The Laird’s Christmas Kiss (The Lairds Most Likely 2)

He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Marina arched her eyebrows. “You know exactly what I mean.”

To his regret, he did. Elspeth was as far removed from his usual inamoratas as gold from iron pyrites. “She likes Diarmid,” he said gloomily.

Marina scanned down the line to where Diarmid swung Elspeth. “Si, she does. Cielo, he’s such a handsome devil.”

Ladies had a weakness for the dark, brooding type. It was a pose Brody, too, had adopted with notable success.

The dance’s energetic movements put pink in Elspeth’s cheeks. She didn’t look at all the shy wee wren he’d always thought her. She laughed at something that slimy bugger Diarmid said. She never bloody laughed at anything Brody said to her.

Jealousy stabbed him, more powerful because it was an unfamiliar emotion. “You’re not making me feel any better,” he said sourly.

He mightn’t make Elspeth laugh, but no question, he amused Marina. He wished that counted. “Cheer up. Perhaps she’ll start to notice your good qualities.”

“I’m not sure I have any,” he said before he could stop himself.

Brilliant black eyes shot him a critical glance. “Per pietà, you’ll have to dig some up, if you want to woo that lovely girl. Your wicked Edinburgh ways aren’t going to win you any battles in this fight.”

What was the point of arguing? She was right. As they took their place at the head of the line, he shot her a straight look. “What were ye and Elspeth talking about on the sofa?”

?

??When you couldn’t take your eyes off her?”

He ignored that. “Were ye talking about me?”

Marina rolled her eyes. “No, we weren’t. We were talking about dresses.”

“Oh,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment.

“Chin up, Brody. If you’ve grown up enough to notice Elspeth, you’ve grown up enough to work out how to catch her.”

Before he could object to a remark which annoyed him on so many levels he didn’t know where to start, they changed partners again, and he was back facing Charity.

Chapter 4

By the time Donald started to play a waltz, Elspeth had almost recovered from that astonishing conversation with Brody. Then her heart, barely back to beating at a normal rate, started to race again when the man she refused to love anymore strolled toward her on those long, powerful legs. He had almost reached her, and the breath jammed in her throat, and the room receded down a long tunnel, and…

“May I have this dance, sis?”

She blinked to bring the whirling scene back into focus. Hamish stood in front of her with his hand outstretched. She was nodding and rising from her chair, before the great weight of disappointment could crush her. Because a woman who didn’t love Brody Girvan had no right to feel devastated when she missed the chance to twirl around the room in his arms.

Brody paused a few feet away and invited Prudence to be his partner.

Elspeth made herself smile at Hamish. “Of course.”

Marina’s impromptu ball proved a great success. By the time Charles sat at the piano so Donald could dance with his wife, Elspeth had waltzed with every male in the room except Brody.

At the end of a cotillion, she saw him approaching, arm in arm with Marina, who looked flushed and happy. A pang of something that might have been jealousy—if she still cared for Brody—pricked Elspeth, before she noticed Fergus striding toward his wife. It was plain that all Marina’s rosy joy stemmed from the prospect of dancing with the man she loved.

“I’ve done my duty, mo chridhe,” Fergus said. “Can I dance with my wife now?”

Marina laughed and shot him a flirtatious glance from under her thick black eyelashes. “If you ask nicely, caro.”

“Nothing as poor spirited as that.” Fergus flashed her a smile. “I’m going to sweep you into my arms and out onto the dance floor, whether ye agree or not.”

Lucky Marina, Elspeth couldn’t help thinking. Brody stepped away from his hostess, as she took her husband’s hand. “I can’t wait.”