His vague foreboding solidified, when she straightened and tugged her hand free. “I haven’t said yes yet.”
Brody frowned at her, not understanding her hesitation. “We must marry.”
She shook her head, and a stubbornness he’d never suspected she possessed settled over her delicate features. “No, we mustn’t.”
“Your reputation—”
“I appreciate your noble sacrifice, Brody.” Her slender throat moved as she swallowed. When she went on, her voice emerged raw but steady. “But I won’t marry you.”
Chapter 13
Elspeth’s stomach contracted into a tiny walnut, as she watched disbelief flood Brody’s face. His proposal jangled in her mind like a tuneless distortion of a thousand immature, extravagant fantasies. His visible shock made it clear that he’d never imagined that she might refuse him.
“What the devil…” When he stepped forward, she backed away on wobbly knees. She couldn’t blame him for looking bewildered, given that a few minutes ago, she’d been half-naked in his arms.
“Elspeth, don’t be a fool.” Mamma marched up to stand beside Marina. “Brody’s trying to save you from a scandal.”
Her mother was always organized, always in control, always in charge. Except for right now. She, like Brody, looked completely at sea. That would have made Elspeth laugh, if the situation had been less dire, and she didn’t feel as if she was about to bring up her dinner.
Elspeth squared her shoulders and told herself crying and whining would do no good. She didn’t underestimate the battle on her hands.
“Why should there be a scandal?” she asked, attempting to play down the night’s events.
“Because I caught you with bloody Brody.” Hamish sounded like he was strangling.
“No, you didn’t,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. As she looked around the circle of people surrounding her, she saw that nobody was on her side.
Then Marina sent her a smile. Relief flooded her, as she realized one person at least wasn’t ready to ring a peal over her head. That silent show of support bolstered her failing courage, so she sounded more confident when she spoke to Hamish. “You barged in when I was talking to Brody and Marina. Hardly cause for gossip, let alone anything more drastic.”
“Don’t give me that rot, Elspeth,” Hamish snapped, glaring at her. His expression said that he wanted to give her a good shaking. “You looked like you’d been…”
Yes, she could imagine what she’d looked like. Her cheeks stung with humiliation, but she made herself raise her chin and stare her brother down.
“Hamish, I’d thank you to speak to your sister with respect.” Brody angled his body between her and her brother. She’d appreciate his protective action, if he wasn’t trying to protect her into an unhappy marriage.
“You’re a great one to talk about respect,” Hamish retorted. “You had your filthy hands all over—”
“A few kisses at Christmas don’t make me a scarlet woman, Hamish,” Elspeth interjected, to break the dangerous tension rising anew between the two friends. “Anyway, we’re all family here. Even if there was a small indiscretion, why should any talk reach beyond Achnasheen?”
Elspeth stifled a pang at her hypocrisy, given how close she’d come to giving herself to Brody. She might tell herself she wouldn’t have let things go that far. But she hadn’t intended to let him touch her bottom or breasts either, and she’d made not a whisper of a protest when he did. His hands conjured magic, and she’d been helpless to resist him.
“Elspeth, I don’t understand. Are you sa
ying you dinnae want to marry me?” Brody asked, and if she didn’t know better, she might wonder if his hurt went deeper than a blow to his pride.
What nonsense. Of course it didn’t.
She sucked in a breath, struggling to ignore the devastation darkening Brody’s chiseled features. “No, I don’t.” The three words stabbed her heart. “Although I know that you’re trying to save my reputation.”
“It’s nae just that, Elspeth.”
She shook her head and even summoned a smile. “You’re very kind to say so.”
“Elspeth, you’re being a foolish, ungrateful, headstrong girl,” her mother said, folding her arms over her bosom and regarding her youngest daughter with a bellicose expression. “Have a thought to your future. If you won’t consider yourself, consider your family. Consider me. I have a role of great influence in this country. How will anyone in politics respect me if I can’t control my own daughter?”
Oh, no, this was getting worse and worse. If her mother got far enough up on her high horse, she would be immovable. Elspeth cursed the recklessness that had created this mess, although even now, some wicked, female part of her couldn’t regret the kisses.
“La povera ragazza.” Marina spoke before Mamma’s harangue could proceed past the point of the unforgivable. “How can Elspeth make a decision, with everyone glaring at her as if she’s committed murder? As she says, a few kisses at Christmas aren’t a mortal sin. There’s no need for all these bitter recriminations. Lady Glen Lyon, I know I’m not family, but why don’t you leave me alone with her for a wee while?”