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

Humiliation prompted another prickling blush. “I suppose everyone in the family has guessed that I was mad about him,” she said in a sour tone.

“Aye, we did. That’s why we’re flabbergasted that you turned down his proposal.”

She scrambled to her feet, shoving aside the Maria Edgeworth she hadn’t been reading. “He doesn’t want me.”

Hamish’s eyebrows rose, so he looked like a skeptical Viking. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“He didn’t mean anything more than a bit of nonsense at Christmastime. It would be cruel to make him pay for a small indiscretion with a lifetime of unhappiness. Until I changed my hair and my clothes, he didn’t know I existed.”

Hamish frowned, as he winnowed through what she’d said. “That’s not true.”

Elspeth’s laugh was unamused. “Don’t try and butter me up now, Hamish. You never have before.”

“I could swear…” He crossed to stand before the blazing fire. “He asked my permission to court you.”

Shock flooded her, and she subsided onto the window seat again as her dratted knees collapsed beneath her. Brody had told her that he was trying to woo her, but she hadn’t believed him. Had she got everything wrong? “C-court me?”

Hamish glanced up and spoke with certainty. “Yes, he’d decided that he wanted to marry you before all that brouhaha last night.”

She still had difficulty crediting that he’d considered her as a wife. Not to mention that courting wasn’t an activity she associated with rakish Brody Girvan. It seemed too staid for such a Lothario. “What did you tell him?”

“That he’s not good enough for you.” His expression hardened. “It’s not for me to tell tales out of school—”

Despite her confusion, a scornful laugh escaped Elspeth. “You tell tales out of school all the time. How else do you think I know what a roué Brody is?”

Her brother looked uncomfortable. “Diarmid might have—”

“Diarmid’s as silent as the grave when it comes to gossip, and you know it.”

“Aye, he is.” As usual when he lost the argument, Hamish shifted his ground. “It’s a good thing you know about Brody. I won’t have my sister marrying a libertine.”

“Did you refuse him permission to approach me?”

It was Hamish’s turn to express contemptuous amusement. “I told him I had bugger-all influence over you and that you’d make up your own mind. People who don’t know you mistake your quietness for malleability, whereas you’re as stubborn as a mule when you set your mind on something.” His dark gold brows drew together again, as he considered the situation. “So I don’t understand why you won’t marry Brody. You decided you wanted him years ago, and you’ve never wavered. The fellow proposes, against all the odds, and you take some imp into your mind and say no. I’ll never understand the female of the species. Give me a constellation any day.”

Elspeth still reeled to learn that Brody had asked Hamish for her hand. Were all those passionate kisses meant to be the prelude to a proposal, and not just a way to pass the time when he was bored? “Why didn’t you say something about this last night?”

Hamish’s rocklike jaw tensed. “I thought the bastard was trying to force the issue by compromising you.”

“We wouldn’t have gone so far,” she said, mortifyingly aware that she wasn’t sure about that at all.

Hamish didn’t look too convinced either. “Brody’s got a way with the ladies. You haven’t seen how he works when he’s got seduction in mind. He’s unstoppable.”

She didn’t want to think about that—although at least he’d never wanted to marry any of his previous inamoratas. While it seemed that he just might want to marry her. “I thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but damn it, you’re my sister. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Thank you.” With every minute, her grudge against her brother became harder to maintain. She could guess what that declaration of allegiance cost him. While Hamish wasn’t demonstrative, Elspeth knew he loved his family, including her. “Brody’s not a bad man. I think he’s just a bit wild. And his father’s death threw him out of step.”

Hamish regarded her with dawning wonder. “Damn me, you’re still in love with him.”

Her blush had faded. Now it flared anew. “I’ve outgrown my childish hero worship.”

“Yes, you have,” he said, but spoiled it by going on. “Now you’re really in love. Until death do you part. Forever and ever. Amen.”

The urge to deny her brother’s statement welled, but jammed unspoken behind her teeth. She turned away to hide her terrible secret, although now it was no secret to Hamish.

“Of course I am,” she mumbled, twining her trembling hands together in her lap.