertaining Little Fergus. Which of course included the usual three hours of playing with a ball, regaling the babe with tales of his mother so he’d know her even though he had never met her, and talking in silly voices while using hand puppets. Well after dark, she finally tiptoed out of the nursery, careful not to make any noise that would wake her sleeping nephew.

  She breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching the downstairs parlor.

  With it being only hours away from Christmas Morning, now was her sole chance to weave the greenery that would decorate the mantle, as superstition dictated she didn’t dare do so any time earlier. And if she’d learned anything from her mother’s strange stories of Dundaire, it was that one never courted the darker side of superstition in this part of Scotland.

  Opening the parlor door and then slipping inside the room, Catrina came to an abrupt halt as she settled her gaze on the arched window to the left of the hearth. She bit her bottom lip.

  At the other end of the parlor stood Niall. He’d removed his waistcoat and even went so far as to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his fine forearms.

  If she’d been attracted first to his firm arse or even the bulge in the front of his breeches, she’d have an easy way to avoid sin, as a proper lady should never focus her stare on such tempting parts of a man’s body. But no. Her scandalous desire started with the less sinful areas of the male form, which meant her salacious mind could do all sorts of illicit wandering and not a single person around her would know. Of course there was also the matter of her previous relationship with Niall, which did not help her matter any. The memories of her time spent with him in London were wicked.

  She silently sighed to herself.

  Niall leaned toward the windowpane; his attention apparently focused on the snow-covered lawns.

  She could not help but stare at him. The man had a build equal to those marble statues housed in museums, the ones that represented the gods of ancient times. Picturing Niall naked, rising from a lake, streams of water flowing over what she knew was a well-toned chest and abdomen, was an easy feat. What was also easy, although horrifying to her supposed chase soul, was thinking of that water-blessed body walking out of her imagined lake and coming straight for her. And not simply to just approach her, but to take her in his strong arms and completely drench her clothing to the point she would have no choice but to remove them all.

  Standing naked with Niall would definitely seal her path to hell. But since she couldn’t take back her sinful thoughts, avoiding full condemnation didn’t seem rational. There was no such thing as half-sin or lesser sin. A sin was a sin. She had learned that much from Moira. It hadn’t mattered that her sister loved her unborn child, she was a woman marked by scandal and that scandal would follow her through life. Even through death.

  The memory of Moira gave Catrina pause.

  Though not because she cared to save her own soul. Her purse was what mattered more. One child in the family was already a stretch on her finances, and should Niall forget his gentlemanly ways, she was certain she’d give in to the man without protest. And she could not afford to raise her own child and Little Fergus.

  But even with that thought running through her head, Catrina couldn’t refrain from ogling her handsome guest. She missed Niall. And forgoing the pleasure of his company, a pleasure she craved so much, was not what she wanted tonight. So much of her life had already been framed out for her, first with caring for Moira and now with raising Fergus. Even that imagined quiet vicar she had hoped to attract would probably no longer offer for her. What harm could come from allowing herself to enjoy Niall’s company for a few hours? It’s not like she was about to sleep with the man. Though they had done enough wicked things in the past, that she knew darn well a bed was not the only venue for sin.

  She continued to stare at Niall, the imposing figure that he was.

  Wind howled outside.

  Niall tilted his head. As he leaned into a stream of moonlight, blond streaks appeared in his brown hair, the bulk of which now sat tied in a neat queue at the nape of his neck.

  Even in silence, the man commanded the room with an air of sophistication combined with raw, male sensuality.

  Cat inched forward, the sudden urge to run to Niall overwhelming her. Thank goodness her level head kept her legs where they stood.

  She fidgeted with the cuff of her shift, the course linen harsh against her fingers.

  Niall suddenly looked her way. “I didnae hear ye standing there.”

  “I just came downstairs now.” She didn’t know what else to say as the truth was not an option. Telling the man she’d been staring at him would only open the door for reckless behavior. And at the moment the slightest encouragement was all she needed to act the tart.

  Niall’s hazel-eyed gaze softened. “I hope ye dunnae mind me being in here, but I wasnae ready to go to bed.”

  Of course she didn’t mind. It’s not like she had anyone else to spend the night with. “Not at all.”

  Niall stepped away from the window. “Mrs. Ramsay went to bed but instructed me to bring the greenery stacked outside the spence, into the parlor.” He glanced at the pile of evergreen in the middle of the floor.

  The man’s help was a Godsend, thought Catrina, as last year she’d left a trail of pine needles across half the house when she lugged the branches herself.

  “Is Fergus asleep?” Niall asked, a genuine look gracing his face.

  The man’s interest warmed her heart. “It took a bit, but yes. He’s not one to go to bed willingly, but once he’s in his crib, he does fall asleep fairly quick.”

  “I suppose at that age, it is easy to tire oneself out.”

  “Oh yes, though I believe Fergus’s main reason for being exhausted is his efforts to tire me out. Most days I want to crawl into a crib before he does.” She laughed.

  As did Niall, making his way toward the pile of greenery.

  He had the most amazing mouth, Cat thought. One that bore lips made for kissing. Lips that made her crave their burn on her skin. And she remembered that burn vividly, and all the places it had left its mark on her body—from her neck, to her breasts, to her thighs... even on that wicked place between them.

  A shot of heat laced through her veins.

  She gently squeezed her legs together, pressure mounting in her nub. Her gaze flew to Niall’s fingers. Large and long, they were as wicked as were his lips, the memories of what they had done to her rushing to the forefront of her mind as if there hadn’t been a day gone by since they’d last touched. Those fingers were the perfect complement to Niall’s searing lips. They’d stroked her in places that were private and aching. Places that craved his touch and submitted to its torment. She did not dare think about the man’s cock, for if she did, she worried she would not be able to refrain from touching herself
at the moment. And what image would that project to Niall?

  Pushing her sinful thoughts away, Catrina crossed the room and then reached for the stack of greenery and plucked several boughs from the pile before lowering herself to the floor. “I enjoy this time of year as it makes me feel hopeful, as if there is nothing one cannot accomplish.” Like freeing myself from all inhibition and making abandoned love in front of the hearth.

  Niall gave her a pensive stare. “I feel the same, though I could do without the snow.”

  She doubted snow would be a problem if Niall knew what she was thinking. In fact, he’d probably welcome the cold after they were through acting improper.

  Joining her on the floor, Niall reached for a length of greenery and began helping her untangle the strands of evergreen.

  A flurry of pine danced on the air.

  She loved the smell, made her recall the happy Christmases she’d had a child.

  “Are ye happy here?” Niall asked, now fussing with a branch of evergreen strewn over his muscular thighs.

  It was a strange question for him to ask her. “I am content. Though I am not certain I would say happy.” She paused, fearful of Niall’s reaction. “Listen to me, I’m complaining when I should be very grateful for all that I have.”

  “Dunnae fash yerself, lass. I have done a good deal of complaining myself, lately.”

  She picked at the evergreen needles dusting the front of her breeches. “I think Moira’s death has been the hardest for me. She was my best friend, my world. I miss her dearly since she died.”

  “Och, I ken the feeling. Robbie departed this good earth one year ago, today.”

  She couldn’t even begin to imagine losing a sibling on Christmas Eve. While Moira died not far before the Christmas season, she never associated the holiday with her sister’s death. “I am sorry for your loss, Niall. Robbie always seemed such a jolly man.”

  “He was when around others, but in private he had become verra bitter. And though we were close, his last two years it seemed as if he fought me on everything. Something was troubled the lad during that time and he refused to discuss it with me.”

  “Moira was similar. She took some secrets to the grave, yet she was quite forthcoming about others. Though probably because she did not have a choice with those.”

  “I reckon we all have some secrets.”

  She hadn’t expected the statement, though welcomed it as it gave her the chance to talk about their past. “I left London because I did not have a choice. Not because of anything you did.”

  “I appreciate ye telling me this.” Niall paused but only briefly. “As I mentioned earlier, I didnae visit ye to discuss us when ye left me, because Robbie needed me. He’d fled London. I had no choice but to go after him. Even today I was out because of him. My brother often road through these parts and being that today was the anniversary of his death, I promised him on his deathbed, I would come to these parts of Dundaire.”

  The sadness that filled Niall’s eyes tugged at Cat’s heart. “At least you fulfilled your promise to him.”

  He lowered his head. “In truth, there is one more thing I must still do. I had hoped to have it all settled by tonight, but it didnae work out that way.” Niall picked at the pine branch, his fingers combing through the tangled needles. “Ye are a good mother, Catrina. A verra good mother.”

  Mother? “What do you mean?”

  He raised his head. “To Fergus. Mrs. Ramsay reckons the same.”

  Niall believed Fergus was hers. “I think I need to explain something, Niall. Fergus is not my son. He’s my nephew, Moira’s boy.”

  The look of relief that swarmed Niall’s face was so vivid, it appeared as if it a heavy weight had lifted from his shoulders. He smiled. A huge, beaming grin. “That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time, lass.”

  She was now thoroughly confused. “Surely you did not think…. But that would mean…considering the timing and Fergus’s age, that I…. That I left you because of another man.”

  The heavy burden that showed on Niall’s face suddenly returned. “I didnae mean to imply…. That is to say, I wasnae saying…. Oh, bloody hell, I best keep my mouth shut or I’ll not only put me foot in it but my whole damn leg and more if I continue.”

  She smirked. “I am not insulted, so don’t worry about it. But I do wish you would have said something earlier.”

  “Well, with Mrs. Ramsay saying ye were the best mother Fergus could have, I took her to mean ye were his mother.”

  “At least that is settled.” She laughed. “Imagine me, a mother…” Cat brought her hand to her mouth she was laughing so hard.

  Niall remained silent.

  She composed herself, her nerves suddenly growing hot.

  He looked at her. “Ye would make a fine mother. Ye are verra good with Fergus and I see no difference in the way ye treat him. Ye would make any man proud by giving him an heir.”

  She was not having this conversation. Not with Niall. Not with the man whom she wanted to give an heir and more to.

  Heat swarmed Catrina’s every inch. For a split second she wished she was out in the snow and not cooped up in a room with the tempting Niall. Though if the man was outside with her, she doubted even the worst storm could cool the rage that now brewed within her veins.

  A loud crackle snapped in the hearth’s fire.

  She jumped.

  The evergreen in her lap slipped.

  She reached for the falling branch just as Niall grabbed it.

  Their hands collided.

  Heat scorched Catrina’s skin. She must have the soul of a tart, for she made no effort to withdraw her fingers from under Niall’s hand.

  He leaned in.

  She lowered her gaze to his mouth and parted her lips.

  A trace of sandalwood peeled from Niall’s shirt. Or mayhap it came from a place even deeper, perhaps his skin or his blood. Her mother had often told her and Moira tales of Dundaire where its inhabitants knew their true loves solely by their scent. To the world her own father smelled of pine, the soap he always chose for his bath. But to hear her mother speak of the man, he carried with him the essence of a palace orangery. Perhaps there was truth to the legends of Dundaire.

  Catrina bent her head forward.

  Niall brushed his lips against hers, took her mouth with such urgency, she hadn’t the time to think of propriety.

  His tongued danced with hers.

  Oh, the joys of being wicked! She should never have chided Moira for having fallen for her highwayman. What if they really had experienced a love between them? Not that she was excusing the man for leaving Moira, but maybe in some way, at some time, he really had loved her sister?

  Catrina moaned. She brushed the remaining greenery from her lap and inched closer to Niall. Moving her right hand upward, she skimmed her fingers over the fine cotton of his shirt, the heat of his chest searing her palm.

  She prayed Mrs. Ramsay did not decide to check up on her. The woman would demand nothing less than a valid explanation and at the moment, Catrina could think of nothing that would suffice.

  Niall pulled her closer. With a gentle tug to the pin that kept her hair in place, he undid her bun, the soft length of her hair falling down her back.

  It was all coming back to her. Their heated moments of passion, their sin-riddled escapes in the dark corners of some of the best drawing rooms and ballrooms in London. And while she knew it was wrong to pick up where they’d left off, she did nothing to stop Niall. He would never accept a wife who played highwaywoman. And she needed justice for Fergus. Demanded it, in fact.

  But nothing said they could not have tonight.

  Gliding her hands down Niall’s shirt, Catrina pulled the garment free from his breeches and quickly slipped her fingers underneath the cotton.

  She froze. Allowed herself to feel the warmth of Niall’s bare chest, to savor the taut muscles that rested beneath her palm. If this night had been planned, if this night was shared by them as husb
and and wife, she’d pray it never ended. But the reality was that this moment was a stolen one.

  As if he sensed her sudden apprehension, Niall pulled back, breaking their kiss. “I beg yer forgiveness, Catrina. I had no right.”

  Embarrassment snaked through her blood. She straightened. “The sin is all mine. Perhaps it is best we forget it.” Yes. What they had was in the past and needed to be forgotten now.

  Without another word, Niall returned to sorting out the evergreen branches and then twisting the greenery into one long piece that would eventually fit the mantle.

  She’d proven herself sinful tonight. She was no better than had been Moira, giving in to her base desire. And all this time she’d thought her sister wrong and weak. God save her, for she’d misjudged sweet Moira. Misjudged her indeed.

  Sitting back, Catrina fiddled with the evergreen and tried to forget what she’d just done. Though it was not easy with her lips still burning from Niall’s kiss.

  And to think the man was going to be sleeping in the room right next to her own.

  Heaven help her, but she was not going to get any peace tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Niall waited at least a good hour after Catrina had gone to bed before leaving the parlor and venturing to the nursery. Not that it gave him the miracle he had sought as he’d spent the last fifteen minutes or so tossing and turning, his every thought consumed by the lass who had stolen whatever bits of good sense he had left in his daft head.

  And to think poor Robbie had suffered through all his endless lectures when it was his own bloody soul that needed a talking to. What was he thinking kissing Catrina? The woman didnae say she wanted him back in her life.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, Niall let out a deep breath. Robbie should never have put him in this position of delivering his inheritance to Rose Cottage. Of putting him in Catrina Lennox’s path once again. Or maybe the rebellious lad did it on purpose. Wouldn’t that be a kick. The Christmas Rebel playing The Christmas Saint. He had to wonder if Robbie kent that Catrina was caring for Moira. Even if, as Mrs. Ramsay had said, he hadn’t visited the cottage, there was nothing to say during her time here, that Moira didnae meet Robbie in secret. After all, it was now clear that his brother kent about Fergus. If he hadn’t, he wouldnae have left his inheritance to the bairn. And Niall had to believe it was indeed Fergus who was meant to get Robbie’s money.