The Highlander's Christmas Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Because of that nonsense with Roddy Murray?” He shook his head. “It’s ancient history, my dear. Besides, I’d abandoned you, like the stupid, selfish prat that I was.”

  “Your actions were understandable. I don’t blame you anymore.”

  He scrunched up one side of his face in a comical grimace. “Maybe just a wee bit?”

  She reluctantly laughed. “All right, maybe just a bit, but that was still no excuse. I’d made a solemn vow, and I broke it.” She shook her head. “With Roddy Murray. What in God’s name was I thinking?”

  “That he was a good-looking and braw fellow who paid attention to you?”

  “That’s still no excuse.”

  “Donella, you were lonely and hurt. That was my fault, not yours.”

  His gray gaze was so warm with sympathy and understanding that it made her chest hurt. “It was wrong, though. And I’m ashamed to have betrayed your trust. Betrayed my entire family’s trust.”

  Alasdair snorted. “You didn’t betray me, lass. What do you think I was doing all those years I was away from home?”

  “Not living with any great degree of chastity, from what I understand.”

  He blinked. “Who told you?”

  “Logan. He said I shouldn’t feel guilty, because you were certainly not faithful to me.”

  “Bastard,” Alasdair muttered. “But he was right. I was a young man away from home for the first time, and I was not very good at resisting temptation.”

  “I won’t tell Edie,” she said with a wry smile.

  “She already knows, and thankfully doesn’t hold it against me.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “You’ve not wronged me in any way, lass, nor the rest of the family. So if any of that convent business was about atoning for sins against us, you must get that out of your head once and for all.”

  Donella was about to utter an automatic denial before stopping herself. It was time for truth telling, for all of them.

  “I truly did think the convent was the right choice for me,” she said. “I was never very good in the world, you see, and I thought I would be a happier and better person with the sisters.”

  “Still, maybe there was just a bit of atoning for all those imaginary sins?”

  She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

  “Especially after your mother fell ill,” he added.

  Alasdair meant after Mamma had tried to murder him.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “No one blamed you for wanting to get away from that mess. It was difficult and distressing, especially for you and Fergus.”

  “But I ran away, leaving the rest of you to deal with it. I’ve been a coward for much too long, Alasdair. It’s time I stopped running.”

  He let go of her hand and crossed his arms again. “Does that also include running away from Logan?”

  “It’s . . . it’s complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not sure how he feels about me. I’m not exactly the biggest prize on the marriage mart. I’ve no dowry to speak of, nor any inheritance. The only thing that makes me remotely attractive is—” She cut herself off, hating how pathetic she sounded.

  “Is the fact that you’re the beloved niece of wealthy Lord Riddick?”

  “I know I sound utterly hen-hearted,” she said with a sigh.

  “If that’s all Logan Kendrick wanted from you, I would throttle him. But you, my dear, are the Flower of Clan Graham. Of course Logan wants you. He’d be a fool not to.”

  “Alasdair, you know how much I loathe that name.”

  He grinned. “It fits. You’re the prettiest, nicest, smartest girl in all of Scotland. Logan knows that, as does any man with a brain in his head.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Prettier than Eden?”

  “She’s English. It doesn’t count.”

  Donella laughed. “All right, I’ll admit I’m not entirely hopeless, but . . .”

  “But you’re afraid Logan doesn’t want you simply for yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you’d seen him these last few days, you’d realize such is not the case. The man has been roaring about like a deranged fool. I thought he was going to toss me out a window yesterday when I told him—again—that you were unavailable.”

  She rather liked the sound of that but adopted a regretful expression. “How unfortunate.”

  He snorted. “You can’t fool me, lass. Trust me, Logan Kendrick is mad for you. And if you don’t come out and let me announce your betrothal, he’ll likely tear Breadie Manor apart with his bare hands.”

  “We certainly cannot have that.”

  “So, shall we go out and make the poor fellow happy again?”

  Donella’s heart fluttered with a complicated mix of love, longing, and anxiety. She’d never thought to be a wife or mother, much less married to such a potent man like Logan Kendrick. Was she truly up to it?

  “I want to,” she whispered. “I really do.”

  Her cousin took both her hands in a comforting grip.

  “Donella, listen to me. You deserve happiness more than anyone I know. You’ve faced up to every trial with dignity and kindness, and God knows you’ve borne more of them than any young woman should have to. It’s time to stop feeling guilty about your mother, Roddy Murray, me, or any of the rest of us. You deserve to be loved, and you are loved. By your entire family, and by Logan and his family, too.”

  Her cousin’s words were a healing balm to her spirit. For so long she’d shouldered a heavy weight of guilt. It now seemed silly and rather selfish, as if she’d worn a hairshirt to make herself feel better, when she’d simply been running away from life.

  “Thank you, Alasdair. I think you’re the only person who could truly have made me hear that.”

  “Then there’s only one question, isn’t there? Do you have the courage to seize what you deserve?”

  She mustered a smile. “I’m the Flower of Clan Graham, so I’d better, or I’ll have to relinquish the title.”

  Alasdair gave her hands a final pat before coming to his feet. “Thank God, because everyone’s in an uproar. Joseph’s mad at his father, which is making Logan act like an even bigger idiot. That’s put Nick into a stew, so Victoria is fretting. And when Victoria frets, Edie frets.”

  “As do you, along with everyone else.”

  “Everyone except my mother-in-law. She simply gives scolds.”

  “Yes, I’ve been on the receiving end of one,” Donella said as she also rose. “Lady Reese said that I didn’t properly understand the masculine mind. Sadly, she’s not wrong.”

  “If it’s any consolation, she whacked Logan with her fan this evening and told him to stop acting like a Scottish nincompoop.”

  “I rather wish I’d seen that.”

  “Yes, it was vastly entertaining. I had to separate her and Angus. He wasn’t best pleased at the insult to his grandson.”

  Donella laughed. “I suppose I’d best find Logan and get it sorted before any more disasters occur.”

  Alasdair swept her into his arms. “Good lass. And if he gives you any guff, tell him that I’ll rip his heart out.”

  Donella hugged him back. “Thank you, dearest, for everything.”

  “My pleasure. Now, let’s go and stop all hell from breaking loose.”

  She still felt a bit shaky. “Can you give me a minute to compose myself?”

  “Absolutely.” He started toward the door. “But no more whisky. Can’t have you passing out at your own betrothal party.”

  “I promise I’ll be right out.”

  When he was gone, Donella smoothed her skirts, fluffed her curls, and made sure her bandeau was on straight. Then it was time to go tell the man she loved that she did, in fact, love him.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and sent up a silent prayer for courage. Then she said one of thanks—for her family, her friends, and for the chance to start again.

  Leaving the quiet shelter of the library, she lingered for
a moment in the corridor. The sounds of revelry drifted from the front of the manor—talking, laughter, and the sound of music. She smiled because, astonishingly, she wanted to be part of it, especially with Logan.

  Then she heard a quick rush behind her. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with someone she’d never hoped to see again.

  The years had taken their toll on Mungo Murray. He was wizened and hunched, barely coming up to her chin. But anger still burned in his rheumy gaze.

  The two men with him were neither old nor frail. She recognized them from the attempted abduction on the bridge.

  “Well met, lass,” Mungo rasped, pulling a pistol from his greatcoat. “It’s time we had a wee chat.”

  * * *

  “Where the hell is she?” Logan growled as he strode down the corridor. “It’s almost midnight. We need to make the blasted announcement.”

  “How the hell should I know?” Alec retorted. “She said she’d be right out.”

  That had been well over a half hour ago, and still Donella hadn’t appeared. Having reached the end of his patience, Logan had decided to track down his elusive prey once and for all.

  “Perhaps she went upstairs to freshen up,” Edie said, trying to keep pace with them.

  “I sent a footman to check a few minutes ago,” Alec said. “She’s not there.”

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Logan muttered under his breath. He could only hope she wasn’t halfway to some blasted convent by now.

  He’d made the usual cock-up. Donella was justifiably angry with him, and he’d tried not to put pressure on her. That was why he’d left her alone these last three nights, even though he’d been crawling out of his skin. He was beginning to think that had been a capital mistake.

  Three days and three nights without Donella had made him realize how madly in love he was with the lass. He had every intention of telling her just that—if she didn’t murder him first.

  “Perhaps she’s in the nursery. With Joseph spending the night, she might have wanted to visit him,” Edie breathlessly said as she scurried beside them.

  Alasdair slowed his pace. “Now that’s an idea. Would you mind checking?”

  Edie nodded and turned back in the opposite direction.

  “Donella obviously still doesn’t want to talk to me,” Logan said.

  He wanted to throw something, preferably a large and breakable item. On top of everything else, his son wouldn’t speak to him. As far as Joseph was concerned, Logan had ruined everything, because Donella wouldn’t be his mother. He’d tried to reassure the boy that it would be fine, but Joseph hadn’t believed him.

  What else is new?

  They turned into the cross-corridor that led to the library.

  “No, she definitely wanted to talk to you,” Alasdair said. “In fact—”

  He broke off and came to a sudden halt.

  Logan stopped, too. “Now, what?”

  Grim-faced, Alec charged ahead to the library door. He swiped up a shoe from the floor.

  A woman’s shoe, the dainty sort one would wear to a ball.

  “It’s Donella’s,” Alec said.

  Logan shoved past him and threw open the door.

  “Donella—”

  The room was freezing because the bay windows were wide open. A stiff breeze flapped the heavy velvet drapes, and papers from Alec’s desk had scattered onto the floor.

  Logan bent to retrieve a lady’s fan from the carpet. He’d seen it before, in Donella’s hand the night of the Assembly Rooms ball.

  “Goddammit.” Alec strode to the window and leaned halfway out. “I can’t see a bloody thing.”

  Fear spiked through Logan, followed by a shimmering haze of fury that seemed to cloud his brain.

  “Mungo Murray,” he spat out.

  When Alec vaulted out the window, Logan strode to the desk and grabbed the Argand lamp. Then he leaned out the window, holding the lamp high to give Alec some light.

  His friend was crouched below, inspecting a trampled bush. He took the lamp and did a quick sweep of the surrounding area before returning.

  “How many?” Logan asked, taking back the lamp.

  Alec climbed up into the room. “Four, I think. Hard to tell because the ground’s so wet.”

  “How the hell did they get in?”

  “Not this way. The windows lock from the inside.”

  Logan had to resist the urge to slam the lamp down on the desk. “Why didn’t anyone see them?”

  Alec, inspecting the window alcove, glanced impatiently back at him. “Half of Glasgow is here. You could slip the bloody Prince Regent and his court into the house, and no one would notice.”

  “Well, I’ll need to borrow a brace of pistols then I’m off to the Murray house.”

  “I know you Kendricks love to charge off half-cocked, but can we just think this through for a moment?”

  “I have no intention waiting for you to be the great master spy while Donella is in danger.”

  The very thought was killing him.

  “She’s my family, Logan,” Alec replied, “and I love her, too. I promise we’ll get her back, but we need to come up with a plan.”

  Logan sucked in a breath, forcing himself to think rationally. He’d faced many dangers in his life, and Alec was right. To both survive and prevail, one needed a plan.

  “What do you suggest?”

  “It’s highly unlikely they took her to the Murray’s town house in the city. Too obvious.”

  “True, but somebody there might know something.” And he would throttle it out of them, if need be.

  “We’ll get to that. First we need to talk to my servants, in case any of them noticed something off. Then we organize search parties. Ring the bell, would you? I want to speak to the housekeeper.”

  After Logan did that, he rejoined Alec, who’d gone back to inspecting the window alcove.

  “What’s so bloody interesting?”

  “Bad choice of words, I’m afraid.” Alec pointed to a small smear on the frame.

  Logan peered at it, then had to close his eyes for a moment. “Fresh blood.”

  “Not a lot, fortunately.”

  Edie rushed into the room, followed by Nick and Victoria.

  “What’s going on?” Nick asked.

  “Donella’s gone,” Logan grimly replied. “The Murrays took her—through the window, it seems.”

  Victoria pressed a hand to her mouth.

  Edie came up and laid a hand on Logan’s arm. “My dear, I’m afraid no one has seen Joseph for almost an hour. Angus and the nursemaids are searching the house.”

  Logan felt like a massive weight had slammed into the back of his head. He pressed a hand to the window frame as a wave of dizziness swept through him.

  A steadying hand clamped onto his shoulder.

  Logan opened his eyes to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.

  “It’s all right, lad,” Nick said. “He’s likely hiding somewhere about the house, watching the festivities. No need to worry about him just yet.”

  In his gut, Logan knew that wasn’t true. “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose either of them,” he choked out.

  “If Murray has either of them, he has no cause to hurt them.”

  “Och, Donella’s already been hurt,” Logan replied. “There’s blood on the windowsill.”

  “Oh, no!” Victoria exclaimed.

  “Not much,” Alec said. “But there must have been a struggle.”

  “Of course there was,” Edie grimly said. “Donella’s a fighter.”

  That’s exactly what Logan was afraid of. The idea of anything happening to the two people he loved most in the world—

  Nick gave him a hard shake. “Logan, you’re the best man I know in a crisis. We’ll find them, but we need to use our brains.”

  He managed a nod. “Alec wants to talk to the servants, and then we’ll send out search parties along all the major roads into and away from the city. The bastards would need one carriage at least, a
nd probably a few riders. That might attract some notice.”

  “Someone needs to go to the Murray house, just to be sure,” Victoria said.

  “And someone should rustle up the twins and Braden,” Logan added. “If Donella has been injured, we’ll need Braden.”

  Braden was one of Logan’s younger half brothers. He lived in Edinburgh, where he was studying to be a physician, but he’d come home for the Hogmanay party. A brilliant young man, he was already accomplished at his work. If Donella were injured, he would fix her.

  If Joseph was hurt . . .

  Don’t think about it.

  “I’ll find them,” Victoria said, “and check in with Angus, too.” She hurried from the room.

  Alec strode to the bell pull and all but yanked it out of the wall. “Where’s the damn housekeeper?”

  “If you rang before, she probably didn’t hear it,” Edie said. “The service rooms are a madhouse tonight.”

  “Nick, you and Angus go to the Murray house,” Logan said, heading for the door. “Alec and I will talk to the servants and start on the search—”

  He broke off when his grandfather hurried into the room carrying Joseph, bundled up in a cloak. Mrs. Webb, the housekeeper, followed them in.

  “I’ve got him,” Angus said.

  Logan swept Joseph from his grandfather’s hold. The boy’s arms snaked around Logan’s neck, hugging him with a grip that practically choked him.

  He didn’t care. His son was safe and in his arms.

  “Papa, I was afraid,” Joseph said in a quavering voice. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  Logan rocked him, swallowing past the boulder in his throat. “It’s all right, laddie. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He frowned. “You’re shivering, and your hair’s wet.”

  “I fell into a puddle of water.”

  “Aye, and got covered with mud, too,” Angus said.

  Logan carried the boy to the fireplace, hooking a chair with his foot and pulling it close. Nick went down on one knee and shoveled more coals into the grate as Logan sat and cuddled Joseph on his lap. He eased the cloak aside to get a better look at his son.

  Joseph’s face was smudged with dirt, and his hair was clotted with mud. His velvet jacket was missing a few buttons and was soaked in spots. His pants were only a bit damp, but were covered in dirt, as were his shoes and stockings.