The Highlander's Christmas Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  And why the hell hadn’t anyone told him she would be here?

  “Oh, ah, Mr. Kendrick,” Donella stammered, rising quickly to her feet. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Her cheeks were now glowing, and she looked more flustered than he’d ever seen her.

  Perhaps she’s thinking of the kiss she gave you when she said good-bye.

  He’d thought quite a lot about that sweet kiss.

  Joseph also came to his feet. “Papa is very quiet for a big man. Grandda said it’s because he was . . .” He frowned, searching for a word, then nodded with satisfaction. “A hellion. Papa had to learn how to be quiet so he didn’t get caught when he was being bad.”

  “Papa had to learn to be quiet when hunting in Canada,” Logan said dryly, “so as to avoid being eaten by a bear.”

  Joseph wrinkled his brow. “That’s not what Grandda said.”

  By now, Donella was pressing a finger to her lips, obviously holding in laughter.

  “And I’ll be having a little chat with Grandda about that.”

  In a blink, his son adopted the anxious look that never failed to send Logan’s heart plummeting to the soles of his boots.

  “Papa, please don’t get mad at Grandda. He just likes to tell stories about when you and my uncles were little.”

  Logan hated that his son no longer trusted him to do the right thing.

  “Och, laddie,” he said, mustering a smile. “Your grandda is more likely to get mad at me for scolding him. He’ll no doubt threaten me with a good paddling.”

  Joseph snickered. “You’re much too big for a paddling.”

  “That would not stop Angus from trying.” Logan moved to greet Donella. “Now, I see we have a visitor.”

  The lass gave him a graceful curtsy and a polite smile. After her initial flustered response, she’d adopted the self-contained persona she often wore when she was feeling most unsure of herself.

  “Yes,” Joseph said. “Aunt Vicky said Donella might come for a visit, and here she is. She’s come for Christmas.”

  Logan raised a brow. “Has she now? That’s a grand surprise.”

  “I take it you were not aware I’d be coming to stay,” she said with a slight wince.

  “No, but I rarely know what’s going on around here. Just ask my son.”

  Joseph rolled his eyes again. “That’s because you’re always at work, Papa.”

  Logan rubbed his chin. “Hmm. I’ll have to remedy that, but I’m certain that your aunt Vicky did not tell me about Miss Haddon’s impending visit.”

  “I’d planned on staying at Breadie Manor, but Alasdair and Eden aren’t yet ready to come to town. Eden wrote to Victoria and asked if I might stay here until they do.” Her smile was apologetic. “I do hope I’m not putting anyone out.”

  “Lass, of course not. You’re most welcome, and I’m sure Victoria is happy to have another woman in the house.”

  Her smile became more genuine. “I did get that impression.”

  “The Kendrick men can be a wee bit overwhelming. It’s a wonder we don’t burn the house down on a regular basis.”

  Joseph shook his head. “Not me. Aunt Vicky said I’m the good Kendrick.”

  Logan ruffled his son’s hair. “That you are.”

  When Joseph carefully smoothed his hair back into place, Logan had to repress a sigh. Where was the fun-loving tyke who would throw himself into his father’s arms, shrieking with laughter whenever Logan hung him upside down or tossed him into the air? He didn’t know how to reach that boy anymore and feared he was gone forever.

  He caught Donella studying them, as if she’d glimpsed the tension.

  “So, Miss Haddon,” he said, gesturing her to resume her seat, “what brings you to Glasgow?”

  She settled gracefully onto the settee. Joseph plopped down next to her, appearing comfortable in her presence. Logan couldn’t blame him. Some might think Donella haughty, but during their time together, he’d seen through to the heart of her. She was truly a bonny lass, both brave and kind.

  “Donella’s come to Glasgow to have a Christmas party,” Joseph said with excitement. “One with presents, and treats, and everything.”

  “Well, that’s splendid,” replied Logan as he propped a shoulder against the mantelpiece. “But don’t you think you’d best call her Miss Haddon? You just met her, son.”

  When Joseph ducked his head, Logan wanted to kick himself. He should have waited until they were alone to correct the boy’s manners. As usual, he’d made a cock-up of the simplest parental task.

  “It’s my fault,” Donella quickly said. “I asked him to call me that.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa,” Joseph said in a small voice.

  “No, I’m sorry, lad,” Logan replied. “If Miss Haddon gave you permission to use her given name, you can certainly do so.”

  His son frowned. “But you call her Miss Haddon, and you met her way before I did.”

  Logan fumbled for a sensible answer. “Well, you see—”

  “Your papa must certainly call me Donella from now on,” she interrupted, patting Joseph’s hand. “After all, your aunt Vicky and my cousin, Alasdair, are close relations. So, it’s like we’re all family.”

  “Then you must call me Logan, of course,” Logan firmly said.

  Her eyelid twitched at his little push for intimacy. She’d been caught in her own trap, but he wouldn’t tease her. After all, she’d done it to make his son feel better.

  “Papa, Donella said I could come to her Christmas party,” Joseph said, returning to the obviously most important subject.

  “And as I mentioned, I hope I get an invitation, too.”

  One corner of her lush mouth tilted up. “I’m sure we can arrange that.”

  “There are going to be presents, Papa.” Joseph gave him an intent look. “Proper presents, the kind you’re supposed to have at Christmas.”

  Ah. So that’s what the wee lad had been fashed about. “There will be proper presents here too, Joseph. Your aunt Vicky will see to that.”

  His son pulled a face. “Grandda said that proper Scots only celebrate Hogmanay.”

  Logan flexed his shoulders against the mantel, getting more comfortable. “We’ll celebrate Hogmanay, but Aunt Vicky is English, so she’s rather big on Christmas. They’ll be plenty of parties, especially if Donella is planning one, too.”

  When he smiled at her, he was surprised to see her cheeks turn pink again. Then he realized her gaze had been stuck on his chest and shoulders, as if she were inspecting them.

  Interesting.

  Apparently, there just might have been something to that good-bye kiss she’d given him. He’d suspected as much.

  “With proper presents,” Joseph said with the dogged emphasis of a child.

  Logan reached down to tap his son’s nose. “With proper presents, I promise.”

  The grin that split Joseph’s face triggered a corresponding burst of happiness in Logan’s heart. He’d have to find time to Christmas shop for his son. Better yet, he’d take Joseph and let the lad pick out his own gifts. If bribery helped to smooth over the awkwardness between them, Logan was more than ready to empty his pockets.

  “Whew, that’s good.” Then the lad’s smile faded. “Meme was always very good at Christmas, especially since Grandpapa loved it so much. He . . .” Joseph lost his voice, swallowing hard.

  “I know how much you miss him,” Logan said quietly. “I do, too.”

  The boy gave an awkward shrug, his gaze dropping to his lap.

  Donella threw Logan a sympathetic glance before tapping Joseph’s knee. “Since Christmas will be here soon, we’d best get to planning our party, don’t you think?”

  He looked up. “Our party? Does that mean you want me to help?”

  “Yes, if your father will allow it. You’ll have to come to Breadie Manor, though.”

  Joseph turned a pleading gaze on Logan.

  “Of course, son. Donella will be glad for your help, I’m thi
nking.”

  The study door banged open, and Angus charged in with his usual lack of grace. “I’ve come to meet the Flower of Clan Graham. I just found out she’s stayin’ for a spell.”

  At least there was one other person who hadn’t known about Donella’s visit. Why it was all such a mystery had yet to be clarified.

  Looking pained because she really hated that name, Donella rose to her feet.

  “Miss Donella Haddon, allow me to present my grandfather, Mr. Angus MacDonald,” Logan said.

  Angus gave her a flourishing bow, his grizzled hair practically dusting the table in front of the settee. “It’s an honor to meet ye, Miss Donella.”

  She bobbed him a curtsy. “Thank you, sir.”

  Joseph tugged on his great-grandfather’s sleeve. “Why did you call her that, Grandda?”

  “Because she’s the prettiest and kindest of lasses and the pride of her branch of the clan, her chief dubbed her the Flower of Clan Graham.”

  Joseph seemed awestruck. “Is that true?” he asked her.

  “It’s true that the chief gave me that nickname. But the rest is not,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

  “Aye, ye were all that, until ye ran off to that convent.” Angus let out a gusty sigh. “And a very bad business that was.”

  Logan jabbed his grandfather in the shoulder. “It’s time for Joseph to change for dinner, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, aye, I’ll attend to that,” Angus said. “Come along, laddie.”

  “You’ll be here for dinner?” Joseph asked Donella as he took his grandfather’s hand.

  She smiled at the boy. “Indeed I will.”

  “The Flower of Clan Graham restored to her rightful place and come to stay with the Kendricks,” Angus said, giving Logan a broad wink. “I hope ye realize how lucky ye are, lad. How lucky we all are to have such a lady with us.”

  Logan didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl at his grandfather’s lack of subtlety.

  Donella looked appalled.

  “Ye have a nice chat, now,” said Angus as he backed out the door with Joseph in tow. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs ye.”

  “Good God,” Logan muttered.

  Donella switched her ire to him. “Is your grandfather suggesting what I think he’s suggesting?”

  He held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

  “Because I won’t have it. We all went through a great deal of trouble to squash any rumors, as you will recall.”

  “My grandfather is always stirring up mischief. Just ignore him.”

  “He’s not the only one I’ll have to ignore.” She sat down on the settee, her back as straight as a poker.

  “What does that mean?”

  She grimaced, as if she’d revealed something inappropriate. “Nothing, and would you please sit down? I’d rather not stare up at you. I’ll get a crick in my neck.”

  Logan bit back a smile. He’d missed her little scolds.

  He took the wing chair across from her, stretching out his legs so his boots were mere inches from her daintily shod feet. She’d abandoned her gruesomely unflattering garb in favor of a moss green, kerseymere gown that skimmed her elegant figure and flattered her vibrant coloring. Her auburn curls, shiny and sleek, were restrained by a gold bandeau. Donella would always be considered a lovely young woman, but now, so stylishly dressed, she was a stunner.

  “From your cryptic comments, I take it your family wasn’t keen on your plan to hike off to Galway.”

  “You’d have thought I’d suggested an expedition to the Amazonian wilderness,” she said, disgusted.

  “Well, Galway’s not exactly the most thrilling spot on earth.”

  “But it’s where I might be able to join a convent again.”

  “So, Lord Riddick thinks a bit of holiday merrymaking in jolly old Glasgow will change your mind? Seems a bit far-fetched.”

  She let out a reluctant laugh. “Not as far-fetched as me planning all the holiday parties for Eden. I haven’t a clue how to go about it.”

  “Yes, party planning doesn’t seem quite in your line.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone, but they won’t listen.”

  “Families generally don’t. But is that it? You help Edie and Alec throw their insanely extravagant holiday parties and then hang about Glasgow for a spell? You’ll be bored out of your skull in no time.”

  “My uncle insisted I give it six months before I make any permanent decisions about my life. Oh, I forgot. I’m supposed to have fun, too,” she finished.

  Logan could think of several ways to show her how to have fun—none of them appropriate.

  “I take it you’re not thrilled with that plan. You’d rather bury yourself away in Galway forthwith.”

  For a moment, she looked ready to take offense. Then she wrinkled her nose. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I want to do. I did rather muck things up the last time, didn’t I?”

  Logan was relieved to hear that admission—a revelation he would keep to himself. “At least you don’t have Sister Bernard breathing down your neck anymore. She sounded worse than Medusa.”

  “And not as cheerful.”

  When Logan started to laugh, she reluctantly smiled. “I told you I wasn’t a very good nun.”

  “You’ll find something else to be good at.”

  “I hope so. For now, I will do my best to plan parties and have fun.”

  “You deserve a little fun, lass, after everything you’ve been through.”

  She shot him a sweet, almost shy glance through her long lashes, and he felt it go straight through to his groin. He had to resist the urge to shift in his chair.

  “I haven’t yet thanked you for taking Joseph under your wing,” he gruffly said. “He’s a grand boy.”

  “He’s a darling, and children really are the best part of Christmas, you know. They make it so lively.”

  “I’d forgotten how much he loved Christmas,” he said ruefully. “I’m an idiot.”

  Donella held her thumb and forefinger an inch or so apart. “Maybe just a wee bit.”

  “Don’t hesitate to be brutal, lass.”

  She grinned. “Sorry. You’re a very busy man, so it’s understandable it might slip your mind. Women usually manage that sort of thing, anyway.”

  “Like his grandmother did. But I do need to spend more time with him.”

  “I’m sure he’d like that.”

  He waggled a hand. “Maybe. The poor lad’s had a hard time since coming here. Glasgow might not be the best place for him.”

  “Because he’s a Catholic?”

  “Told you that, did he?”

  “He did.”

  “It’s also because he’s of . . . mixed heritage.”

  Her brow knit in confusion. “Because his grandparents are French speakers?”

  He hesitated. “Partly. His grandfather was mostly Acadian, and his grandmother is primarily Mi’kmaq, one of the native tribes of that part of Canada. People are not always accepting, shall we say.”

  “People can be stupidly intolerant, and the Scots are no saintlier than anyone else. Except maybe the Sassenachs,” she added with a glimmer of a smile.

  He let his smile cover a rather staggering sense of relief that she so easily understood his worries. “Angus would certainly agree with you. But Joseph is a sensitive boy, and he’s already suffered a few snubs.”

  She grimaced. “That’s dreadful. I’m guessing, however, that you don’t exactly turn the other cheek.”

  “I do try to refrain from tossing people off bridges, if that’s what you’re asking. But turning the other cheek generally doesn’t work in the real world.”

  “It does if you tell your son that those who snub him are small-minded and best ignored. Better yet, pitied for the fools that they are.”

  “I’ll be sure to try that the next time it happens.”

  She rolled her eyes, the cheeky lass. “Then I suppose the next
best thing is to offer Joseph a distraction, like helping me at Breadie Manor.”

  “He’d obviously be thrilled. But you’re supposed to be having fun, not taking care of lonely little boys.”

  “You do realize I’m not very good at fun. I just got out of a convent.”

  “Then all the more reason to kick up your heels. Wouldn’t you like to go to a few balls, for instance? Dance a bit, flirt a bit, drink a little champagne?”

  “I haven’t danced in years, I don’t like champagne, and I’m positively dreadful at flirting.”

  For the life of him, Logan simply couldn’t resist. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs as he fastened his gaze on her pretty mouth. “Then perhaps I’ll have a go at teaching you,” he said, dropping his voice to a rumbling purr.

  Her emerald eyes went wide. “Ah, teach me what?”

  “To flirt.”

  Donella starched up. “Mr. Kendrick—”

  “Logan.”

  “Mr. Kendrick,” she said more firmly, “I do not—”

  The door to the study opened, cutting her off. Logan sighed and came to his feet. He’d been looking forward to another of her entertaining scolds.

  “Forgive me for missing your arrival, Miss Haddon,” Nick said as he joined them. “I was called away on business.”

  “So you knew she was coming, did you?” Logan sardonically asked.

  Nick ignored him to bow over Donella’s hand.

  She dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you, my lord. It’s a great honor to be staying with your family.”

  “The honor is ours,” Nick replied. “And Logan is, no doubt, especially thrilled to have you visit. He’s extolled your virtues at some length since your little adventure together.”

  That ridiculous comment brought the color flying back to Donella’s cheeks and made Logan want to throttle his brother. It would indeed appear that there was a conspiracy afoot.

  While Donella’s suspicious gaze flickered between the two of them, thankfully she refrained from replying.

  “How long will you be staying?” Nick prompted. “I hope through the holidays, at the very least.”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” She was looking more alarmed by the second.

  Nick gave Logan a gentle smile. “We’ll have to insist on it, won’t we, Logan? You will no doubt wish to further your acquaintance with Miss Haddon.”