The Highlander's Christmas Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “I wouldn’t have done that. Not to a gently bred lass I hoped to marry.”

  Donella lifted an ironic brow. “Really?”

  Logan winced. “It’s different with us, and you know it. And looking back on that time,” he hastily added, “we both had a lucky escape.”

  “Mrs. MacArthur obviously doesn’t feel that way now.”

  “What else did she say?”

  Too late, Donella realized she’d wandered into dangerous territory. “Ah, I sensed that she would still be happy to marry you.”

  “She’d be happy to marry my money,” he said dryly.

  His words hit her hard, but she bit back a sharp reply.

  “Come, lass, what else did she say to upset you?” he quietly asked after a few moments of silence.

  She sighed. Better to get her worst out of the way before she asked about his worst. “She referenced some rather unfortunate rumors circulating about me.”

  “Having to do with the Murrays?”

  She flashed him a startled glance. “You heard?”

  “Graeme overheard some talk about you and . . .”

  “Roddy Murray.”

  “Right. It was vague gossip, for the most part. But Graeme said it was enough to draw certain conclusions, if one had a mind to.”

  It was time to come clean. Logan would hear the details sooner or later, either from Jeannie or from Mungo Murray himself.

  “Mrs. MacArthur had a mind to,” Donella replied. “She said that although you were her first, you would not be my first.”

  Logan spat out a string of curses that were quite shocking in their specificity.

  When he finished, he gathered up both her hands. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry you had to bear such an ugly scene with her. I’ll be taking it up with both Jeannie MacArthur and Mungo Murray, because I’ve had just about enough of this.”

  “No, Logan, you won’t.”

  “Donella, I know you hate conflict, but—”

  “I’d prefer to avoid more scenes and gossip.”

  “Unfortunately, the cat is well out of the bag and must be dealt with. As soon as I drop you off, I’m going to hunt down Mungo Murray and shut him the hell up.”

  She yanked a hand away and slapped it onto his chest. “You will do no such thing.”

  He began to look exasperated. “These rumors will not go away, even after our betrothal is formally announced. In fact, they’re likely to get worse. I won’t have you subjected to insults any longer. You’re my—”

  “But they’re not rumors.”

  Logan frowned. “Well . . . of course they are. I’ve been with you, Donella. I remember our first time.”

  Clearly, she’d done a splendid job of convincing him that she was an inexperienced maiden, and she hadn’t even been trying.

  “Logan, I was not a . . .” She twirled a hand. “You know.”

  He looked mystified. “No, I do not know.”

  “A virgin,” she said through clenched teeth.

  His features relaxed into a smile. “Of course not, daft girl. You’ve been with me.”

  Were all men this dense, or was she supremely unfortunate?

  “I was not a virgin when you . . .” Again, her nerve failed and she twirled her other hand.

  His jaw sagged for a moment before clamping shut. She wondered if he’d be able to pry it open enough to respond.

  “When I came to your bed that first night,” he finally said.

  “Yes.”

  He let go of her other hand.

  “Say something,” she said after several fraught moments of silence.

  His reply was soft and yet terrifying. “I am going to kill Mungo Murray, and then I am going to rip Roddy’s stupid head off and shove it down his neck.”

  “No, you will not.”

  Logan yanked off his beaver hat and threw it into the corner. “The hell I won’t. The bastard took advantage of you. Either that or, he—” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Did he force himself on you?”

  She flattened a hand on his chest. “No. It wasn’t like that, I promise.”

  Logan exhaled long and hard, and then he seemed to gather himself. “How old were you?”

  “I’d just turned seventeen.”

  “So he did take advantage of you, the bloody bastard. I’m sorry, Donella, but I’ll be calling on the Murrays tomorrow and—”

  “I said no.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because it was my bloody idea!”

  Logan jerked back, startled.

  Donella threw her reticule into the corner, where it landed on top of his hat. “That is why you will leave poor Roddy alone. He was the one who was wronged, not me. That silly boy only wished to marry me. He tried to be honorable, and for all his trouble saw his name and his honor dragged through the mud.” She rubbed a hand across her eyes, wiping away angry tears. “So, that’s why Mungo Murray and his men tried to kidnap me. Because we truly had insulted his family’s honor, and he was determined to set it right.”

  “By kidnapping you?” Logan asked in an incredulous voice. “That’s a bit extreme, even if you did insult his bloody honor.”

  “Of course it is. I’m not excusing it, or his attempts to embarrass us by spreading gossip ten years later. I’m simply trying to explain it to you—if you’ll have the courtesy to actually listen to me.”

  She snatched up her reticule and struggled to open it.

  Logan took it from her. “You’ll rip the laces.”

  She wanted to tell him to bugger off—or burst into hysterics. All that emotion had poured out in a raging tide that made her sick with shame. Telling the truth was supposed to make one feel better, but Uncle Riddick had been right. It just felt awful and dangerous.

  She might lose the one thing she wanted, just when she’d finally found it.

  Logan handed over her kerchief. “I’m listening now, so tell me whatever you want.”

  She took a moment to steady herself. “It happened during a clan gathering at Blairgal. Alasdair had been gone for over a year, with no sign of return. Despite that, my father and my uncle had made known our arrangement. That I was . . .”

  “Off the marriage mart?”

  “It didn’t occur to me to object, because I never objected.”

  “It bothered you, though, having no control over the circumstances.”

  Donella looked down at her hands, now clenched into fists. “I’d been abandoned, and everyone knew it.”

  He was quiet for a few moments. “And that’s when Roddy Murray entered the scene.”

  “The Murrays and some of the other local clans attended the gathering. Roddy was very popular with the girls.”

  “Including you.”

  She shot him a glance. He gave her a slight smile and nodded, as if encouraging her to continue.

  “You have to admit he’s very handsome,” she said, feeling defensive.

  “I’ll grant you that, but he doesn’t seem your type.” Logan tapped his head, indicating Roddy’s lack of intellect.

  “He was very impressive in the caber toss,” she stiffly replied.

  Logan smothered a grin with his hand.

  “I wasn’t looking to fall in love, or throw Alasdair over,” she said. “I simply wanted a little . . .”

  “Attention?” he gently finished.

  She nodded, feeling stupid and humiliated.

  “And Roddy was happy to give it to you.”

  “It sounds awful when you put it that way.”

  He grimaced. “I didn’t mean it to.”

  Donella waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just finish, shall I?”

  She described how Roddy had quickly become smitten with her, ignoring the other girls to follow her about like a puppy dog. Because she’d been hurt and embarrassed by Alasdair’s desertion and the resulting gossip, she’d let him.

  “It was the first time in ages that anyone had made me feel special. And it didn’t hurt that all the other girls we
re jealous.” She managed a smile. “That had never happened.”

  It had also led to her downfall. Annoyed that Roddy had singled Donella out, some of the other girls had made her the target of mean-spirited jests. They’d joked that Alasdair would rather run away than marry her, the most boring girl in Scotland. According to them, Roddy simply felt sorry for her.

  So when Roddy found her later, crying her eyes out, he’d sworn up and down to take his vengeance on everyone who’d insulted her. He’d pledged his undying love and claimed he’d do anything to win her hand, including facing down the wrath of Lord Riddick and the entire Haddon clan.

  “He was ready to go to my uncle right then and there,” she said. “Naturally I panicked. So I dragged him off to one of the barns to . . . to calm him down.”

  “That’s one way to describe it,” Logan said.

  “Well, it worked,” she replied, annoyed that he’d gone back to scowling at her.

  “Apparently a little too well.”

  Part of her wanted to whack him with her reticule, but the other part acknowledged the truth of his words. As she’d lain with Roddy in a scratchy pile of hay, she’d been horrified by her actions. She’d betrayed her family, and she’d betrayed Alasdair. More importantly, she’d betrayed herself by using a sweet young man who’d wanted nothing more than to love her.

  “I tried to swear him to secrecy,” she said. “I told him I could never renege on my vows to Alasdair. So, when he insisted on going to my uncle to ask for my hand, I said I would deny the whole thing.”

  “Then he should have kept his bloody mouth shut.” Donella shot him a startled look. “He was only trying to do the right thing.”

  Logan scoffed. “He wasn’t interested in what you wanted, Donella. He was only interested in what he wanted.”

  “I . . . I never thought about it that way before.”

  “It’s time you did.”

  She took several moments to do just that. “Thank you,” she finally said.

  “We all do silly things when we’re young, lass. No need to keep punishing yourself.”

  “I did punish myself for a long time,” she confessed. “Especially since it all turned out so horribly.”

  “Mungo went to Riddick and demanded you marry his poor, dishonored son, I take it.”

  “Needless to say, it was quite the kick-up.” She wrinkled her nose. “I did feel quite awful about Roddy.”

  “Don’t. He should have kept his mouth shut. Does anyone in your family know the truth?”

  “Only Uncle Riddick, and he swore me to secrecy. He said it was the only way to prevent a clan feud and preserve the family’s honor.”

  “At your expense,” Logan said in a hard voice.

  “It was my mistake, and it hurt the entire family, especially Alasdair.”

  “Donella, what do you imagine Alec was up to all those years he was away? Do you think he was faithful to his vows to you?”

  “Uh . . .”

  “I’d bet my fortune he was not.”

  She cut him a sideways glance. “Doesn’t it bother you that I gave myself to another man first?”

  When he hesitated, her throat constricted. But then he took her hand and gave her a rueful smile.

  “Perhaps a wee bit.” He shook his head. “And with Roddy Murray, no less.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “I’m hardly a saint, so no apologies are necessary, love. But you should have trusted me enough to tell me all this when I asked you—which I did, several times.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I told you, Uncle Riddick swore me to secrecy. He said it was better for all concerned.”

  “I know how seriously you take vows and such, but your uncle was wrong.” He blew out a deep breath. “I’ll deal with the Murrays, naturally, but I wish you’d told me when you accepted my proposal. I could have managed it better, before the gossip spun out of control.”

  Donella couldn’t help but bristle at his tone. “Gossip spread by your friend, Mrs. MacArthur.”

  “Jeannie is simply repeating what apparently has already been circulating. This is Mungo Murray’s fault. When his ridiculous kidnapping scheme fell apart, he decided to ruin your reputation.” He snorted. “And he’s done a good job of it, too.”

  Donella had to struggle to hold on to her temper. It had been horribly embarrassing to tell him everything in the first place, and now she had to endure a lecture.

  She stared blindly at the flickering carriage lamp, struggling with an unholy mixture of anger and guilt. The worst part was, he was probably right. But that didn’t make it easier to bear.

  “Lass, I promise I’ll take care of it,” Logan said. “I just need to know if there are any other secrets you’ve kept from me.”

  His unfortunate word choice triggered a small explosion in her brain. She twisted in her seat to face him. “Like the fact that you’re negotiating a business arrangement with my uncle that will be facilitated by our marriage?”

  “Who the hell told you that?”

  “Is it true?”

  When he hesitated, her heart plunged through the floor of the carriage.

  She faced forward, avoiding his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.” “It’s not like that,” he tersely bit out.

  “Really? What is it like, then?”

  “I am conducting business negotiations with your uncle, but it’s got nothing to do with you. We started before I even met you.”

  Understanding dawned with an unwelcome light. “So that’s why you agreed to escort me home. You were hoping to curry favor with my uncle. How clever of you.”

  “Donella, you’ve got it all wrong,” he ground out.

  “Apparently I have a habit of doing that. It would certainly seem I was wrong about why you wanted to marry me.”

  “Christ Almighty. I wanted to marry you because you’re a bonny lass, and because Joseph loves you.”

  “How splendid for you. You get a complacent wife, a mother for your son, and a business partnership with my uncle. I wonder, however, what I get out of it.”

  “A family, for one thing, and a rich husband,” he retorted. “And that’s a hell of a lot better than spending the rest of your life with a bunch of pious spinsters in brown robes and silly hats.”

  Donella slowly turned and fixed him with her frostiest glare.

  “Oh, hell.” He rammed a frustrated hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Not another word, sir, or I will throw myself out of this carriage.”

  “Donella—”

  When she reached for the door handle, Logan clamped his mouth shut and silently fumed for the remainder of the ride.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Donella sat behind Alasdair’s desk cradling her glass of whisky. Normally, she wouldn’t touch the stuff, but it was both Hogmanay and the night of her betrothal party. Getting cup-shot seemed almost obligatory, as did hiding out in the library.

  Alec and Edie’s annual party was already a mad crush. Logan was out there somewhere, no doubt snarling at people and causing delicate maidens to swoon from fright. Donella was hiding from him too, still rattled by their dreadful fight three nights ago.

  “You can’t keep sending him away, dearest,” Eden had said this morning after Logan had come to call, and Donella had refused to see him again. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to make a decision about your future.”

  And therein lay the problem. While she loved the dratted man, she had no idea about his true feelings for her. Love seemed too much to hope for. She could live with warmhearted affection if it were genuine on his part.

  She’d written to Uncle Riddick, asking for clarification of his business dealings with Logan. His terse reply had simply offered his congratulations on their betrothal, along with a thinly veiled threat that Logan best honor his commitments to her or face his wrath.

  Sometimes, it all felt like a conspiracy to keep her in the dark.

  Even worse, Logan had not made one attempt t
o scale the wall to her bedroom. That was both depressing and completely ridiculous, since she was supposed to be angry, not longing for secretive trysts.

  “You’re an idiot.” She shot back another mouthful, wincing as it burned down her throat. Then she carefully dried the glass on her sleeve and placed it on Alasdair’s pristine desk blotter.

  “Don’t want to make a mess. You’ve made more than enough to last a lifetime.”

  Was it really expecting too much to hope for a marriage between loving, equal partners? Donella didn’t know if she could bear life with a man whose primary interest in his wife was one of financial calculation.

  Well, there was only one way to find out, she supposed, which was to ask Logan straight out.

  She stood and shook out her skirts, then eyed the remaining whisky in the glass.

  “Can’t hurt,” she muttered before swallowing it in one gulp.

  It went down easier this time. And, yes, she was starting to feel a wee bit tipsy. Given tonight’s impending challenges, she needed the fortification.

  She was crossing to the drinks trolley to replace the glass when the library door opened and Alasdair walked in.

  “I thought I’d find you in here.” He eyed her empty glass.

  “Needed a bit of liquid courage?”

  She shrugged. “It seemed like a sensible response to the situation.”

  “I take it you’re referring to your betrothal announcement. Half of Glasgow’s showed up to hear it, by the way.”

  “Splendid. Alasdair, don’t people have anything better to do?”

  “Apparently not. The whole blasted house is buzzing with gossip, if you must know.”

  “Which is an excellent reason to hide in the library.”

  Alasdair took her hand and led her to one of the leather club chairs in front of his desk. He propped himself against the edge of the desk, arms crossed as he studied her.

  “What?” she asked defensively.

  “Logan isn’t the only person you’ve been avoiding.” His smile took the sting out of the remark.

  She wrinkled her nose in silent admission.

  “Why, lass? We’re good friends, are we not?”

  Donella sighed. “I’m embarrassed.”