“Laddie, yer supposed to be wooin’ the lass,” Angus said, “not scarin’ her off.”
Alasdair snorted. “Excellent point.”
Logan scowled at them. “We could do without the bloody audience.”
Donella glared at her cousin. “And I won’t have him forced into marrying me, despite what you lot say.”
“Tell that to Riddick,” Alasdair replied. “I imagine he won’t be too thrilled to hear about any of this.”
“Then don’t tell him.”
“Och,” Angus said. “It’s bound to get back to Lord Riddick, sooner or later.”
“I don’t care about that. What I do care about is Logan being forced into something he doesn’t want to do.”
“He’ll do exactly what’s expected of him,” Alasdair sternly said.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Donella said. “Again.”
When she started to stand, Logan pulled her back down. “Ignore them, love. They’re idiots, and nobody is forcing me to do anything.”
Donella stared into his eyes, trying to quell the anxiety swirling inside. “Are you absolutely sure?”
His blue gaze was now as warm as a summer sky. “Of course. Do you honestly think either of our families could force me to do anything I didn’t want to do?”
“Well . . .”
“I am absolutely sure I want to marry you, Donella. Word of a Kendrick and a Highlander.”
Emotion forced its way up her throat, blocking her words.
Logan pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I can think of nothing I’d rather do more than protect you and care for you,” he added.
Donella managed a wobbly smile. Though she was quite capable of taking care of herself, she did appreciate the sentiment.
“Well, ye canna get a better promise than that, can ye, lass?” Angus hauled himself up and clapped Logan’s shoulder. “Well done, laddie boy. Ye’ve captured the Flower of Clan Graham, when all those other jinglebrains failed.”
“Including me,” Alasdair said with a grin.
“My thanks to both of you for ruining the moment,” Logan dryly said.
“Och, it’s a grand moment, and I’m that happy to share it with ye.”
It was so absurd that Donella had to giggle, mostly from relief. Logan’s assurance that he did truly want to marry her was . . . amazing.
Angus rubbed his hands. “And now we’ll get to the guid part. Ye children can leave the room while the Master of Riddick and I discuss the marriage settlements.”
Donella had to repress another laugh at Alasdair’s alarmed expression. He rarely referred to himself by his Scottish title and likely didn’t relish the idea of negotiating anything with Angus.
“Grandda, I’m several years older than Alec, ye ken,” Logan said. “And you won’t be negotiating anything for me.”
“But—”
“No buts. The only thing we need to decide now is when to announce our betrothal.” Logan glanced at Donella, seeking her opinion.
“I’d like a few days to get used to it,” she said. “Just keep it among family for now, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“We could announce it at the Hogmanay Ball,” Alasdair suggested. “Half of Glasgow always shows up, so we can get it over with all at once. A bit of fussing and then you’re done.”
Donella grimaced at the notion of so much public attention, but her cousin’s suggestion made sense. “Very well.”
Logan gave her an encouraging smile. “It would mean we’d only have to listen to people being idiots for one night, and then we can ignore them.”
Alasdair pushed back from his desk. “Excellent, so let’s go tell the others. We can work out the details later.”
Logan raised a hand. “One more thing, Alec. This situation with the Murray family has to be dealt with. I won’t have Donella fearing for her safety.”
Startled, she exchanged a glance with her cousin.
“Don’t think I didn’t catch that,” Logan said. “It’s time you tell me what’s going on.”
“We’re taking care of it,” Alasdair said.
Logan stood and placed a hand on the desk. “It’s up to me to protect Donella, and I can’t properly do that until I know the reason why the Murrays are acting like such addlepated fools.”
“It’s clan business,” Alasdair said.
“Sorry, but that won’t wash.”
When the two men commenced a hostile staring contest, Donella knew she had to explain at least some of it.
“Logan, it’s because Roddy Murray wished to marry me. Naturally, my uncle refused him. Mungo Murray took that as a great insult, one he has apparently not forgotten.”
Logan looked puzzled. “But you were betrothed to Alec at the time. How could Murray possibly be insulted?”
“Because the Murrays are idiots,” Alasdair said.
“Aye, Mungo and his kin were always a few cards short of a full deck,” Angus added. “Especially poor Roddy.”
To forestall Logan arguing, Donella laid a hand on his arm. “Once our betrothal is announced, the Murrays will have to give it up.”
He shook his head. “I still don’t like it, and it makes no bloody sense.”
It would make perfect sense if he knew all the details, which she fervently hoped he never would. “It’s simply a bit of old history and means nothing.”
“Donella is right,” Alasdair said. “Mungo is a bitter old man who hates my grandfather, but the Murrays have been warned off. Besides, even they wouldn’t be so foolish as to take on both the Arnprior and Riddick families.”
Donella patted Logan’s arm. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”
His mouth twitched. “All right, I’ll give it up for now, but at the first sign of trouble . . .”
“You can have at it,” Alasdair said.
Donella’s stomach curdled at the thought of having to face more trouble from the Murrays, but she did her best to maintain an untroubled expression.
Alasdair stood and came around the desk. “Congratulations, lass.” He pulled Donella to her feet and hugged her. “No one deserves happiness more than you do. Edie and I are thrilled for you.”
She hugged him back, her emotions too jumbled for a coherent reply.
“And best wishes, old man,” he said to Logan. “Make Donella happy, or I’ll flay you alive.”
“Thank you for so graciously welcoming me into the family,” Logan replied.
“Let’s join the others,” Angus said, “and drink a wee toast to the happy couple.”
Logan shot a glance at Donella. “You go ahead. We’ll be along shortly.”
“You two behave yourselves,” Alasdair said as he walked out with Angus. “No repeats of last night.”
Donella sank back into her chair. “Well, that was all very embarrassing.”
“It’s certainly not how I intended to propose.” He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms as he regarded her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“I have to ask what’s truly bothering you, lass.”
The Murrays, for one. Under the slew of her other problems, she’d let that one slip into the background. Yet trouble from Mungo was not just possible but quite likely.
“It’s all just happened so quickly,” she said, which had the benefit of being the truth. “It’s hard to absorb.”
“I wish there was another way, but Alec’s correct. We need to get ahead of the gossip. All the gossip.” He suddenly flashed an extraordinarily wicked grin. “And after what happened between us last night? Lass, I’d haul you off to the nearest blacksmith and marry you right now, if I could.”
Donella had to admit that his rather outrageous suggestion held a great deal of appeal—as did the idea of being intimate with him. Clearly, she was a sad case when it came to Logan Kendrick.
“My family would kill you, I’m afraid.” She wrinkled her nose. “Uncle Riddick will want a big clan wedding with
all the trappings.”
Since she’d never enjoyed being the center of attention, that prospect made her even more nervous. Aside from all the unpleasant bother, there were simply too many chances for things to go wrong.
“Part of me truly does wish we could run out and get it over with right now,” she blurted out. “Before anything else happens.”
He frowned. “What do you think might happen?”
She ducked her head for a moment, wishing she could put her tangled emotions into words. “I . . . oh, nothing. I’m just being silly. I’m sorry.”
He continued his nerve-wracking study of her for another long moment before giving a decisive nod. “Are you hungry?”
“Not after this discussion.”
“Good, because I think you need some fresh air.”
“It’s not exactly balmy out, you know.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Nonsense. It’ll do us both good.”
“But everyone’s waiting for us,” she weakly protested.
“An even better reason to escape, don’t you think?”
When she didn’t even bother to deny his assertion, Logan grinned. “Come along, my bonny lass. Let’s go for a drive.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Donella paced her bedroom, occasionally stopping to strain her ears. Breadie Manor had fallen silent, everyone safely abed.
She should also be sleeping, given the stresses of the day. If one more family member insisted on discussing wedding plans, or trousseaus, or betrothal parties, she might have to resort to an uncharacteristic bout of hysterics.
Then there was Logan. The prospect of his imminent arrival had twisted her nerves into a bundle of knots.
After the maid had helped her change into her nightclothes and banked the fire, Donella had made a show of crawling into bed. As soon as the girl left the room, she’d leapt up, straightened the bed linens and plumped up the pillows, before stashing away the undergarments hanging over the dressing screen.
God forbid Logan Kendrick should see her stays or stockings. After everything she’d gone through these last several weeks, it was a miracle she could still be embarrassed by something as trivial as that.
She stopped in front of the hob grate, shaking her head in disbelief. Here she was, waiting for a man to sneak into her bedroom. She’d argued against it on the way back to Breadie Manor this afternoon, but Logan had been gently persuasive and she’d eventually and all-too-easily given in.
Annoyed ever since at her disgraceful lack of self-discipline, she took the poker and jabbed at the banked coals. They sullenly smoldered, like her.
Replacing the poker, she drew her wrapper around her body, fighting a shiver. If Logan didn’t appear soon, she would lock the door, crawl into bed, and try to forget that the past month had ever existed.
When she heard a noise in the corridor, she tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear against the oak panels.
Nothing.
How in heaven’s name was he going to sneak in? Maybe he’d already tried and been stymied in his attempts. If she had any brains, she should hope that meant he’d given up.
She didn’t.
Resuming her pacing, she vowed to give Logan five more minutes and then mentally send him straight to Hades.
When she passed by the pier glass, she stopped to check her appearance. In her plain lawn nightrail and thick flannel wrapper, she was hardly a temptress. She’d forgone the nightcap, at least, but her short curls could only be described as boyish. Any man in his right mind would find her lacking in feminine enticements, particularly when compared to a woman like Jeannie MacArthur.
But he picked you, didn’t he?
Even more amazing, was that she had picked him. She’d never imagined marriage, and certainly not to a man like Logan. Brawny, arrogant men set her teeth on edge and generally made her nervous.
Logan did make her nervous, but for entirely unexpected reasons. She was madly in love with the blasted man. And she was so eager to be with him that she couldn’t wait even a month for a proper wedding night.
When the Sevres clock on the mahogany chest softly chimed out the late hour, Donella decided to give up.
“And you should be happy he didn’t come,” she muttered to her reflection, “instead of wanting to bash the man over the head for not showing up.”
She blew out the candle on her dressing table and crossed to the bed. But as she started to shed her wrapper, a thumping noise froze her to the spot.
Was it coming from the window?
That was ridiculous. Her room was two stories above the ground floor, over the terrace. Even Logan wouldn’t be able to—
A firm rap told her it was definitely coming from the window.
Donella rushed over and pulled aside the heavy drapery. Logan was standing on the narrow ledge outside her window, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
After a short struggle, she managed to shove up the sash.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
He hunched down and kissed the tip of her nose. “What does it look like, daft girl?”
She grabbed the collar of his coat and began to drag him over the sill. “Are you insane? It’s a two-story climb up to this window.”
He swung down to the floor with his usual grace, extraordinary in a man his size.
Logan pulled her away from the window and shut it. “You’ll catch your death, lass. It’s a wee bit nippy out there.”
After stripping off his leather gloves, he shrugged out of his greatcoat and tossed it on a nearby chair. He’d forgone a tailcoat—apparently not necessary when climbing large buildings—but wore a fine linen shirt and a bottle-green silk and wool vest. His cravat was impeccably tied, his breeches were perfectly tailored, and his boots showed nary a speck of dirt. He looked like he’d been spending the evening by the fireside, instead of scaling walls in the dead of night.
At the end of December, no less.
She jabbed him in the chest. “You are a lunatic. You could have easily fallen and splattered your brains all over the back terrace, leaving me to explain everything to our families.”
Logan captured her face and pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth. Donella had to resist the urge to snuggle closer, because he should not be rewarded for his stupidity.
“Och, no chance of that,” he murmured. “There were plenty of footholds on the way up.”
She managed to insert both hands onto his chest and wriggled some space between them. “You had no way of knowing that until you started climbing. What if there were no footholds, or something came loose?”
“I made a quick check this afternoon before I took Joseph back to Kendrick House.” He flashed a grin. “And it wouldn’t be the first wall I’ve had to climb.”
She pulled out of his loose embrace. “Ah, so you have done this sort of thing before. How typical.”
“I’ve certainly climbed walls before, but never to reach a lady’s bedroom. I can promise you that.”
She eyed him suspiciously.
“Word of a Kendrick, love. You’re my first.” His gaze slowly heated as it tracked over her. “And I’m your first.”
She battled down nerves that threatened to get the best of her. “I’ve certainly never had a man climb through my window before. Not that anyone showed such an inclination,” she added for clarification.
“The idiots didn’t know what they were missing.” His gaze lingered on her breasts, and a smile best described as wolfish curved up his mouth.
Donella rolled her eyes. “Logan, I’m wearing a flannel wrapper. In an altogether hideous print, in case you failed to notice.”
Sadly, she didn’t have another wrapper. She’d toyed with the notion of borrowing one of Eden’s, since she owned several frilly, feminine robes in lovely materials. That, however, would have appeared decidedly suspicious.
“I did fail to notice that. Possibly because you look splendid in eve
rything.”
“Even in those dreadful boy’s clothes?”
“Especially in them. Your sweet little rump looked altogether delectable in breeches. I think I might buy you a pair to wear in the bedroom.”
“And that is an altogether improper thing to say.” Better to scold him than to blush and flutter about like a silly schoolgirl.
He waggled his brows. “Under the circumstances, it’s exactly the right thing to say.”
“You are utterly hopeless.”
“And you are shivering.” He cast a frowning glance at the hob. “Why is the fire banked? You must be freezing.”
“I didn’t want to rouse any suspicions.”
“Donella, you’re not in the convent anymore. You can have the servants pile on as much coal as you like and stay up as late as you like.”
She sighed. “I’m being a ninny, aren’t I?”
“Not at all. Why don’t you hop into bed while I warm the room up?” His smile was so kind and loving that the anxious knot in her belly began to untwist.
As he tended to the fire, she pulled back the bedclothes on the four-poster bed. She started to untie her wrapper but paused. “Do you mind if I keep my wrapper on?”
He shot her a surprised glance over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, you should do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“It’s just that it’s all a bit strange.”
“I know, but we agreed we simply wanted to spend time together. We won’t do anything you don’t wish to do, all right?”
She nodded.
“Good lass. Now, get into bed, while I take care of the fire.”
Donella resisted the temptation to burrow under the covers, instead plumping the pillows so she could sit upright and watch him.
“Is your door locked?” he asked as he stirred the coals.
“No, because I thought you’d be arriving that way. Like a normal person.”
“Nothing normal or mundane about us, love.” Logan finished with the fire and went to lock the door.
“You’ll have to leave before daylight,” Donella warned. “The housemaid will be suspicious if my door is locked. And you’re much too big to hide under the bed.”
He strolled over and propped a brawny shoulder against the bedpost. “A bit nervous, lass?”
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