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

Marina’s good sense started to shrink the grand tragedy to manageable proportions. “Anyone did walk in.”

“Exactly.”

Elspeth looked away and twined trembling hands together over her heaving stomach. “I didn’t feel sensible when Brody kissed me.”

Marina’s laugh held a note of wry fondness. “We never feel sensible when we’re in love.”

Elspeth made a choked sound and raised shocked eyes to her friend’s face. “I never said I was in love.”

Marina rolled her eyes with such theatricality that at another time, Elspeth would have laughed. “You didn’t have to. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never had a thought for anyone else.”

Elspeth had imagined that she’d finished blushing for the night. Marina’s accusation dashed those hopes. She strove to sound as if the idea was insane. “Oh, I might have harbored a girlish tendre for him, but I’ve grown out of that.”

“Is that right?” Marina asked in carefully neutral tones.

“Of course.” With manufactured casualness, Elspeth imitated her hostess’s characteristic shrug. “I came to realize that he’d never look at me as anything but Hamish’s bookish little sister. You reach a stage where you need to accept there’s no point crying for the moon.”

Marina still studied her with the same concentration she devoted to a complicated drawing. “Yet tonight, the moon came very close to you, bambina.”

It had. Damn Brody. Any closer, and she’d really be ruined instead of just accused of it. “It was just a bit of flirtation.”

“Flirtation can signify a more serious interest. The handsome young laird has spent the last few days following you with his eyes. It’s a pity that you’ve outgrown your interest in him, just as he’s grown into an interest in you.”

“I’m the only unattached female at this party.” Elspeth couldn’t quite contain her bitterness, as she pointed out the unassailable fact.

“Oh, Elspeth,” Marina sighed, with a humiliating mixture of impatience and sympathy.

Elspeth bristled. “It’s true.”

“Yes, it is. But that’s not why he’s enchanted. Don’t you know you’re lovely?”

“Because you fixed up how I look,” she insisted.

Marina continued to study Elspeth with her perceptive artist’s eyes. Eyes that saw too much, including the falsehood of her claims of indifference to the Laird of Invermackie. A prickling flush mottled Elspeth’s cheeks, but she leveled her shoulders and raised her chin, ready to counter any well-meant arguments.

But Marina only released a soft, “Ah.”

“You understand,” Elspeth said in relief.

Marina’s eyes were still kind. “You fear that this new, polished version of Elspeth Douglas has blinded him to what you’re like under the primping.”

Feeling awkward, she sidled from foot to foot. Perhaps she’d have done better to go to bed when everyone else had. This conversation was almost as difficult as the horrible scene that preceded it. “Yes,” she mumbled. “He never looked at me before.”

“I don’t think he was ready to see you until now.”

“I’m still the same unadventurous creature I ever was.”

“Not really.” Marina’s lips twitched. “Per pietà, that girl would never have sneaked away in the middle of a family party to kiss a rake.”

Despite everything, Elspeth gave a choked laug

h. “No, that’s true.”

She resisted pointing out that no self-respecting rake would have been caught dead kissing the frump she’d been, either.

Marina took her hand. “I meant what I said about staying here. I won’t have you coerced into a decision you don’t want to make.”

Elspeth squeezed her fingers. “I appreciate that.” She pulled away. She feared Marina’s kindness. Already tonight, it had threatened to bring her tears to the surface. She was afraid that once she started crying, she’d never stop. “Mamma will get over it. Sooner rather than later, if we’re lucky. She’ll realize there’s no reason for gossip to spread beyond the family and affect her precious political influence. It’s all just a storm in a teacup.”